almost beautiful face, there was still another face I had seen--but
where? The Martian had been alone, yet I was conscious of a face that
was wonderfully beautiful, that seemed the goal for which I was
striving. It led me to greater effort after failure; the face which I
yearned to see and yet strangely dreaded seeing.

It was useless for me to try to understand such thoughts, and to banish
them from my mind was impossible. I was overcome with a sense of
loneliness. Looking at my watch, I found that it was already past the
hour when Mars would be visible through the window on a clear night,
but, alas, the sky showed no signs of clearing; though my instrument
stood ready, it was useless.

But, obeying some irresistible impulse, I decided to turn on the current
and stand by the instrument in case an opening in the clouds should
occur, for even a moment. I therefore turned the switch that controlled
the current, and immediately, to my astonishment, the surface of wires
became as brilliant as on the previous evening under a clear sky.
Turning away for a moment, to allow my eyes to become accustomed to the
brilliancy, I noticed that the sky was still overcast with heavy rain
clouds. My joy at the discovery that the Martian projecting agent was
not arrested by vapor was unbounded, for it meant that I could be in
wave-contact with Mars every night, during the period that the planet
was visible from Earth.

I approached the instrument with the intention of at once testing the
diaphragm, but, to my surprise, my Martian friend was not there to greet
me. The room and its furnishings, however, were depicted as clearly as
before, and I now had an opportunity to note the instruments, the large
volumes of books, and the maps of the heavens which hung on the wall.