gs and cock-crows of singular sonority were heard. Five
or six fowls flew about striking the walls like mad bats.

Then the three travelling companions, whose lungs were disorganised
under some incomprehensible influence, more than intoxicated, burnt by
the air that had set their breathing apparatus on fire, fell motionless
upon the bottom of the projectile.

CHAPTER VIII.

AT SEVENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN LEAGUES.

What had happened? What was the cause of that singular intoxication, the
consequences of which might prove so disastrous? Simply carelessness on
Michel's part, which Nicholl was able to remedy in time.

After a veritable swoon, which lasted a few minutes, the captain, who
was the first to regain consciousness, soon collected his intellectual
faculties.

Although he had breakfasted two hours before, he began to feel as hungry
as if he had not tasted food for several days. His whole being, his
brain and stomach, were excited to the highest point.

He rose, therefore, and demanded a supplementary collation from Michel,
who was still unconscious, and did not answer. Nicholl, therefore,
proceeded to prepare some cups of tea, in order to facilitate the
absorption of a dozen sandwiches. He busied himself first with lighting
a fire, and so struck a match.

What was his surprise to see the sulphur burn with extraordinary and
almost unbearable brilliancy! From the jet of gas he lighted rose a
flame equal to floods of electric light.

A revelation took place in Nicholl's mind. This intensity of light, the
physiological disturbance in himself, the extra excitement of all his
moral and sensitive faculties--he understood it all.

"The oxygen!" he exclaimed.

And leaning over the air-apparatus, he saw that the tap was giving out a
flood of colourless, savourless, and odourless gas, eminently vital, but
which in a pure state produces the gravest disorders in the
constitution. Through carelessness Michel had left the tap full on.
Nicholl made haste to turn off this flow of oxygen with which the
atmosphere was saturated, and which would have caused the death of the
travellers, not by suffocation, but by combustion.

An hour afterwards the air was relieved, and gave their normal play to
the lungs. By degrees the three friends recovered from their
intoxication; but they were obliged to recover from their oxygen like a
drunkard from his wine.

When Michel knew his share of responsibility