fortunate Satellite had not been able to survive his wounds. He
was dead, stone dead. Michel Ardan, much put out of countenance, looked
at his friends.

"This makes another difficulty," said Barbicane. "We can't keep the dead
body of this dog with us for another eight-and-forty hours."

"No, certainly not," answered Nicholl, "but our port-lights are hung
upon hinges. They can be let down. We will open one of them, and throw
the body into space."

The president reflected for a few minutes, and then said--

"Yes, that is what we must do, but we must take the most minute
precautions."

"Why?" asked Michel.

"For two reasons that I will explain to you," answered Barbicane. "The
first has reference to the air in the projectile, of which we must lose
as little as possible."

"But we can renew the air!"

"Not entirely. We can only renew the oxygen, Michel; and, by-the-bye, we
must be careful that the apparatus do not furnish us with this oxygen in
an immoderate quantity, for an excess of it would cause grave
physiological consequences. But although we can renew the oxygen we
cannot renew the azote, that medium which the lungs do not absorb, and
which ought to remain intact. Now the azote would rapidly escape if the
port-lights were opened."

"Not just the time necessary to throw poor Satellite out."

"Agreed; but we must do it quickly."

"And what is the second reason?" asked Michel.

"The second reason is that we must not allow the exterior cold, which is
excessive, to penetrate into our projectile lest we should be frozen
alive."

"Still the sun--"

"The sun warms our projectile because it absorbs its rays, but it does
not warm the void we are in now. When there is no air there is no more
heat than there is diffused light, and where the sun's rays do not reach
directly it is both dark and cold. The temperature outside is only that
produced by the radiation of the stars--that is to say, the same as the
temperature of the terrestrial globe would be if one day the sun were to
be extinguished."

"No fear of that," answered Nicholl.

"Who knows?" said Michel Ardan. "And even supposing that the sun be not
extinguished, it might happen that the earth will move farther away from
it."

"Good!" said Nicholl; "that's one of Michel's ideas!"

"Well," resumed Michel, "it is well known that in 1861 the earth went
through the tail of a comet. Now suppose there was a comet with a power
of attraction greater than tha