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"In this spot there is a submarine valley worn by Humboldt's current, which skirts the coast of America as far as the Straits of Magellan." "These great depths," continued the lieutenant, "are not favorable for laying telegraphic cables. A level bottom, like that supporting the American cable between Valentia and Newfoundland, is much better." "I agree with you, Bronsfield.

Bronsfield," replied the captain, "now, with your permission, we will have the line cut." A strong buoy, strengthened by a couple of spars, was thrown into the ocean. The end of the rope was carefully lashed to it; and, left solely to the rise and fall of the billows, the buoy would not sensibly deviate from the spot.

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."

On the appearance of the moon, their thoughts turned to that orb which the eyes of a whole hemisphere were contemplating. The best naval glasses could not have discovered the projectile wandering around its hemisphere, and yet all were pointed toward that brilliant disc which millions of eyes were looking at at the same moment. "They have been gone ten days," said Lieutenant Bronsfield at last.

"It is clear," replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, "that J. T. Maston will one day join his friends." "If he will have me," cried the midshipman, "I am ready!" "Oh! volunteers will not be wanting," answered Bronsfield; "and if it were allowed, half of the earth's inhabitants would emigrate to the moon!"

They jumped out on the quay. "The telegraph-office?" they asked, without answering one of the thousand questions that were showered upon them. The port inspector guided them himself to the telegraph-office, amidst an immense crowd of curious people. Blomsberry and Bronsfield went into the office whilst the crowd crushed against the door.

Besides, if the experiment has succeeded, which I do not doubt, it will be done again. The Columbiad is still walled up in the soil of Florida. It is, therefore, now only a question of powder and shot, and every time the moon passes the zenith we can send it a cargo of visitors." "It is evident," answered Lieutenant Bronsfield, "that J.T. Maston will go and join his friends one of these days."

After casting anchor, Captain Blomsberry and Lieutenant Bronsfield entered an eight-pared cutter, which soon brought them to land. They jumped on to the quay. "The telegraph?" they asked, without answering one of the thousand questions addressed to them. The officer of the port conducted them to the telegraph office through a concourse of spectators.

"Touch!" cried at this moment one of the men at the forewheel, who was superintending the operation. The captain and the lieutenant mounted the quarterdeck. "What depth have we?" asked the captain. "Three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven fathoms," replied the lieutenant, entering it in his notebook. "Well, Bronsfield," said the captain, "I will take down the result.

As the moon appeared their thoughts turned towards that orb which the eyes of a whole hemisphere were then contemplating. The best marine glasses could not have discovered the projectile wandering round the demi-globe, and yet they were all pointed at the shining disc which millions of eyes were looking at in the same moment. "They started ten days ago," then said Lieutenant Bronsfield.