The more he thought about it the more remarkable it seemed. A man of eminence, usefulness and known industry such as Professor Rudge would not be wasting his time at Station X without some very important object. Surely it was not for the purpose of spending a short time each day in conversation with another station. If that had been the only purpose of his visit, why was the engineer-operator brought? If, as it was natural to suppose, the letter had come for the purpose of making some change in the system of wiring, or in some other part of the apparatus, under the Professor's instruction, why was there no sign of it?
If there were a mystery, Hughes had no intention of trying to pry into it. He was anxious to do nothing to obstruct, but he asked himself why he was being kept so completely in the dark, even if he could not assist.
Such were the thoughts that occupied Lieutenant Hughes's mind as he waited for the door to be opened. It is probable that even then the problem would not have occupied a minute of that easy-going young man's thoughts, but for a short conversation that had just taken place with Jones, his assistant at the station. The man told of a sound he had heard in the signal-room the previous night, first a scuffle and then a moan; afterwards voices. He had put his ear to the wall and was prepared to swear they were the voices of the Professor and Macrae.
The Story of a Fight in the Operating Building
You must have been dreaming," said Hughes. What could they be doing there at that time? Had they a light?"
"There was no light from the window, sir; the place was in darkness."
"That's a queer story, Jones. Why did you not go and see about it?"
"Well, sir, I didn't care to go," replied Jones.
"Why not?" queried Lieutenant Hughes.
"I didn't care to interfere when I heard that scuffle in the dark. They do say there was a couple of men murdered here not long ago."
"There were two deaths here, certainly."
"I don't know if it's true, sir, but there's a yarn on the Sagitta that those two men killed each other."
"But we were talking about it last night," said Hughes.
"Well, sir, I didn't care to interfere when I heard that scuffle and groan," said Jones, with hesitation.
"Why?"
"Talking now, sir, in broad daylight, it sounds silly, but last night I remembered reading in tales about murder scenes being acted all over again and"
"That will do, Jones! I gave you credit for more sense."
"I am sure now that it was only the two I said. But I'll find out," said Jones.
"How?" inquired Hughes.
"While off duty I'll go down for a bit of fishing, and I'll ask Macrae to come with me. He seems to have nothing to do about this time. I'll lead round to the subject when I get a chance."
"There must be no cross-questioning!" warned Hughes.
"Oh, no, sir; if he seems unwilling; but I'll be able to see."
With that they separated. Lieutenant Hughes waited some time longer. As the hour approached for the daily exchange of signals, he decided to hint to the Professor that the time asked for had more than expired. Before knocking, he went over to a seat he often occupied, just outside the window, so placed that it commanded a view of the interior, and made the hearing of a signal call certain.
From here, he caught sight of the Professor standing in the middle of the room. He was regarding everything in turn minutely, the signalling apparatus, table, chairs, even the floor, walls and ceiling, as though he had never seen the place before. More remarkable still, he seemed to be even studying himself!
"Hang it all!" grumbled Hughes, "the Government service can't wait for this kind of thing;" and he went round to the door and knocked. Evidently the Professor had reached it at the same moment, for even as he knocked the key turned and the door opened. The Professor stood before him, and for a second it seemed to Hughes that he was being scrutinized in the same inquiring way; but if so, it was only momentarily.
Professor Rudge Under Martian Influence
On his part, Hughes now observed something unfamiliar in the manner of Professor Rudge. He noticed that the pupils of the eyes looking into his own were unusually dilated, and that their quiet, intense regard made him feel curiously uncomfortable. They seemed in some strange way to grasp and hold him, mentally and bodily, and he literally had to force himself to make the simple remark that he feared he must now take possession of the signal-room. He noticed that in replying the Professor seemed to fumble over his words, as a man might who is speaking in a tongue he knows, but has not used for years.
"I am sorry if I have remained in it too long," he said. "Can you tell me where Macrae is?"
"I think he has gone down to the beach with Jones, fishing," said Hughes. "Yes," he added, "there they are," pointing to two figures, half a mile distant, just disappearing over the edge of the cliff.
The professor thanked him, and as he caught his eye for a moment at parting, Hughes was again conscious of a queer sensation; involuntarily he shivered. Whatever else was in that quiet but penetrating look, it conveyed to him the uncomfortable impression that not only were his words heard, but his inmost thoughts read.
Hughes went to the signal-table to give the call, and the Professor moved from the door, allowing his eye to wander over the island, as he slowly walked over its jagged, rocky surface. The intense blueness of the sky above seemed to claim his admiration. He presently increased his pace, and walked off toward the point of the cliff where the two men had disappeared.
Having exchanged signals, and learned that there was nothing further required, Hughes came out of the room, and, taking a book, sat on his accustomed seat so as to be within hearing of the signal call
