“It’s wonderful,” said Sir John. “The illuminating brightness is almost overpowering.” They were unable to take their eyes from the cloud-like condensation of stars—one of the glories of space. “We don’t seem to be getting any nearer to it, although we are going at such a pace,” said Mavis. “My dear,” answered her uncle. “We are too many miles away to see any appreciable lessening of distance between us.” “What is that bright star there,” asked Mavis pointing. “Just a little to this side of the Magellanic Clouds?” “I don’t know. It certainly is wonderfully bright,” answered Sir John. Alan was searching the heavens. “Isn’t that the Constellation of Draco—the Dragon—?” he asked suddenly. “I think it must be. If so, that star, as you call it, which lies between the Greater Magellanic Cloud and Draco must be Jupiter.” “Jupiter?” “Yes. One of Jupiter’s poles lies in the heart of Draco, and the other is close by the Greater Magellanic Clouds.” Mavis puckered her brows. “Jupiter,” she almost whispered, “the Prince of all the Planets?” “Yes.” “We don’t seem to know much about him, do we?” she went on. “No,” said her husband. “The astronomers seem much more interested in Saturn and Mars.” “I’ve often thought,” said Alan, “that such a magnificent orb could not have been created just to have shown our old earth light. Its beauty, its grandeur, its magnitude, suggests to us the noblest forms of life.” “You think it is inhabited?” asked Desmond. “Why not? Surely its beauty and magnitude alone are a convincing proof of the insignificance of our earth. If Terra was inhabited, populated with many fine races of human beings, possessed of glorious scenery, and full of nature’s wonders, surely if such a puny world as ours was peopled, why should a far finer planet be debarred from possessing and nurturing higher forms of animal life?” “It sounds very interesting,” said Mavis laughing, “but I wonder whether it’s true.” “If people are on Mars, or Saturn, or Jupiter, they would hardly be like us,” announced Desmond, grandiloquently. “They would either be like the Mechanical Martians that Wells wrote of, or just animal life of some gelatinous matter as favoured by Wolfius.” “Oh you egotistical, egregious Englishman,” laughed Sir John. “Can you beat him?” said Alan. “No one but a Britisher _could_ have made that remark!” There was a laugh at Desmond’s expense, and then Alan went on, “Personally, I feel convinced that ours was not the only inhabited planet. Even our feeble knowledge of the solar system, individually and in bulk, has proved the wonder of Jupiter, the symmetry and perfection of the system that circles round him, the glory of his own being, and he should rank as the world of worlds. I should be inclined to believe that Jupiter is not only capable of producing the highest forms of life, but that his humanity surpasses in intelligence the most cultured, most brilliant, most learned of our earth’s philosophers.”