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Updated: May 9, 2025
A bomb could not have made more noise or have entered the room with less ceremony. "Last night," cried J. T. Maston, ex abrupto, "our president was publicly insulted during the meeting. He provoked his adversary, who is none other than Captain Nicholl! They are fighting this morning in the wood of Skersnaw. I heard all the particulars from the mouth of Barbicane himself.
Barbicane had said to himself, not unreasonably, that no spring would be sufficiently powerful to deaden the shock, and during his famous promenade in Skersnaw Wood he had ended by solving this great difficulty in an ingenious fashion. He depended upon water to render him this signal service. This is how:
"And you will answer to me for this insult?" "At this very moment." "No! I desire that all that passes between us shall be secret. Their is a wood situated three miles from Tampa, the wood of Skersnaw. Do you know it?" "I know it." "Will you be so good as to enter it to-morrow morning at five o'clock, on one side?" "Yes! if you will enter at the other side at the same hour."
"Yesterday evening," exclaimed J.T. Maston ex abrupto, "our president was publicly insulted during the meeting! He has challenged his adversary, who is no other than Captain Nicholl! They are going to fight this morning in Skersnaw Wood! I learnt it all from Barbicane himself! If he is killed our project will be at an end! This duel must be prevented!
"And you shall give me satisfaction for that insult." "Now, this minute." "No. I wish everything between us to be kept secret. There is a wood situated three miles from Tampa Skersnaw Wood. Do you know it?" "Yes." "Will you enter it to-morrow morning at five o'clock by one side?" "Yes, if you will enter it by the other at the same time." "And you will not forget your rifle?" said Barbicane.
In vain did Michel Ardan and he rush across the plain still wet with dew, jump the creeks, take the shortest cuts; they could not reach Skersnaw Wood before half-past five. Barbicane must have entered it half-an-hour before. There an old bushman was tying up faggots his axe had cut. Maston ran to him crying "Have you seen a man enter the wood armed with a rifle?
"What demons you are!" cried Michel Ardan, when his companion had depicted this scene to him with much energy. "Yes, we are," replied J. T. modestly; "but we had better make haste." Though Michel Ardan and he had crossed the plains still wet with dew, and had taken the shortest route over creeks and ricefields, they could not reach Skersnaw in under five hours and a half.
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