And in order to give some figures for comparison it has been calculated that an object thrown from the towers of Notre Dame, the altitude of which is only 200 feet, would reach the pavement with a velocity of 120 leagues an hour.  Here the projectile would strike the earth with a velocity of 57,600 leagues an hour.

“We are lost men,” said Nicholl coldly.

“Well, if we die,” answered Barbicane, with a sort of religious enthusiasm, “the result of our journey will be magnificently enlarged!  God will tell us His own secret!  In the other life the soul will need neither machines nor engines in order to know!  It will be identified with eternal wisdom!”

“True,” replied Michel Ardan:  “the other world may well console us for that trifling orb called the moon!”

Barbicane crossed his arms upon his chest with a movement of sublime resignation.

“God’s will be done!” he said.

CHAPTER XX.

THE SOUNDINGS OF THE SUSQUEHANNA.

Well, lieutenant, and what about those soundings?”

“I think the operation is almost over, sir.  But who would have expected to find such a depth so near land, at 100 leagues only from the American coast?”

“Yes, Bronsfield, there is a great depression,” said Captain Blomsberry.  “There exists a submarine valley here, hollowed out by Humboldt’s current, which runs along the coasts of America to the Straits of Magellan.”

“Those great depths,” said the lieutenant, “are not favourable for the laying of telegraph cables.  A smooth plateau is the best, like the one the American cable lies on between Valentia and Newfoundland.”

“I agree with you, Bronsfield.  And, may it please you, lieutenant, where are we now?”

“Sir,” answered Bronsfield, “we have at this moment 21,500 feet of line out, and the bullet at the end of the line has not yet touched the bottom, for the sounding-lead would have come up again.”

“Brook’s apparatus is an ingenious one,” said Captain Blomsberry.  “It allows us to obtain very correct soundings.”

“Touched!” cried at that moment one of the forecastle-men who was superintending the operation.

The captain and lieutenant went on to the forecastle-deck.

“What depth are we in?” asked the captain.

“Twenty-one thousand seven hundred and sixty-two feet,” answered the lieutenant, writing it down in his pocket-book.

“Very well, Bronsfield,” said the captain, “I will go and mark the result on my chart.  Now have the sounding-line brought in—­that is a work of several hours.  Meanwhile the engineer shall have his fires lighted, and we shall be ready to start as soon as you have done.  It is 10 p.m., and with your permission, lieutenant, I shall turn in.”

“Certainly, sir, certainly!” answered Lieutenant Bronsfield amiably.

The captain of the Susquehanna, a worthy man if ever there was one, the very humble servant of his officers, went to his cabin, took his brandy-and-water with many expressions of satisfaction to the steward, got into bed, not before complimenting his servant on the way he made beds, and sank into peaceful slumber.