er one, if it is not too much trouble," answered
M'Nicholl; "it saves dispute."

Coolly and mechanically, as if seated at his desk, in his office,
Barbican opened his memorandum book, wrote a receipt on a blank page,
dated, signed and sealed it, and then handed it to the Captain, who put
it away carefully among the other papers of his portfolio.

Ardan, taking off his hat, made a profound bow to both of his
companions, without saying a word. Such formality, under such
extraordinary circumstances, actually paralysed his tongue for the
moment. No wonder that he could not understand those Americans. Even
Indians would have surprised him by an exhibition of such stoicism.
After indulging in silent wonder for a minute or two, he joined his
companions who were now busy looking out at the starry sky.

"Where is the Moon?" he asked. "How is it that we cannot see her?"

"The fact of our not seeing her," answered Barbican, "gives me very
great satisfaction in one respect; it shows that our Projectile was shot
so rapidly out of the Columbiad that it had not time to be impressed
with the slightest revolving motion--for us a most fortunate matter. As
for the rest--see, there is _Cassiopeia_, a little to the left is
_Andromeda_, further down is the great square of _Pegasus_, and to the
southwest _Fomalhaut_ can be easily seen swallowing the _Cascade_. All
this shows we are looking west and consequently cannot see the Moon,
which is approaching the zenith from the east. Open the other light--But
hold on! Look here! What can this be?"

The three travellers, looking westwardly in the direction of _Alpherat_,
saw a brilliant object rapidly approaching them. At a distance, it
looked like a dusky moon, but the side turned towards the Earth blazed
with a bright light, which every moment became more intense. It came
towards them with prodigious velocity and, what was worse, its path lay
so directly in the course of the Projectile that a collision seemed
inevitable. As it moved onward, from west to east, they could easily see
that it rotated on its axis, like all heavenly bodies; in fact, it
somewhat resembled a Moon on a small scale, describing its regular orbit
around the Earth.

"_Mille tonerres!_" cried Ardan, greatly excited; "what is that? Can it
be another projectile?" M'Nicholl, wiping his spectacles, looked again,
but made no reply. Barbican looked puzzled and uneasy. A collision was
quite possible, and the results, even if not