“Yes,” answered the president of the Gun
Club.
“Well, good morning, Barbicane. How are
you? Very well? That’s right! that’s
right!”
“Then,” said Barbicane, without further
preliminary, “you have decided to go?”
“Quite decided.”
“Nothing will stop you?”
“Nothing. Have you altered your projectile
as I told you in my message?”
“I waited till you came. But,” asked
Barbicane, insisting once more, “you have quite
reflected?”
“Reflected! have I any time to lose? I
find the occasion to go for a trip to the moon, I
profit by it, and that is all. It seems to me
that does not want so much reflection.”
Barbicane looked eagerly at the man who spoke of his
project of journey with so much carelessness, and
with such absence of anxiety.
“But at least,” he said, “you have
some plan, some means of execution?”
“Excellent means. But allow me to tell
you one thing. I like to say my say once and
for all, and to everybody, and to hear no more about
it. Then, unless you can think of something better,
call together your friends, your colleagues, all the
town, all Florida, all America if you like, and to-morrow
I shall be ready to state my means of execution, and
answer any objections, whatever they may be. Will
that do?”
“Yes, that will do,” answered Barbicane.
Whereupon the president left the cabin, and told the
crowd about Michel Ardan’s proposition.
His words were received with great demonstrations
of joy. That cut short all difficulties.
The next day every one could contemplate the European
hero at their ease. Still some of the most obstinate
spectators would not leave the deck of the Atlanta;
they passed the night on board. Amongst others,
J.T. Maston had screwed his steel hook into the
combing of the poop, and it would have taken the capstan
to get it out again.
“He is a hero! a hero!” cried he in every
tone, “and we are only old women compared to
that European!”
As to the president, after having requested the spectators
to withdraw, he re-entered the passenger’s cabin,
and did not leave it till the bell of the steamer
rang out the midnight quarter.
But then the two rivals in popularity shook each other
warmly by the hand, and separated friends.
A MEETING.
The next day the sun did not rise early enough to
satisfy public impatience. Barbicane, fearing
that indiscreet questions would be put to Michel Ardan,
would like to have reduced his auditors to a small
number of adepts, to his colleagues for instance.
But it was as easy as to dam up the Falls at Niagara.
He was, therefore, obliged to renounce his project,
and let his friend run all the risks of a public lecture.
The new Town Hall of Tampa Town, notwithstanding its
colossal dimensions, was considered insufficient for
the occasion, which had assumed the proportions of
a public meeting.
