vellers, imitating the worthy J.T. Maston, began
to get so stout that they would not be recognisable if their
imprisonment lasted several months. They behaved like chickens in a
cage--they fattened.

Looking through the port lights Barbicane saw the spectre of the
dog, and the different objects thrown out of the projectile, which
obstinately accompanied it. Diana howled lamentably when she perceived
the remains of Satellite. All the things seemed as motionless as if they
had rested upon solid ground.

"Do you know, my friends," said Michel Ardan, "that if one of us had
succumbed to the recoil shock at departure we should have been much
embarrassed as to how to get rid of him? You see the accusing corpse
would have followed us in space like remorse!"

"That would have been sad," said Nicholl.

"Ah!" continued Michel, "what I regret is our not being able to take a
walk outside. What delight it would be to float in this radiant ether,
to bathe in these pure rays of the sun! If Barbicane had only thought of
furnishing us with diving-dresses and air-pumps I should have ventured
outside, and have assumed the attitude of a flying-horse on the summit
of the projectile."

"Ah, old fellow!" answered Barbicane, "you would not have stayed there
long in spite of your diving-dress; you would have burst like an obus by
the expansion of air inside you, or rather like a balloon that goes up
too high. So regret nothing, and do not forget this: while we are moving
in the void you must do without any sentimental promenade out of the
projectile."

Michel Ardan allowed himself to be convinced in a certain measure. He
agreed that the thing was difficult, but not "impossible;" that was a
word he never uttered.

The conversation passed from this subject to another, and never
languished an instant. It seemed to the three friends that under these
conditions ideas came into their heads like leaves in the first warm
days of spring.

Amidst the questions and answers that crossed each other during this
morning, Nicholl asked one that did not get an immediate solution.

"I say," said he, "it is all very well to go to the moon, but how shall
we get back again?"

"What do you mean by that, Nicholl?" asked Barbicane gravely.

"It seems to me very inopportune to ask about getting away from a
country before you get to it," added Michel.

"I don't ask that question because I want to draw back, but I repeat my
question, and ask, 'How shall we