The same spectacle was spread before them. All
the extent of the celestial sphere swarmed with stars
and constellations of marvellous brilliancy, enough
to make an astronomer wild! On one side the sun,
like the mouth of a fiery furnace, shone upon the
dark background of the heavens. On the other
side the moon, reflecting back his fires, seemed motionless
amidst the starry world. Then a large spot, like
a hole in the firmament, bordered still by a slight
thread of silver—it was the earth.
Here and there nebulous masses like large snow-flakes,
and from zenith to nadir an immense ring, formed of
an impalpable dust of stars—that milky
way amidst which the sun only counts as a star of the
fourth magnitude!
The spectators could not take their eyes off a spectacle
so new, of which no description could give any idea.
What reflections it suggested! What unknown emotions
it aroused in the soul! Barbicane wished to begin
the recital of his journey under the empire of these
impressions, and he noted down hourly all the events
that signalised the beginning of his enterprise.
He wrote tranquilly in his large and rather commercial-looking
handwriting.
During that time the calculating Nicholl looked over
the formulae of trajectories, and worked away at figures
with unparalleled dexterity. Michel Ardan talked
sometimes to Barbicane, who did not answer much, to
Nicholl, who did not hear, and to Diana, who did not
understand his theories, and lastly to himself, making
questions and answers, going and coming, occupying
himself with a thousand details, sometimes leaning
over the lower port-light, sometimes roosting in the
heights of the projectile, singing all the time.
In this microcosm he represented the French agitation
and loquacity, and it was worthily represented.
The day, or rather—for the expression is
not correct—the lapse of twelve hours which
makes a day upon earth—was ended by a copious
supper carefully prepared. No incident of a nature
to shake the confidence of the travellers had happened,
so, full of hope and already sure of success, they
went to sleep peacefully, whilst the projectile, at
a uniformly increasing speed, made its way in the
heavens.
CHAPTER IV.
A LITTLE ALGEBRA.
The night passed without incident. Correctly
speaking, the word “night” is an improper
one. The position of the projectile in regard
to the sun did not change. Astronomically it
was day on the bottom of the bullet, and night on
the top. When, therefore, in this recital these
two words are used they express the lapse of time
between the rising and setting of the sun upon earth.
