〃Forty…two　minutes　past　ten！〃　said　Nicholl。
  〃Only　five　minutes　more！〃　answered　Barbicane。
  〃Yes；　five　little　minutes！〃　replied　Michel　Ardan；　〃and　we　are
  enclosed　in　a　projectile；　at　the　bottom　of　a　gun　900　feet　long！
  And　under　this　projectile　are　rammed　400；000　pounds　of　gun…cotton；
  which　is　equal　to　1；600；000　pounds　of　ordinary　powder！　　And　friend
  Murchison；　with　his　chronometer　in　hand；　his　eye　fixed　on　the
  needle；　his　finger　on　the　electric　apparatus；　is　counting　the
  seconds　preparatory　to　launching　us　into　interplanetary　space。〃
  〃Enough；　Michel；　enough！〃　said　Barbicane；　in　a　serious　voice；
  〃let　us　prepare。　　A　few　instants　alone　separate　us　from　an
  eventful　moment。　　One　clasp　of　the　hand；　my　friends。〃
  〃Yes；〃　exclaimed　Michel　Ardan；　more　moved　than　he　wished　to
  appear；　and　the　three　bold　companions　were　united　in　a　last　embrace。
  〃God　preserve　us！〃　said　the　religious　Barbicane。
  Michel　Ardan　and　Nicholl　stretched　themselves　on　the　couches
  placed　in　the　center　of　the　disc。
  〃Forty…seven　minutes　past　ten！〃　murmured　the　captain。
  〃Twenty　seconds　more！〃　　Barbicane　quickly　put　out　the　gas　and
  lay　down　by　his　companions；　and　the　profound　silence　was　only
  broken　by　the　ticking　of　the　chronometer　marking　the　seconds。
  Suddenly　a　dreadful　shock　was　felt；　and　the　projectile；　under
  the　force　of　six　billions　of　litres　of　gas；　developed　by　the
  combustion　of　pyroxyle；　mounted　into　space。
  CHAPTER　II
  THE　FIRST　HALF…HOUR
  What　had　happened？　　What　effect　had　this　frightful　shock　produced？
  Had　the　ingenuity　of　the　constructors　of　the　projectile　obtained
  any　happy　result？　　Had　the　shock　been　deadened；　thanks　to　the
  springs；　the　four　plugs；　the　water…cushions；　and　the　partition…breaks？
  Had　they　been　able　to　subdue　the　frightful　pressure　of　the　initiatory
  speed　of　more　than　11；000　yards；　which　was　enough　to　traverse　Paris
  or　New　York　in　a　second？　　This　was　evidently　the　question　suggested
  to　the　thousand　spectators　of　this　moving　scene。　　They　forgot　the
  aim　of　the　journey；　and　thought　only　of　the　travelers。　　And　if
  one　of　them　Joseph　T。　Maston　for　example　could　have　cast　one
  glimpse　into　the　projectile；　what　would　he　have　seen？
  Nothing　then。　　The　darkness　was　profound。　　But　its　cylindro…
  conical　partitions　had　resisted　wonderfully。　　Not　a　rent　or　a
  dent　anywhere！　　The　wonderful　projectile　was　not　even　heated
  under　the　intense　deflagration　of　the　powder；　nor　liquefied；
  as　they　seemed　to　fear；　in　a　shower　of　aluminum。
  The　interior　showed　but　little　disorder；　indeed；　only　a　few
  objects　had　been　violently　thrown　toward　the　roof；　but　the　most
  important　seemed　not　to　have　suffered　from　the　shock　at　all；
  their　fixtures　were　intact。
  On　the　movable　disc；　sunk　down　to　the　bottom　by　the　smashing　of
  the　partition…breaks　and　the　escape　of　the　water；　three　bodies
  lay　apparently　lifeless。　　Barbicane；　Nicholl；　and　Michel　Ardan
  did　they　still　breathe？　or　was　the　projectile　nothing　now　but　a
  metal　coffin；　bearing　three　corpses　into　space？
  Some　minutes　after　the　departure　of　the　projectile；　one　of
  the　bodies　moved；　shook　its　arms；　lifted　its　head；　and　finally
  succeeded　in　getting　on　its　knees。　　It　was　Michel　Ardan。　　He　felt
  himself　all　over；　gave　a　sonorous　〃Hem！〃　and　then　said：
  〃Michel　Ardan　is　whole。　　How　about　the　others？〃
  The　courageous　Frenchman　tried　to　rise；　but　could　not　stand。
  His　head　swam；　from　the　rush　of　blood；　he　was　blind；　he　was　a
  drunken　man。
  〃Bur…r！〃　said　he。　　〃It　produces　the　same　effect　as　two　bottles
  of　Corton；　though　perhaps　less　agreeable　to　swallow。〃
  Then；　passing　his　hand　several　times　across　his　forehead　and
  rubbing　his　temples；　he　called　in　a　firm　voice：
  〃Nicholl！　　Barbicane！〃
  He　waited　anxiously。　　No　answer；　not　even　a　sigh　to　show　that
  the　hearts　of　his　companions　were　still　beating。　　He　called　again。
  The　same　silence。
  〃The　devil！〃　he　exclaimed。　　〃They　look　as　if　they　had　fallen
  from　a　fifth　story　on　their　heads。　　Bah！〃　he　added；　with　that
  imperturbable　confidence　which　nothing　could　check；　〃if　a
  Frenchman　can　get　on　his　knees；　two　Americans　ought　to　be　able
  to　get　on　their　feet。　　But　first　let　us　light　up。〃
  Ardan　felt　the　tide　of　life　return　by　degrees。　　His　blood　became
  calm；　and　returned　to　its　accustomed　circulation。　　Another　effort
  restored　his　equilibrium。　　He　succeeded　in　rising；　drew　a　match
  from　his　pocket；　and　approaching　the　burner　lighted　it。
  The　receiver　had　not　suffered　at　all。　　The　gas　had　not　escaped。
  Besides；　the　smell　would　have　betrayed　it；　and　in　that　case
  Michel　Ardan　could　not　have　carried　a　lighted　match　with
  impunity　through　the　space　filled　with　hydrogen。　　The　gas　mixing
  with　the　air　would　have　produced　a　detonating　mixture；　and　the
  explosion　would　have　finished　what　the　shock　had　perhaps　begun。
  When　the　burner　was　lit；　Ardan　leaned　over　the　bodies　of　his
  companions：　　they　were　lying　one　on　the　other；　an　inert　mass；
  Nicholl　above；　Barbicane　underneath。
  Ardan　lifted　the　captain；　propped　him　up　against　the　divan；　and
  began　to　rub　vigorously。　　This　means；　used　with　judgment；
  restored　Nicholl；　who　opened　his　eyes；　and　instantly　recovering
  his　presence　of　mind；　seized　Ardan's　hand　and　looked　around　him。
  〃And　Barbicane？〃　said　he。
  〃Each　in　turn；〃　replied　Michel　Ardan。　　〃I　began　with　you；
  Nicholl；　because　you　were　on　the　top。　　Now　let　us　look
  to　Barbicane。〃　　Saying　which；　Ardan　and　Nicholl　raised　the
  president　of　the　Gun　Club　and　laid　him　on　the　divan。　　He　seemed
  to　have　suffered　more　than　either　of　his　companions；　he　was
  bleeding；　but　Nicholl　was　reassured　by　finding　that　the
  hemorrhage　came　from　a　slight　wound　on　the　shoulder；　a　mere
  graze；　which　he　bound　up　carefully。
  Still；　Barbicane　was　a　long　time　coming　to　himself；　which
  frightened　his　friends；　who　did　not　spare　friction。
  〃He　breathes　though；〃　said　Nicholl；　putting　his　ear　to　the　chest
  of　the　wounded　man。
  〃Yes；〃　replied　Ardan；　〃he　breathes　like　a　man　who　has　some
  notion　of　that　daily　operation。　　Rub；　Nicholl；　let　us　rub　harder。〃
  And　the　two　improvised　practitioners　worked　so　hard　and　so　well
  that　Barbicane　recovered　his　senses。　　He　opened　his　eyes；　sat　up；
  took　his　two　friends　by　the　hands；　and　his　first　words　were
  〃Nicholl；　are　we　moving？〃
  Nicholl　and　Ardan　looked　at　each　other；　they　had　not　yet
  troubled　themselves　about　the　projectile；　their　first　thought
  had　been　for　the　traveler；　not　for　the　car。
  〃Well；　are　we　really　moving？〃　repeated　Michel　Ardan。
  〃Or　quietly　resting　on　the　soil　of　Florida？〃　asked　Nicholl。
  〃Or　at　the　bottom　of　the　Gulf　of　Mexico？〃　added　Michel　Ardan。
  〃What　an　idea！〃　exclaimed　the　president。
  And　this　double　hypothesis　suggested　by　his　companions　had　the
  effect　of　recalling　him　to　his　senses。　　In　any　case　they　could
  not　decide　on　the　position　of　the　projectile。　　Its　apparent
  immovability；　and　the　want　of　communication　with　the　outside；
  prevented　them　from　solving　the　question。　　Perhaps　the　projectile
  was　unwinding　its　course　through　space。　　Perhaps　after　a　short
  rise　it　had　fallen　upon　the　earth；　or　even　in　the　Gulf　of　Mexico
  a　fall　which　the　narrowness　of　the　peninsula　of　Florida　would
  render　not　impossible。
  The　case　was　serious；　the　problem　interesting；　and　one　that　must
  be　solved　as　soon　as　possible。　　Thus；　highly　excited；　Barbicane's
  moral　energy　triumphed　over　physical　weakness；　and　he　rose　to
  his　feet。　　He　listened。　　Outside　was　perfect　silence；　but　the
  thick　padding　was　enough　to　intercept　all　sounds　coming　from
  the　earth。　　But　one　circumstance　struck　Barbicane；　viz。；　that
  the　temperature　inside　the　projectile　was　singularly　high。
  The　president　drew　a　thermometer　from　its　case　and　consulted　it。
  The　instrument　showed　81@　Fahr。
  〃Yes；〃　he　exclaimed；　〃yes；　we　are　moving！　　This　stifling　heat；
  penetrating　through　the　partitions　of　the　projectile；　is
  produced　by　its　friction　on　the　atmospheric　strata。　　It　will
  soon　diminish；　because　we　are　already　floating　in　space；　and
  after　having　nearly　stifled；　we　shall　have　to　suffer　intense　cold。
  〃What！〃　said　Michel　Ardan。　　〃According　to　your　showing；　Barbicane；
  we　are　already　beyond　the　limits　of　the　terrestrial　atmosphere？〃
  〃Without　a　doubt；　Michel。　　Listen　to　me。　　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。　　This　diminution　is
  considerable；　but　according　to　my　calculations　it　is　nothing　less。
  If；　then；　we　had　an　initiatory　speed　of　12；000　yards；　on　leaving
  the　atmosphere　this　speed　would　be　reduced　to　9；165　yards。　　In　any
  case　we　have　already　passed　through　this　interval；　and〃
  〃And　then；〃　said　Michel　Ardan；　〃friend　Nicholl　has　lost　his　two
  bets：　　four　thousand　dollars　because　the　Columbiad　did　not　burst；
  five　thousand　dollars　because　the　projectile　has　risen　more　than
  six　miles。　　Now；　Nicholl；　pay　up。〃
  〃Let　us　prove　it　first；〃　said　the　captain；　〃and　we　will
  pay　afterward。　　It　is　quite　possible　that　Barbicane's　reasoning