rk one, yet it was with
inexpressibly mournful eyes that, silent and thoughtful, they now
watched her fading away slowly from their view, the conviction
impressing itself deeper and deeper in their souls that, slight as their
acquaintance had been, it was never to be renewed again. All doubt on
the subject was removed by the position gradually, but decidedly,
assumed by the Projectile. Its base was turning away slowly and steadily
from the Moon, and pointing surely and unmistakably towards the Earth.

Barbican had been long carefully noticing this modification, but without
being able to explain it. That the Projectile should withdraw a long
distance from the Moon and still be her satellite, he could understand;
but, being her satellite, why not present towards her its heaviest
segment, as the Moon does towards the Earth? That was the point which he
could not readily clear up.

By carefully noting its path, he thought he could see that the
Projectile, though now decidedly leaving the Moon, still followed a
curve exactly analogous to that by which it had approached her. It must
therefore be describing a very elongated ellipse, which might possibly
extend even to the neutral point where the lunar and terrestrial
attractions were mutually overcome.

With this surmise of Barbican's, his companions appeared rather disposed
to agree, though, of course, it gave rise to new questions.

"Suppose we reach this dead point," asked Ardan; "what then is to become
of us?"

"Can't tell!" was Barbican's unsatisfactory reply.

"But you can form a few hypotheses?"

"Yes, two!"

"Let us have them."

"The velocity will be either sufficient to carry us past the dead point,
or it will not: sufficient, we shall keep on, just as we are now,
gravitating forever around the Moon--"

--"Hypothesis number two will have at least one point in its favor,"
interrupted as usual the incorrigible Ardan; "it can't be worse than
hypothesis number one!"

--"Insufficient," continued Barbican, laying down the law, "we shall
rest forever motionless on the dead point of the mutually neutralizing
attractions."

"A pleasant prospect!" observed Ardan: "from the worst possible to no
better! Isn't it, Barbican?"

"Nothing to say," was Barbican's only reply.

"Have you nothing to say either, Captain?" asked Ardan, beginning to be
a little vexed at the apparent apathy of his companions.

"Nothing whatever," replied M'Nicholl, giving point to his words