ld Belfast
have announced to the world such a startling piece of intelligence? Was
that all the Earth was ever to know of their great enterprise? What were
the speculations of the Scientific World upon the subject? etc., etc.

In listless questions and desultory conversation of this kind the day
slowly wore away, without the occurrence of any incident whatever to
relieve its weary monotony. Midnight arrived, December the seventh was
dead. As Ardan said: "_Le Sept Decembre est mort; vive le Huit!_" In one
hour more, the neutral point would be reached. At what velocity was the
Projectile now moving? Barbican could not exactly tell, but he felt
quite certain that no serious error had slipped into his calculations.
At one o'clock that night, _nil_ the velocity was to be, and _nil_ it
would be!

Another phenomenon, in any case, was to mark the arrival of the exact
moment. At the dead point, the two attractions, terrestrial and lunar,
would again exactly counterbalance each other. For a few seconds,
objects would no longer possess the slightest weight. This curious
circumstance, which had so much surprised and amused the travellers at
its first occurrence, was now to appear again as soon as the conditions
should become identical. During these few seconds then would come the
moment for striking the decisive blow.

They could soon notice the gradual approach of this important instant.
Objects began to weigh sensibly lighter. The conical point of the
Projectile had become almost directly under the centre of the lunar
surface. This gladdened the hearts of the bold adventurers. The recoil
of the rockets losing none of its power by oblique action, the chances
pronounced decidedly in their favor. Now, only supposing the
Projectile's velocity to be absolutely annihilated at the dead point,
the slightest force directing it towards the Moon would be _certain_ to
cause it finally to fall on her surface.

Supposing!--but supposing the contrary!

--Even these brave adventurers had not the courage to suppose the
contrary!

"Five minutes to one o'clock," said M'Nicholl, his eyes never quitting
his watch.

"Ready?" asked Barbican of Ardan.

"Ay, ay, sir!" was Ardan's reply, as he made sure that the electric
apparatus to discharge the rockets was in perfect working order.

"Wait till I give the word," said Barbican, pulling out his chronometer.

The moment was now evidently close at hand. The objects lying around had
no weight. T