ovement nor switch off its direction. A sailor can turn
his ship's head at pleasure; an aeronaut has little trouble, by means of
his ballast and his throttle-valve, in giving a vertical movement to his
balloon. But nothing of this kind could our travellers attempt. No helm,
or ballast, or throttle-valve could avail them now. Nothing in the world
could be done to prevent things from following their own course to the
bitter end.

If these three men would permit themselves to hazard an expression at
all on the subject, which they didn't, each could have done it by his
own favorite motto, so admirably expressive of his individual nature.
"_Donnez tete baissee!_" (Go it baldheaded!) showed Ardan's
uncalculating impetuosity and his Celtic blood. "_Fata quocunque
vocant!_" (To its logical consequence!) revealed Barbican's
imperturbable stoicism, culture hardening rather than loosening the
original British phlegm. Whilst M'Nicholl's "Screw down the valve and
let her rip!" betrayed at once his unconquerable Yankee coolness and his
old experiences as a Western steamboat captain.

Where were they now, at eight o'clock in the morning of the day called
in America the sixth of December? Near the Moon, very certainly; near
enough, in fact, for them to perceive easily in the dark the great round
screen which she formed between themselves and the Projectile on one
side, and the Earth, Sun, and stars on the other. But as to the exact
distance at which she lay from them--they had no possible means of
calculating it. The Projectile, impelled and maintained by forces
inexplicable and even incomprehensible, had come within less than thirty
miles from the Moon's north pole. But during those two hours of
immersion in the dark shadow, had this distance been increased or
diminished? There was evidently no stand-point whereby to estimate
either the Projectile's direction or its velocity. Perhaps, moving
rapidly away from the Moon, it would be soon out of her shadow
altogether. Perhaps, on the contrary, gradually approaching her surface,
it might come into contact at any moment with some sharp invisible peak
of the Lunar mountains--a catastrophe sure to put a sudden end to the
trip, and the travellers too.

An excited discussion on this subject soon sprang up, in which all
naturally took part. Ardan's imagination as usual getting the better of
his reason, he maintained very warmly that the Projectile, caught and
retained by the Moon's attractio