had probably not yet arrived, but Clewe could not afford to
disturb his mind with anticipations of disagreeable things which
might happen.

The masses of lenses, batteries, tubes, and coils which
constituted the new instrument had been set up in the
lens-house, and it was with this invention that Clewe had
succeeded in producing that new form of light which would not
only penetrate any material substance, but illuminate and render
transparent everything through which it passed, and which would,
it was hoped, extend itself into the earth to a depth only
limited by the electric power used to generate it.

Margaret was very anxious to be present at the first experiment,
but Clewe was not willing that this should be.

"It is almost certain," he said, "that there will be failures at
first, not caused perhaps by any radical defects in the
apparatus, but by some minor fault in some part of it. This
almost always happens in a new machine, and then there are
uninteresting work and depressing waiting. As soon as I see that
my invention will act as I want it to act, I shall have you in
the lens-house with me. We may not be able to do very much at
first, but when I really begin to do anything I want both of us
to see it done."

There was no flooring in that part of the lens-house where the
machine was set up, for Clewe wished his new light to operate
directly upon the earth. At about eight feet above the ground
was the opening through which the Artesian ray would pass