CHAPTER II 

 THE JULY SKY 



NINE o'clock ! A perfect mid-July night, warm and 

 still, the air wonderfully transparent. 



Over the north-west horizon, where the sun has set, 

 there are violet-tinted clouds, which contrast prettily 

 with the deep orange glow surrounding them. This 

 sun-glow merges into the softest shade of pink, stretch- 

 ing cuneiformly half-way to the zenith. The orange and 

 pink hues are bordered by a sky of delicate green, 

 deepening overhead into a dark blue. 



Vega glitters as a white point in the cloudless 

 expanse of azure ; Arcturus is in the opposite quarter 

 of the heavens, scintillating in solitude. They alone 

 of the stars are visible at a glance this sweet July 

 evening. 



Night falls imperceptibly and Vega turns to a vivid 

 green. From a neighbouring church the first quarter 

 after nine is sounded. Antares has now flashed out 

 low in the southern sky. Its light is more orange than 

 red, but it will redden with the deepening darkness. 

 Northward, the Pole Star is just discernible. 



Nine-thirty ! The orange and violet and pink have 

 faded from the north-west, and have given place to a 

 pallid glow, in which not a star is visible. The zenithal 

 blue deepens, and shadows and mists begin to creep 

 over the quiet landscape. 



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