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"The casting will be a fine ceremony," said J.T. Maston to his friend Barbicane. "Undoubtedly," answered Barbicane, "but it will not be a public one!" "What! you will not open the doors of the inclosure to all comers?" "Certainly not; the casting of the Columbiad is a delicate, not to say a dangerous, operation, and I prefer that it should be done with closed doors.
"The moon has been much studied," resumed Barbicane; "its mass, density, weight, volume, constitution, movements, distance, the part it plays in the solar world, are all perfectly determined; selenographic maps have been drawn with a perfection that equals, if it does not surpass, those of terrestrial maps; photography has given to our satellite proofs of incomparable beauty in a word, all that the sciences of mathematics, astronomy, geology, and optics can teach is known about the moon; but until now no direct communication with it has ever been established."
"With a little vegetable soil spread over our aluminium planet we could grow green peas in twenty-four hours. I have only one fear, that is that the walls of our bullet will melt." "You need not alarm yourself, my worthy friend," answered Barbicane. "The projectile supported a much higher temperature while it was travelling through the atmosphere.
If I am not mistaken, another Frenchman, M. Pouillet, estimates the temperature of space at 160° below zero. We shall be able to verify that." "Not now," answered Barbicane, "for the solar rays striking directly upon our thermometer would give us, on the contrary, a very elevated temperature.
To satisfy his companions, Barbicane began to uncover the window at the bottom of the projectile, which would allow them to observe the earth direct. The disc, which the force of the projection had beaten down to the base, was removed, not without difficulty. Its fragments, placed carefully against a wall, might serve again upon occasion.
"Each in turn," answered Michel Ardan tranquilly. "I began with you, Nicholl, because you were on the top. Now I'll go to Barbicane." That said, Ardan and Nicholl raised the president of the Gun Club and put him on a divan. Barbicane seemed to have suffered more than his companions. He was bleeding, but Nicholl was glad to find that the hemorrhage only came from a slight wound in his shoulder.
Diana is 84,600 leagues off; Thetys, 62,966 leagues; Enceladus, 48,191 leagues; and lastly, Mimas is at an average distance of 34,500 leagues only. Of the eighteen satellites of Uranus, the first, Ariel, is only 51,520 leagues from the planet. Therefore, upon the surface of those three stars, an experiment analogous to that of President Barbicane would have presented less difficulties.
Our four passengers disembarked at once. "Gentlemen," said Barbicane, "we have no time to lose; tomorrow we must obtain horses, and proceed to reconnoiter the country." Barbicane had scarcely set his foot on shore when three thousand of the inhabitants of Tampa Town came forth to meet him, an honor due to the president who had signalized their country by his choice.
Nicholl read it quickly. "That's it! that is it!" he cried. "Is it clear?" asked Barbicane. "It is written in letters of fire!" answered Nicholl. "Clever fellows!" murmured Michel. "Do you understand now?" asked Barbicane. "If I understand!" cried Michel Ardan. "My head is bursting with it."
The shock might have come from the interior of the planet. A violent contraction of the lunar crust whilst cooling was enough to make that gigantic crack." "Contraction let it be something like a lunar colic," answered Michel Ardan. "Besides," added Barbicane, "that is also the opinion of an English savant, Nasmyth, and it seems to me to explain the radiation of these mountains sufficiently."
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