Translated from the Irish (pre-reform orthography). Original pages 9–20.
Seán Ó Maolchata threw himself back in his chair and burst out laughing.
"You're joking," he said.
The other man rose and walked over to the fire. He lit his pipe and took a few puffs before speaking.
"It's no joke," he said, "but the plain truth."
The third man rose — the man who had been sitting beside the fire — and looked him straight in the eyes.
"You are an astronomer," he said to him. "You have far more knowledge of the stars and the planets than any other living man. Are you telling us that this planet exists, and that it is closer to us than any other planet, yet we ourselves cannot see it?"
"That is how it is," said the astronomer.
"Whether it's true or false," said Seán Ó Maolchata, "but it's
(page 10)
something he said under his breath, and the other two didn't hear him. It seemed, however, that the astronomer understood what was on his mind, for he turned to him and spoke.
"I know well that you wouldn't believe me," he said.
"When I see that planet with my own eyes shining in the night sky, I'll believe there's something to it," said Seán.
The astronomer looked at the man for a moment, and something like an effort came over him, but then he threw back his head and laughed again.
"Have a little more patience," he said, "and you'll see it."
There was another man watching where the two of them sat.
"Mícheál Ó Flaithimh," he said, "as I've already told you, you are the finest and most renowned astronomer in the world. If you tell me that such a planet exists, I believe you — with no proof of your story but your word alone. But I ask you this much: if that planet is there, why can it not be seen?"
"That is the question," said Seán Ó Maolchata, and he struck his fist on the arm of his chair. "If it's there, why can it not be seen?"
"It is there," said the astronomer, "and it cannot be seen. I'll tell you why."
(page 11)
He sat back in his chair and took a couple of puffs on his pipe.
"That planet cannot be seen," he said, "because a thick shell of some very unusual substance surrounds it, concealing it. That is why it is hidden from the eyes of humankind, and that is the reason it cannot be seen in the night sky, as the other planets can be seen."
"But if it can't be seen, how do you know it's there?" said Seán.
"That's a long story," said the astronomer, "and it would take me a long time to tell it."
It was in the astronomer's house that the three men were, having just dined together. Seán Ó Maolchata was a famous aviator. He was widely regarded as the most skilled and fearless pilot of his time. "God is good to Seán Ó Maolchata," people would say. And indeed, he had never once come to harm, no matter what danger he faced.
The second man was a professor at the University, named Máirtín Mac Con Mhíde, and he was renowned throughout the world in scientific matters.
The astronomer was reclining in his chair, looking at the two of them with a hint of amusement in his eyes, as they tried to make sense of what he had told them.
(page 12)
"I was anxious to invite the two of you to come here tonight," he said. "Seán Ó Maolchata is the finest aviator in the world, and Máirtín Mac Con Mhíde has a grasp of science beyond any other living man. Because of these qualities in both of you, I have asked you to come to the house tonight."
The other two looked at each other.
"Is he in his right mind?" their eyes asked. But their mouths said not a word.
The astronomer well understood what was on their minds.
"You think I've lost my wits," he said, "but have patience, and I'll show you I am not deceiving you. I won't say another word about it, but will simply tell you the story as it stands.
"Ten years ago, I spent some time in Egypt on holiday. It happened that a group of learned men were at that time excavating caves and tombs in that country. I knew one of them, and he invited me along to see the work they were doing. They had discovered the tomb of one of the ancient kings of Egypt. There were accounts in the newspapers about that tomb at the time, and I expect you both read them."
"I remember them," said Máirtín. "They said
(page 13)
the newspapers said that never before had so many treasures been found in any tomb as were found in that one."
"The newspapers were right," said the astronomer. "A great many artefacts and objects and relics of every kind were found in that tomb. And there were also found within it a great number of scrolls, or papyri, with faded writing that was difficult to read. I had the good fortune to obtain one of those papyri. I came by it with difficulty, but that is another story, and I won't tell you about it tonight."
The other two looked at each other but said not a word.
"I'll show it to you. I know well that Seán Ó Maolchata likes to see everything with his own eyes."
Then he went over to the strongbox that was in the corner of the room and lifted the lid. There was a pile of papers in the strongbox. He took the papers in his hand and uncovered a small iron box beneath them. He lifted the box out of the strongbox and brought it back to his chair. He took a small key from his pocket and opened the box. There was an ancient scroll inside. The other two leaned in closer to see it. He lifted the scroll from the box and spread it out.
"Now you see what's there," he said.
(page 14)
"Devil a bit do I know what's there," said Seán Ó Maolchata. "All I see is a piece of old yellow parchment falling to pieces with age."
"It's a chart or a map," said Máirtín.
"You're right," said the astronomer, "it's a chart or a map. It's a map of the sky. Look at that, Seán — and at that — and at that. Don't you recognise the Plough, and the other stars you know? Every single one of them marked as precisely and accurately as I myself could do."
"Upon my word, you're right," said Seán, his eyes nearly coming out of his head with amazement at it all.
"They are all there, precisely and accurately," said the astronomer again. "But there is something on that chart that astounded me the first time I saw it. There is a planet on it beyond the ones known to us."
"You don't say?" said the aviator, his two eyes fixed on the chart.
"I told myself at first that it was probably a mistake by the person who made the chart, but I came to understand from how precisely everything was marked that he was a skilled, learned scientist — that he was a man who would no more make a mistake than I would, or than Seán would make a mistake at anything to do with his airplane."
(page 15)
"If I were to make a mistake," said Seán, "I'd pay dearly for it," and he smiled.
"It struck me," said the other man, "that the planet must have existed at that time. But if it was there then, why isn't it there now? That was the question. That was the thing that robbed me of my sleep for a long time. I pursued my research, and the result of my reflection on the question was that I became certain the planet was in the sky, in the very place where the ancient Egyptian scientist had marked it — but that for some reason it cannot be seen. I have been working on this problem for ten years. I won't bore you with the minute details of the planets, or the work done on lenses and telescopes. I will not do that, but I will say just this — I have succeeded in making a telescope that gives me a view of this planet that is hidden from human eyes."
"But the ancient Egyptian didn't have such a telescope," said Seán, "and yet it seems he could see it."
"I don't know whether he saw it. But he knew it was there. They knew something we don't understand."
"It's an astonishing story," said Máirtín.
"Come with me now to the house where the telescopes are, and I will show you the planet that no one has ever seen but myself — and perhaps those men of ancient Egypt long ago."
(page 16)
With that, a boy sprang out from behind the screen that was in front of the window.
"Oh, Dad!" he said. "Let me see it too!"
The other two got a start, but the astronomer placed his hand on the boy's head and spoke kindly to him.
"I thought you were in bed long ago, my boy," he said. "Don't you know it's half past ten?"
"I was going to sleep," said the boy, "but the men at the window were looking at the stars. I'd rather be watching them and trying to name them."
"It's in your nature to take an interest in the little stars," said Seán Ó Maolchata, and he laughed.
"I was so interested in them," said the boy, "that I sat in the chair behind the screen watching them until sleep came over me. It was your voice that woke me, as you were telling about the new planet. Let me come with you to see it."
"It's no new planet," said the father. "It has always been there, but it couldn't be seen until now. Off to bed with you, and I'll show it to you some other night. Up the stairs with you."
The boy headed for his bedroom, but it was clear
(page 17)
he was not happy about it.
"Goodnight, my boy," said the astronomer to him.
"Goodnight, Dad. Goodnight, gentlemen," he said.
"He's a fine boy, God bless him," said Máirtín, as soon as the lad was out of earshot.
"He's gone a bit beyond control, I'm afraid," said the father, "since he's all I have, and his poor mother in the grave these seven years."
And with that, the astronomer put on his famous cloak, and he led the other two out the back door to the house on the far side of the garden, where the telescopes were.
They followed the path to the telescope house, but only a faint light was visible — a dim glow coming through an opening in the roof of the building.
"This place is as dark as a haunted house," said Seán Ó Maolchata, and he laughed.
"The darker it is inside, the better you can see the stars," said the other man. Then he took a small torch from his pocket and shone the light around the room, so that the other two could see what was there.
It was a round room with a wooden ceiling. Two telescopes stood in the middle of the floor, each mounted on a firm stand. There was an opening in the roof so that the observer inside could see the sky. Seán looked up and saw the little stars twinkling high above his head. Máirtín Mac Con Mhíde had often been in that room before and was not surprised by anything in it, but to Seán it was a strange and wondrous place. The astronomer explained everything to him.
"The telescopes are here — look," he said, and he directed the light toward them. "Do you see this device?"
(page 19)
"I do," said Seán. "What is it for?"
"You know that the earth is always turning."
"I know that much, however little I may know of the stars," said Seán, with a smile.
"When the telescope is aimed at a star, this device keeps it aimed at that star. It turns the telescope in step with the earth's rotation. Without this device, the astronomer would have to be adjusting the telescope every moment, because the turning of the earth would constantly throw it off course."
"I understand," said Seán.
The astronomer directed the light toward the top of the building.
"You see there's an opening in the roof," he said.
"That opening serves as the telescope's eye, and the roof can be turned from the inside so the opening can be placed in whatever position the observer wishes."
"I understand," said Seán again.
"Do you see that chair in the corner?" said the other man. "That is where the astronomer sits when
(page 20)
he is observing through the telescope. It's not the most comfortable place to spend a few hours — as he has to move around the room, adjusting the position. But you've now seen everything, I think, without any difficulty."
"I have — except for the telescopes themselves."
"Come now, here, Máirtín," he said to the other man, "look through this one."
He pushed the chair over to the telescope, turned it once or twice, and adjusted the roof until the opening above was aligned with the telescope's eyepiece.
"Now," he said.
Máirtín settled himself in the chair, and the only sound in the place for a little while was the tick-tick of the tracking device that kept the telescope aimed.
"Now look through the other one," said the astronomer.
He set up the second telescope and pushed the chair over to it.
"Right," he said, "it's aimed at the same spot."
Máirtín looked through the telescope. No sooner had he looked than he let out a cry of wonder and astonishment.
"By heaven!" he said. "That is the most extraordinary thing I have ever seen with my own eyes."
Translation notes: This text is from Manannán, written in pre-reform Irish orthography (cló Gaelach). The story concerns an astronomer who discovers, via an ancient Egyptian star chart, a hidden planet invisible to the naked eye, concealed by some unknown shell. He invites an aviator (Seán Ó Maolchata) and a scientist (Máirtín Mac Con Mhíde) to view it through a specially constructed telescope. The title refers to Manannán mac Lir, the Irish mythological god of the sea, suggesting the planet may bear this name. The library stamp on the final page reads "Students' Library, St. Peter's College, Wexford."