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.