And now, other movement. A figure appeared in the tower doorway. The figure of a girl. She came slowly from within and stood at the head of the entrance steps. The glow of an interior light outlined her clearly: a slim, small girl, in a robe faintly sky-blue. Flowing hair, pale as spun gold with the light shining on it like a halo. She stood a moment, quietly staring out into the night. We could not see her face clearly. She stood like a statue, gazing. And then, quietly, she turned and I caught a glimpse of her face--saw it clearly for an instant, its features imprinted clearly on my mind. A young girl, nearly matured; a face, it seemed, very queerly, singularly beautiful-- She moved back into the tower room. There was a sudden blur over the scene. Like a puff of dissipating vapor, it was gone. The television screen before us glowed with its uneven illumination. The color-filters whirled and flashed their merging beams. Everything was as it had been a few moments before. The broadcasting studios would not come in. Our apparatus was not working properly. The frequency ranges were indeterminate. It was grounded badly. Or our fundamental calibration was in error. Something wrong. What, we never knew. But we had seen this vision--flung at us, from somewhere. A vision, shining clear in every detail of form and color and movement. The image of things solid and real. Things existing--somewhere. * * * * * That was the first of the visions. The second came that same night, near dawn. We did not dare to touch our instrument. The dials, we found, had been set by me at random with a resulting wave-length which could not bring in any of the known broadcasting studios. We left them so, and did not try to find what might be wrong with the hook-up. The image had come; it might come again, if we left things as they were. We sat, for hours that night, watching the screen. It glowed uneven; many of its cells were dark; others flickered red and green. Nanette at last fell asleep beside us. Alan and I talked together softly so as not to disturb her. We had promised that if anything showed, we would awaken her. We discussed the possibility. But often we were silent. The thing already had laid its spell upon us. This vision, this little glimpse of somewhere. It had come, perhaps, from some far-distant world? Incredible! But I recall that instinctively I thought so. Yet why should I? A tower, and a dim expanse of starlit landscape. And a girl, humanly beautiful. Surely these were things that could exist now on our earth. The atmosphere, we knew as a matter of common everyday science, teems with potential visions and sound. Alan strove to be more rational. "But, Ed, look here--we've caught some distant unknown broadcaster." "But who broadcasts an outdoor scene at night? This is 1945, Alan, not the year 2000."