"Oh, I see now," said Tom thoughtfully. "It's very clear."

"Yes," said Uncle Richard. "Sir Isaac Newton, who contrived that way, was a clever man. Now then, let's get on with our work."

"I suppose then now we're ready?" said Tom.

"Far from it," replied his uncle; "are you going to hold up a twelve-foot tube to your eye, and direct it to a star? The next thing is of course to mount it upon trunnions, and arrange that it shall turn upon an axis, so that we can sweep in any direction."

The longest tasks come to an end. By the help of the village carpenter, a strong rough stand was connected with the beam formerly used to bear the sails of the mill, the trunnions were fitted to a strong iron ring by the smith, and one evening the great telescope was hung in its place, and in spite of its weight, moved at the slightest touch, its centre of gravity having been so carefully calculated that it swung up and down and revolved with the greatest ease.

"There, Tom," said Uncle Richard; "now I think we can sweep the heavens in every direction, and when once we have tried, the mirrors, so as to set them and the eye-piece exact, we can get to work."

Tom looked at his uncle in dismay.

"Why, you don't mean to say, uncle, that there is more to do after working at it like this?"

"Yes, a great deal. We have to get the gla.s.ses to work with one another to the most perfect correctness. That task may take us for days."

It did, and though Tom finished off every evening worn-out and discouraged, he recommenced in the morning fresh and eager as ever, helping to alter the position of the big speculum, then of the small plane mirror. Then the eye-piece had to be unscrewed and replaced again and again, till at last Uncle Richard declared that he could do no more.

"Then now we may begin?" cried Tom.

"We might," said his uncle, "for the moon will be just right to-night in the first quarter; but judging from appearances, we shall have a cloudy wet evening."

And so it proved, the moon not even showing where she was in hiding behind the clouds.

"I do call it too bad," cried Tom, "now, too, that we are quite ready."

"Patience, lad, patience. A star-gazer must have plenty of that. Do you know that a great astronomer once said that there were only about a hundred really good hours for observation in every year."

"What?" cried Tom. "He meant in a night. I mean a week. No, I don't: how absurd! In a month."

"No, Tom," said his uncle quietly, "in a year. Of course there would be plenty more fair hours, but for really good ones no doubt his calculation was pretty correct. So you will have to wait."

The Vicar called again one day, and hearing from Mrs Fidler that her master was over at the observatory, he came to the yard gate and thumped with his stick.

"What's that?" said Uncle Richard, who was down upon his knees carefully adjusting a lens.

"Tramp, I should think," said Tom, who was steadying the great tube of the telescope.

"Then he must tramp," said Uncle Richard. "I can't be interrupted now.

What numbers of these people do come here!"

"Mrs Fidler says it's because you give so much to them, uncle, and they tell one another."

"Mrs Fidler's an old impostor," said Uncle Richard--"there, I think that is exactly in the axis--she gives more away to them than I do."

"Bread-and-cheese, uncle; but she says you always give money."

"Well, boy, it isn't Mrs Fidler's money. That must be exact."

_Bang, hang, hang_ at the gate, and then--

"Anybody at home?" came faintly.

"Why, it's Mr Maxted, uncle. May I go and speak to him?"

"Yes, you can let go now. Tell him to come up."

Tom left the telescope and went to the shutter, which he threw open, and stepped out into the little gallery.

"Good-morning. Your uncle there?"

"Yes, sir. He says you are to come up."

"Come up?" said the Vicar, laughing. "I don't know. It was bad enough on the ground-floor. I don't want to be shot out of the top. Is it safe?"

"There's nothing to mind now, sir," cried Tom. "The door is open."

"Well, I think I'll risk it this time," said the Vicar, entering the yard, while Tom stepped back into the observatory.

"What, is he pretending to be frightened?" said Uncle Richard, with a grim smile.

"Yes, uncle; he wanted to know if it was safe."

By this time the Vicar's steps were heard upon the lower stairs, and Tom lifted the trap-door, holding it open for their visitor, who, after the usual greetings, sat down to admire the telescope.

"Hah! that begins to look business-like," he said. "We shall be soon having a look I suppose. Finished?"

"Very nearly," said Uncle Richard. "It has been a long job."

"I wanted your advice about one of my difficulties," said the Vicar, puckering up his face.

"Shall I go down and see to the gla.s.s for the new frames, uncle?"

"Oh, no, no, no," cried the Vicar. "I've nothing to say that you need not hear. I've just come from old Mother Warboys' cottage."

"And how is the old witch?"

"Ah, poor, prejudiced old soul, much the same as ever. I'm afraid she is beyond alteration, but her grandson was there."

"Humph! And he's beyond mending too," said Uncle Richard gravely.

"Ah, there's the rub," said the Vicar, crossing his legs, and clasping his hands about the upper knee. "They are both of human flesh, but one is young and green, the other old and dry. I can be satisfied that I am helpless over the old woman, but I'm very uneasy about that boy."

"Halloo! He was not seriously hurt over the explosion?"

"Not a bit."

"But he thinks it was my doing to spite him, uncle, and he says he will serve me out."