"That won't be very convenient, will it?" he replied. "You know, I never thought of that at all. All our fixtures will be in just the wrong places. This table, for instance, will be way down below us and upside down at that. No--I mean it will be upside down above us on the ceiling. No--what _do_ I mean?" "I don't know," she retorted. "If we are right side up, it will be upside down, but if we are wrong side up, it will be right side down, for if the up side becomes the down side then the wrong side will be the right side, and the up side and the down side--" "Stop--stop--For heaven's sake, stop!" shrieked Bennie. "You're talking nonsense, anyway. We're going to turn the Ring over before we slow down." It is problematical in what result the complexities of the situation would have involved them had not Bennie suddenly noticed that the spot of sunlight upon the ceiling had shifted slightly to one side. Calling Rhoda's attention to this unexpected phenomenon, they returned to the deadlight, to find that the sun was no longer below them but considerably to one side, and, shielding their eyes with their hands, they were able to observe, where the vast black circle had been beneath the car, a shining crescent, light-bluish white in color and fifteen or twenty times the diameter of the moon. Neither Rhoda nor Bennie could repress a gasp of awe as they saw, for the first time, the enormous silvery arch of the earth pinned, as it were, against the utter blackness of space, with all its seas and continents plotted like a map. "The crescent earth!" she breathed, in wonder. "The crescent earth!" echoed Bennie. "How marvelous--like the new moon! I suppose we should call it 'the _new_ earth.' See, there is the whole Atlantic coast line from Cape Horn to Hudson Bay--Florida and the Gulf of Mexico, Greenland and the Arctic ice-cap! Look at the cloud-banks over the Atlantic Ocean and along the west coast of South America. Quick--get your camera and put in a telephoto lens!" The camera was still hanging by its strap from Rhoda's shoulder, and it took but a moment to exchange the lenses. Then she threw a puzzled glance at her comrade. "How shall I do it? I don't understand," she hesitated. "You will have to take the picture through the deadlight," he answered. "But how long an exposure shall I make?" she inquired. "Oh--a tenth of a second," he suggested, "or a fifth, perhaps." Rhoda was having a hard time to preserve her equilibrium and handle the camera. "Oh dear," she complained; "I can't keep still. This weighing nothing is very awkward--you slip around so." With Bennie's assistance, however, she managed to hold the lens firmly against the deadlight. "Push it down hard and squeeze the bulb," he directed. While Rhoda was engaged in making different exposures, Bennie floated up to the observation-stage to ascertain their direction. To his astonishment, he discovered that Medusa was no longer in the field.