“And what proofs would you consider adequate, Maskull?”

As he spoke he gripped Maskull’s arm.  A sharp, chilling pain immediately passed through the latter’s body and at the same moment his brain caught fire.  A light burst in upon him like the rising of the sun.  He asked himself for the first time if this fantastic conversation could by any chance refer to real things.

“Listen, Krag,” he said slowly, while peculiar images and conceptions started to travel in rich disorder through his mind.  “You talk about a certain journey.  Well, if that journey were a possible one, and I were given the chance of making it, I would be willing never to come back.  For twenty-four hours on that Arcturian planet, I would give my life.  That is my attitude toward that journey....  Now prove to me that you’re not talking nonsense.  Produce your credentials.”

Krag stared at him all the time he was speaking, his face gradually resuming its jesting expression.

“Oh, you will get your twenty-four hours, and perhaps longer, but not much longer.  You’re an audacious fellow, Maskull, but this trip will prove a little strenuous, even for you....  And so, like the unbelievers of old, you want a sign from heaven?”

Maskull frowned.  “But the whole thing is ridiculous.  Our brains are overexcited by what took place in there.  Let us go home, and sleep it off.”

Krag detained him with one hand, while groping in his breast pocket with the other.  He presently fished out what resembled a small folding lens.  The diameter of the glass did not exceed two inches.

“First take a peep at Arcturus through this, Maskull.  It may serve as a provisional sign.  It’s the best I can do, unfortunately.  I am not a travelling magician....  Be very careful not to drop it.  It’s somewhat heavy.”

Maskull took the lens in his hand, struggled with it for a minute, and then looked at Krag in amazement.  The little object weighed at least twenty pounds, though it was not much bigger than a crown piece.

“What stuff can this be, Krag?”

“Look through it, my good friend.  That’s what I gave it to you for.”

Maskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming Arcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as the muscles of his arm would permit.  What he saw was this.  The star, which to the naked eye appeared as a single yellow point of light, now became clearly split into two bright but minute suns, the larger of which was still yellow, while its smaller companion was a beautiful blue.  But this was not all.  Apparently circulating around the yellow sun was a comparatively small and hardly distinguishable satellite, which seemed to shine, not by its own, but by reflected light....  Maskull lowered and raised his arm repeatedly.  The same spectacle revealed itself again and again, but he was able to see nothing else.  Then he passed back the lens to Krag, without a word, and stood chewing his underlip.