Previous - next
Her
surface still reflected the solar rays too dazzlingly to show the relief
necessary for satisfactory observation.
Our travellers kept steadily on the watch looking out of the side
lights, till eight o'clock in the evening, by which time the Moon had
grown so large in their eyes that she covered up fully half the sky. At
this time the Projectile itself must have looked like a streak of light,
reflecting, as it did, the Sun's brilliancy on the one side and the
Moon's splendor on the other.
Barbican now took a careful observation and calculated that they could
not be much more than 2,000 miles from the object of their journey. The
velocity of the Projectile he calculated to be about 650 feet per second
or 450 miles an hour. They had therefore still plenty of time to reach
the Moon in about four hours. But though the bottom of the Projectile
continued to turn towards the lunar surface in obedience to the law of
centripetal force, the centrifugal force was still evidently strong
enough to change the path which it followed into some kind of curve, the
exact nature of which would be exceedingly difficult to calculate.
The careful observations that Barbican continued to take did not however
prevent him from endeavoring to solve his difficult problem. What _had_
switched them off? The hours passed on, but brought no result. That the
adventurers were approaching the Moon was evident, but it was just as
evident that they should never reach her. The nearest point the
Projectile could ever possibly attain would only be the result of two
opposite forces, the attractive and the repulsive, which, as was now
clear, influenced its motion. Therefore, to land in the Moon was an
utter impossibility, and any such idea was to be given up at once and
for ever.
"_Quand mκme_! What of it!" cried Ardan; after some moments' silence.
"We're not to land in the Moon! Well! let us do the next best
thing--pass close enough to discover her secrets!"
But M'Nicholl could not accept the situation so coolly. On the contrary,
he decidedly lost his temper, as is occasionally the case with even
phlegmatic men. He muttered an oath or two, but in a voice hardly loud
enough to reach Barbican's ear. At last, impatient of further restraint,
he burst out:
"Who the deuce cares for her secrets? To the hangman with her secrets!
We started to land in the Moon! That's what's got to be done! That I
want or nothing! Confound the darned thing, I say, whatever it was,
whether on the Earth or off it, that shoved us off the track!"
"On the Earth or off it!" cried Barbican, striking his head suddenly;
"now I see it! You're right, Captain! Confound the bolide that we met
the first night of our journey!"
"Hey?" cried Ardan.
"What do you mean?" asked M'Nicholl.
"I mean," replied Barbican, with a voice now perfectly calm, and in a
tone of quiet conviction, "that our deviation is due altogether to that
wandering meteor.
Previous - next
