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Nicholl, touched, was watching it fly through the copse when he heard these words uttered in a voice full of emotion: "You are a brave man, you are!" He turned. Michel Ardan was in front of him, repeating in every tone "And a kind one!" "Michel Ardan!" exclaimed the captain, "what have you come here for, sir?"
It is fifty-five minutes past ten; we have been gone about eight minutes; and if our initiatory speed has not been checked by the friction, six seconds would be enough for us to pass through the forty miles of atmosphere which surrounds the globe." "Just so," replied Nicholl; "but in what proportion do you estimate the diminution of speed by friction?" "In the proportion of one-third, Nicholl.
Anne Nicholl, born in England about 1728, played the violin before the Duke of Cumberland at Huntley in 1746, and her granddaughter, Mary Anne Paton, also, who was better known as a singer and who became Lady Lenox, and afterwards Mrs. Wood, was a violinist. The celebrated Madame Gertrude Elizabeth Mara, one of the greatest singers of her time, was a violinist when young.
That will do honor to the canine race! If ever we do come down again, I will bring a cross type of `moon-dogs, which will make a stir!" "If there are dogs in the moon," said Barbicane. "There are," said Michel Ardan, "just as there are horses, cows, donkeys, and chickens. I bet that we shall find chickens." "A hundred dollars we shall find none!" said Nicholl.
We had a little bit of trouble in the regiment a week since; four of the men Allan Macpherson, Jock Hunter, Donald Nicholl, and Sandy Grahame came in after tattoo, and all a bit fu'. It was not here they got it, though; I know better than to supply men with liquor when it is time for them to be off to the barracks.
"Just so," replied Barbicane. "And it would not be quite useless to carry some pieces of artillery to defend oneself." "Good," replied Nicholl; "your projectiles would have no effect on the sun; they would fall back upon the earth after some minutes." "That is a strong remark."
We shall follow one or the other of these curves? Good. But where will they lead us to?" "Nowhere," replied Nicholl. "How, nowhere?" "Evidently," said Barbicane, "they are open curves, which may be prolonged indefinitely." "Ah, savants!" cried Michel; "and what are either the one or the other to us from the moment we know that they equally lead us into infinite space?"
The forms of Barbicane, Nicholl, and Michel Ardan, bathed in its white sheets, assumed that livid spectral appearance which physicians produce with the fictitious light of alcohol impregnated with salt. "By Jove!" cried Michel Ardan, "we are hideous. What is that ill-conditioned moon?" "A meteor," replied Barbicane. "A meteor burning in space?" "Yes."
"You don't know!" cried Michel with a shout that provoked a sonorous echo in the projectile. "No, I have not the least idea!" answered Barbicane, shouting in unison with his interlocutor. "Well, then, I know," answered Michel. "Speak, then," said Nicholl, who could no longer restrain the angry tones of his voice. "I shall speak if it suits me!" cried Michel, violently seizing his companion's arm.
And who can say that this attraction was powerful enough to alter the motion of the moon at that period when the earth was still fluid?" "Just so," replied Nicholl; "and who can say that the moon has always been a satellite of the earth?" "And who can say," exclaimed Michel Ardan, "that the moon did not exist before the earth?"
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