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Updated: June 22, 2025
The oblique direction of the bullet, from its very obliquity, left Michel Ardan some hope of touching the lunar disc at some point or other. He could not believe that he should not get to it. No, he could not believe it, and this he often repeated. But Barbicane, who was a better judge, always answered him with pitiless logic. "No, Michel, no.
"Because it will be trying to solve the problem called `the problem of the three bodies, for which the integral calculus is not yet far enough advanced." "Then," said Michel Ardan, in his sly tone, "mathematics have not said their last word?" "Certainly not," replied Barbicane.
Barbican and M'Nicholl tried to kill time by revising their calculations and putting their notes in order; Ardan, by feverishly walking back and forth from window to window, and stopping for a second or two to throw a nervous glance at the cold, silent and impassive Moon. Now and then reminiscences of our lower world would flit across their brains.
"Seems to me I heard the crowing of a cock," observed the Captain. "I never thought your ears could be so easily deceived, Captain," cried Ardan, quickly, "Let us try it again," and, flapping his ribs with his arms, he gave vent to a crow so loud and natural that the lustiest chanticleer that ever saluted the orb of day might be proud of it.
What can he be doing?" "But do you recognise him?" asked Michel Ardan. "Yes, yes! he is turning round," answered Maston. "Who is it?" "Captain Nicholl!" "Nicholl!" cried Michel Ardan, whose heart almost stopped beating. "Nicholl disarmed! Then he had nothing more to fear from his adversary?" "Let us go to him," said Michel Ardan; "we shall know how it is."
Her disc shone like a mirror of polished platins. The travellers remained for some time absorbed in the silent contemplation of the glorious scene. "How they're gazing at her this very moment from Stony Hill!" said the Captain at last to break the silence. "By Jove!" cried Ardan; "It's true! Captain you're right. We were near forgetting our dear old Mother, the Earth. What ungrateful children!
"A grand view to take of it, dear friend Barbican;" replied Ardan, "and a consoling one too. The privilege of roaming at will through God's great universe should make ample amends for missing the Moon!" M'Nicholl fixed his eyes on Barbican admiringly, feebly muttering with hardly moving lips: "Grit to the marrow! Grit to the marrow!"
It is to make them all good Republicans, if they are not so already!" "Provided, of course, that there are Selenites in existence!" sneered the Captain, now sourer than ever, and in his unaccountable excitement doubly irritating. "Who says there are no Selenites?" cried Ardan fiercely, with fists clenched and brows contracted.
At last, Barbican suddenly opened his eyes, started into an upright position on the sofa, took his friends by the hands, and, in a voice showing complete consciousness, demanded eagerly: "Ardan, M'Nicholl, are we moving?" His friends looked at each other, a little amused, but more perplexed.
It will be noticed that this hemisphere is thirteen and a-half times smaller than the terrestrial hemisphere. And yet upon it selenographers have already counted 50,000 craters. It is a rugged surface worthy of the unpoetical qualification of "green cheese" which the English have given it. When Barbicane pronounced this disobliging name Michel Ardan gave a bound.
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