"The moon should pass into this planet's shadow very shortly," answered Leo. "A lunar eclipse. The satellite must have one every revolution--almost four times a day, I should say. The sun's light will be cut off, except for the fraction scattered by the atmosphere of this world, and we should be able to tell from the shape of the part illuminated by this mystery source, the direction of the source. We'll wait." The other two nodded. Even Little, who was no astronomer, understood the mechanism of an eclipse. The three settled themselves on the broad steps inside the wall. * * * * * They had not long to wait. It was about three and a quarter hours after sunset, and the first outlying tentacles of the looming Galaxy were just dipping below the western horizon, when Leo marked the first darkening of the eastern limb of the nearly full moon. It was not like the protracted lunar eclipse of Earth; the satellite was moving far more swiftly, and took less than a minute to travel its own diameter. There was a feeble, preliminary reddening as it plunged into the region illuminated only by air-scattered light; then this was gone, as the little body passed on into the umbra of the planet's shadow. It should have disappeared. No possible reflection from the planet it circled could have given it a touch of illumination, for it looked down only on the night side of the world. Yet part of it was still to be seen--a ghostly, dim-lit crescent, a little less than half full, its convex side facing _east_. There was no possible question of the nature of the light source. Leo estimated the distance of the moon above the eastern horizon, and the angular breadth of illuminated surface; there was only a small difference. "It will rise before long," he said. "I'm staying to see. You fellows can go back to sleep if you wish; we've been out over two hours and we'll need some sleep." "We'll stay," said Little. "This gets interesting. Do you think there's another, very bright, moon? Large enough, perhaps, to be habitable?" Leo shook his head. "I don't believe any possible moon could do that," he said. Arthur nodded in silent agreement, and for many minutes the three sat without speaking as the dimly lit crescent dipped lower toward the eastern horizon. Leo had judged roughly that the eclipse should last about forty minutes. It had not ended when Arthur pointed silently to the east. A spur of the mountain range whose principal peaks lay to the northeast had become a little clearer, silhouetted against a suddenly brighter patch of sky. The brilliance grew and spread, paling the stars in that quarter of the heavens as though dawn were breaking; and quite suddenly the source rode clear of the concealing hill and presented itself to view. The undulations of the landscape were abruptly visible, standing out against the long shadows cast by the light of the newcomer, which hung, far brighter than the moon at its best, just above the peaks.