He got down from the ladder and hurriedly sent for Margaret, and when she came he begged her to look through the telescope and tell him what she saw.

She went inside the screen, ascended the ladder, and looked down.
"It isn't anything," she called out presently.

"It looks like lighter air; it can't be that.

Perhaps there is something the matter with your telescope." Clewe had thought of that, and as soon as she came out he examined the instrument, but the lenses were all right.

There was nothing the matter with the telescope.
That night Roland Clewe spent in the lens-house, almost constantly at the telescope, but nothing did he see but a disk of soft, white light.
"The world can't be hollow!" he said to Margaret the next morning.