 Book 1, Chapter 23 of Off on a Comet. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Off on a Comet by Jules Verne, translated by Anonymous. Book 1, Chapter 23, A Carrier Pigeon. Three hours after sunset, on the 23rd of March, the Galleon Moon rose upon the western horizon. It was observed that she had entered upon her last quarter. She had taken only four days to pass from Zizzigie to Quadrature, and it was consequently evident that she would be visible for little more than a week at a time, and that her lunation would be accomplished within sixteen days. The lunar months, like the solar days, had been diminished by one half. Three days later, the Moon was in conjunction with the Sun, and was consequently lost to view. Benzouf, as the first observer of the satellite, was extremely interested in its movements, and wondered whether it would ever reappear. On the 26th, under an atmosphere perfectly clear and dry, the thermometer fell to twelve degrees F below zero. Of the present distance of Galleon from the Sun, and the number of leagues she had traversed since the receipt of the last mysterious document, there was no means of judging. The extent of diminution in the apparent disc of the Sun did not afford sufficient basis even for an approximate calculation, and Captain Servodak was perpetually regretting that they could receive no further tidings from the anonymous correspondent, whom he persisted in regarding as a fellow countryman. The solidity of the ice was perfect. The utter stillness of the air at the time when final conglolation of the waters had taken place had resulted in the formation of a surface that for smoothness would rival a skating rink. Without a crack or flaw it extended far beyond the range of vision. The contrast to the ordinary aspect of polar seas was very remarkable. There, the ice fields are an agglomeration of hummocks and icebergs, massed in wild confusion, often towering higher than the masts of the largest whalers, and from the instability of their foundations liable to an instantaneous loss of equilibrium. A breath of wind, a slight modification of the temperature, not unfrequently serving to bring about a series of changes out rivaling the most elaborate transformation scenes of a pantomime. Here, on the contrary, the vast white plain was level as the desert of Sahara or the Russian steppes. The waters of the Galleon Sea were imprisoned beneath the solid sheet, which became continually stouter in the increasing cold. Accustomed to the uneven crystallizations of their own frozen seas, the Russians could not be otherwise than delighted with the polished surface that afforded them such excellent opportunity for enjoying their favorite pastime of skating. A supply of skates, found hidden away amongst the de Bernes stores, was speedily brought into use. The Russians undertook the instruction of the Spaniards, and at the end of a few days, during which the temperature was only indurable through the absence of wind, there was not a Galleon who could not skate tolerably well, while many of them could describe figures involving the most complicated curves. Nina and Pablo earned loud applause by their rapid proficiency. Captain Servodak, an adept in athletics, almost outvived his instructor, the Count, and Benzouf, who had upon some rare occasions skated upon the lake of Montmartre, in his eyes, of course, a sea, performed prodigies in the art. This exercise was not only helpful in itself, but it was acknowledged that, in case of necessity, it might become a very useful means of locomotion. As Captain Servodak remarked, it was almost a substitute for railways, and as if to illustrate this proposition, Lieutenant Prokope, perhaps the greatest expert in the party, distinguished the 20 miles to Gorby Island and back in considerably less than four hours. The temperature, meanwhile, continued to decrease, and the average reading of the thermometer was about 16 degrees F below zero. The light also diminished in proportion, and all objects appeared to be enveloped in a half-defined shadow, as though the sun were undergoing a perpetual eclipse. It was not surprising that the effect of this continuously overhanging gloom should be to induce a frequent depression of spirits amongst the majority of the little population, excels as they were from their mother earth, and not unlikely, as it seemed, to be swept far away into the regions of another planetary sphere. Probably Count Timoshev, Captain Servodak, and Lieutenant Prokope were the only members of the community who could bring any scientific judgment to bear upon the uncertainty that was before them, but a general sense of the strangeness of their situation could not fail at times to weigh heavily upon the minds of all. Under these circumstances it was very necessary to counteract the tendency to despond by continual diversion, and the recreation of skating thus opportunally provided seemed just the thing to arouse the flagging spirits, and to restore a wholesome excitement. With dogged obstinacy, Isaac Hacobut refused to take any share either in the labors or the amusements of the colony. In spite of the cold, he had not been seen since the day of his arrival from Gorby Island. Captain Servodak had strictly forbidden any communication with him, and the smoke that rose from the cabin chimney of the Hanse was the sole indication of the proprietor being still on board. There was nothing to prevent him, if he chose, from partaking gratuitously of the volcanic, light, and heat which were being enjoyed by all besides, but rather than abandon his close and personal oversight of his precious cargo, he preferred to sacrifice his own slender stock of fuel. Both the schooner and the tartan had been carefully moored in the way that seemed to promise best for withstanding the rigor of the winter. After seeing the vessels made secure in the frozen creek, Lieutenant Proculp, following the example of many arctic explorers, had the precaution to have the ice beveled away from the keels so that there should be no risk of the ship's sides being crushed by the increasing pressure. He hoped that they would follow any rise in the level of the ice field, and when the thaw should come, that they should easily regain their proper waterline. On his last visit to Gorby Island, the Lieutenant had ascertained that north, east, and west, far as the eye could reach, the Galleon Sea had become one uniform sheet of ice. One spot alone refused to freeze. This was the pool immediately below the central cavern, the receptacle for the stream of burning lava. It was entirely enclosed by rocks, and if ever a few icicles were formed there by the action of the cold, they were very soon melted by the fiery shower. Hissing and spluttering as the hot lava came into contact with it, the water was in a continual state of ebolition, and the fish that abounded in its depths defied the angler's craft. They were, as Benzof remarked, too much boiled to bite. At the beginning of April the weather changed. The sky became overcast, but there was no rise in the temperature. Unlike the polar winters of the Earth, which ordinarily are affected by atmospheric influence, and liable to slight intermissions of their severity at various shiftings of the wind, Galleon's winter was caused by her immense distance from the source of all light and heat, and the cold was consequently destined to go on steadily increasing until it reached the limit ascertained by Fourier to be the normal temperature of the realms of space. With the over-clotting of the heavens there arose a violent tempest. But although the wind raged with an almost inconceivable fury, it was unaccompanied by either snow or rain. Its effect upon the burning curtain that covered the aperture of the central hall was very remarkable. So far from there being any likelihood of the fire being extinguished by the vehemence of the current of air, the hurricane seemed rather to act as a ventilator, which fanned the flame into greater activity, and the utmost care was necessary to avoid being burnt by the fragments of lava that were drifting into the interior of the grotto. More than once the curtain itself was rifted entirely asunder, but only to close up again immediately after allowing the momentarily draft of cold air to penetrate the hall in a way that was refreshing and rather advantageous than otherwise. On the 4th of April, after an absence of about four days, the new satellite, to Benzov's great satisfaction, made its reappearance in a crescent form, a circumstance that seemed to justify the anticipation that henceforward it would continue to make a periodic revolution every fortnight. The crust of ice and snow was far too stout for the beaks of the strongest birds to penetrate, and accordingly large swarms had left the island, and, following the human population, had taken refuge on the volcanic promontory. Not that there the bear and shore had anything in the way of nourishment to offer them, but their instinct impelled them to haunt now the very habitations which formerly they would have shunned. Scraps of food were thrown to them from the galleries. These were speedily devoured, but were altogether inadequate in quantity to meet the demand. At length, emboldened by hunger, several hundred birds ventured through the tunnel and took up their quarters actually in Nina's hive. Congregating in the large hall, the half-famished creatures did not hesitate to snatch bread, meat, or food of any description from the hands of the residents as they sat at the table, and soon became such an intolerable nuisance that it formed one of the daily diversions to hunt them down. But although they were vigorously attacked by stones and sticks, and even occasionally by shot, it was with some difficulty that their number could be sensibly reduced. By a systematic course of warfare, the bulk of the birds were all expelled, and with the exception of about a hundred, which began to build in the crevices of the rocks, these were left in quiet possession of their quarters, as not only was it deemed advisable to perpetuate the various breeds, but it was found that these birds acted as a kind of police, never failing either to chase away or to kill any others of their species who infringed upon what they appeared to regard as their own special privilege in intruding within the limits of their domain. On the fifteenth, loud cries were suddenly heard issuing from the mouth of the principal gallery. Help! Help! I shall be killed! Pablo in a moment recognized the voice as Nina's. Outrunning even Benzouf, he hurried to the assistance of his little playmate, and discovered that she was being attacked by half a dozen great seagulls, and only after receiving some severe blows from their beaks could he succeed by means of a stout cudgel in driving them away. Tell me, Nina, what is this? He asked as soon as the tumult had subsided. The child pointed to a bird which she was caressing tenderly in her bosom. A pigeon, exclaimed Benzouf, who had reached the scene of commotion, adding, A carrier pigeon, and by all the saints of Montmartre, there is a little bag attached to its neck. He took the bird and rushing into the hall placed it in Servidaq's hands. Another message, no doubt, cried the captain, from our unknown friend. Let us hope that this time he has given us his name and address. All crowded round, eager to hear the news. In the struggle with the gulls, the bag had been partially torn open, but still contained the following dispatch. Galia, chemais pas qu'au de la Mars en le avril, 39 million l, distance du solile, 110 million l, copte naryne en peissant, vivre vont meurquer et the rest of the document had been so damaged by the beaks of the gulls that it was illegible. Servidaq was wild with vexation. He felt more and more convinced that the writer was a Frenchman and that the last line indicated that he was in distress from scarcity of food. The very thought of a fellow countryman in peril of starvation drove him well nigh to distraction, and it was in vain that search was made everywhere near the scene of the conflict in hopes of finding the missing scrap that might bear a signature or address. Suddenly little Nina, who had again taken possession of the pigeon and was hugging it to her breast, said, Look here, Benzouf, and as she spoke she pointed to the left wing of the bird. The wing bore the faint impress of a postage stamp and the one word, formantara. End of Book 1, Chapter 23. Book 1, Chapter 24 of Off on a Comet. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Off on a Comet by Jules Verne, translated by Anonymous. Book 1, Chapter 24, A Sledge Ride. Formantara was at once recognized by Servidak in the Count as the name of one of the smallest of the Balearic Islands. It was more than probable that the unknown writer had thence sent out the mysterious documents and from the message just come to hand by the carrier pigeon, it appeared all but certain that at the beginning of April, a fortnight back, he had still been there. In one important particular, the present communication differed from those that had preceded it. It was written entirely in French and exhibited none of the ecstatic exclamations in other languages that had been remarkable in the two former papers. The concluding line, with its intimation of feeling provisions, amounted almost to an appeal for help. Captain Servidak briefly drew attention to these points and concluded by saying, My friends, we must, without delay, pace into the assistance of this unfortunate man. For my part, said the Count, I am quite ready to accompany you. It is not unlikely that he is not alone in his distress. Lieutenant Procope expressed much surprise. We must have passed close to Formantera. He said, When we explored the site of the Bialaric Isles, this fragment must be very small. It must be smaller than the remaining splinter of Gibraltar or Theota. Otherwise, surely it would have never escaped our observation. However small it may be, replied Servidak, we must find it. How far off do you suppose it is? It must be 120 leagues away, said the Lieutenant, thoughtfully, and I do not quite understand how you would propose to get there. Why? On skates, of course. No difficulty in that, I should imagine, answered Servidak, and he appealed to the Count for confirmation of his opinion. The Count assented, but Procope looked doubtful. Your enterprise is generous, he said, and I should be most unwilling to throw any unnecessary obstacle in the way of its execution. But, pardon me, if I submit to you a few considerations which to my mind are very important. First of all, the thermometer is already down to 22 degrees below zero, and the keen wind from the south is making the temperature absolutely unendurable. In the second place, supposing you travel at a rate of 20 leagues a day, you would be exposed for at least six consecutive days. And thirdly, your expedition will be of small avail unless you convey provisions not only for yourselves, but for those whom you hope to relieve. We can carry our own provisions on our backs in knapsacks, in our posed Servidak, quickly, unwilling to recognize any difficulty in the way. Granted that you can, answered the Lieutenant, quietly, but where, on this level ice field, will you find shelter in your periods of rest? You must perish with cold. You will not have the chance of digging out ice huts like the Eskimo. As to the rest, said Servidak, we shall take none. We shall keep on our way continuously. By traveling day and night without intermission, we shall not be more than three days in reaching Formantera. Believe me, persisted the Lieutenant, calmly, your enthusiasm is carrying you too far. The feat you propose is impossible, but even conceding the possibility of your success in reaching your destination, what service do you imagine that you, half-starved and half-frozen yourself, could render to those who are already perishing by want and exposure? You would only bring them away to die. The obvious and dispassionate reasoning of the Lieutenant could not fail to impress the minds of those who listen to him. The impracticability of the journey became more and more apparent. Unprotected on that drear expanse, any traveler must assuredly succumb to the snowdrifts that were continually being whirled across it. But Hector Servidak, animated by the generous desire of rescuing a suffering fellow creature, could scarcely be brought within the bounds of common sense. Against his better judgment, he was still bent upon the expedition, and Ben Zuf declared himself ready to accompany his master in the event of Count Timishev hesitating to encounter the peril, which the undertaking involved. But the Count entirely repudiated all idea of shirking from what, quite as much as the captain, he regarded as a sacred duty, and turning to Lieutenant Prokope, told him that unless some better plan could be devised, he was prepared to start off at once and make the attempt to skate across deformant terra. The Lieutenant, who was lost in thought, made no immediate reply. I wish we had a sledge, said Ben Zuf. I dare say that a sledge of some sort could be contrived, said the Count. But then we should have no dogs or reindeer to draw it. Why not rough-shoe the two horses? They would never be able to endure the cold, objected the Count. Never mind, said Servidak. Let us get our sledge and put them to the test. Something must be done. I think, said Lieutenant Prokope, breaking his thoughtful silence, that I can tell you of a sledge already provided for your hand, and I can suggest a mode of power sure and swifter than horses. What do you mean, was the eager inquiry? I mean the dobernas y'all, answered the Lieutenant. I have no doubt that the wind would carry her rapidly along the ice. The idea seemed admirable. Lieutenant Prokope was well aware to what marvelous perfection the Americans had brought their sail sledges and had heard how in the vast prairies of the United States they had been known to outvi the speed of an express train, occasionally attaining the rate of more than a hundred miles an hour. The wind was still blowing hard from the south, and assuming that the y'all could be propelled with a velocity of about 15 or at least 12 leagues an hour, he reckoned that it was quite possible to reach Forman Terra within 12 hours, that is to say, in a single day between intervals of sunrise and sunset. The y'all was about 12 feet long and capable of holding five or six people. The addition of a couple of iron runners would be all that was requisite to convert it into an excellent sledge, which, if a sail were hoisted, might be deemed certain to make a rapid progress over the smooth surface of the ice. For the protection of the passengers, it was proposed to erect a kind of wooden roof lined with strong cloth. Beneath this could be packed a supply of provisions, some warm furs, some cordials, and a portable stove to be heated by spirits of wine. For the outward journey, the wind was as favorable as could be desired, but it was to be apprehended that, unless the direction of the wind should change, the return would be a matter of some difficulty. A system of tacking might be carried out to a certain degree, but it was not likely that the y'all would answer her helm in any way corresponding to what would occur in the open sea. Captain Servodak, however, would not listen to any representation of probable difficulties. The future, he said, must provide for itself. The engineer and several of the sailors set vigorously to work, and before the close of the day the y'all was furnished with a pair of stout iron runners, curved upwards in front, and fitted with a metal skull designed to assist in maintaining the directness of her course. The roof was put on, and underneath it restored the provisions, the wraps, and the cooking utensils. A strong desire was expressed by Lieutenant Prokope that he should be allowed to accompany Captain Servodak instead of Count Timischef. It was unadvisable for all three of them to go, as, in case of there being several persons to be rescued, the space at their command would be quite inadequate. The lieutenant urged that he was the most experienced seamen, and as such was best qualified to take command of the sledge and the management of the sails. And as it was not to be expected that Servodak would resign his intention of going in person to relieve his fellow countrymen, Prokope submitted his own wishes to the Count. The Count was himself very anxious to have his share in the philanthropic enterprise, and demurred considerably to the proposal. He yielded, however, after a time. To Servodak's representations that in the event of the expedition proving disastrous, the little colony would need his services alike as Governor and Protector, and overcoming his reluctance to be left out of the perilous adventure, was prevailed upon to remain behind for the general good of the community at Nina's Hive. At sunrise on the following morning, the 16th of April, Captain Servodak and the Lieutenant took their places in the yaw. The thermometer was more than 20 degrees below zero, and it was with deep emotion that their companions beheld them thus embarking upon the vast white plain. Ben Zuf's heart was too full for words. Count Timashev could not forebear pressing his two brave friends to his bosom. The Spaniards and the Russian sailors crowded round for a farewell shake of the hand, and little Nina, her great eyes flooded with tears, held up her face for a parting kiss. The sad scene was not permitted to be long. The sail was quickly hoisted, and the sledge, just as if it had expanded a huge white wing, was in a little while carried far away beyond the horizon. Light and unimpeded, the yaw scutted on with incredible speed. Two sails, a brigantine and a jib, were arranged to catch the wind to the greatest advantage, and the travelers estimated that their progress would be a little under the rate of 12 leagues an hour. The motion of their novel vehicle was singularly gentle, the oscillation being less than that of an ordinary railway carriage, while the diminished force of gravity contributed to the swiftness. Except that the clouds of ice dust raised by the metal runners were an evidence that they had not actually left the level surface of the ice, the captain and the lieutenant might again and again have imagined that they were being conveyed through the air in a balloon. Lieutenant Procope, with his head all muffled up for fear of frostbite, took an occasional peat through an aperture that had been intentionally left in the roof, and by the help of a compass maintained a proper and straight course for Forman Terra. Nothing could be more dejected than that aspect of that frozen sea. Not a single living creature relieved the solitude. Both the travelers, Procope from a scientific point of view, Servidac from an aesthetic, were alike impressed by the solemnity of the scene, and where the length and shadow of the sail cast upon the ice by the oblique rays of the setting sun had disappeared and day had given place to night. The two men, drawn together as by an involuntary impulse, mutually held each other's hands in silence. There had been a new moon on the previous evening, but in the absence of moonlight, the constellations shone with remarkable brilliancy. The new pole star close upon the horizon was resplendent, and even had Lieutenant Procope in destitute of a compass, he would have had no difficulty in holding his course by the guidance of that alone. However great was the distance that separated Galia from the sun, it was after all manifestly insignificant in comparison with the remoteness of the nearest of the fixed stars. Observing that Servidac was completely absorbed in his own thoughts, Lieutenant Procope had leisure to contemplate some of the present perplexing problems, and to ponder over the true astronomical position. The last of the three mysterious documents had represented that Galia, in conformity with Kepler's second law, had traveled along her orbit during the month of March 20 millions of leagues less than she had done in the previous month. Yet, in the same time, her distance from the sun had nevertheless been increased by 32 millions of leagues. She was now, therefore, in the center of the zone of telescopic planets that revolved between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter, and had captured for herself a satellite which, according to the document, was Nirina, one of the asteroids most recently identified. If thus, then, it was within the power of the unknown writer to estimate with such apparent certainty Galia's exact position, was it not likely that his mathematical calculations would enable him to arrive at some definite conclusion as to the date at which she would begin to approach the sun? Nay, it was not to be expected that he had already estimated, with sufficient approximation to truth, what was to be the true length of the Gallean year. So intently had they each separately been following their own train of thought, that daylight reappeared almost before the travelers were aware of it. On consulting their instruments, they found that they must have traveled close upon 100 leagues since they started, and they resolved to slacken their speed. The sails were accordingly taken in a little, and in spite of the intensity of the cold, the explorers ventured out of their shelter in order that they might reconnoiter the plane, which was apparently as boundless as ever. It was completely desert, not so much as a single point of rock relieved the bare uniformity of its surface. Are we not considerably to the west of Formanterra? asked Servidac, after examining the chart. Most likely, replied Procope, I have taken the same course as I should have done at sea, and I have kept some distance to the windward of the island. We can bear straight down upon it whenever we like. Bear down then, now, and as quickly as you can. The yaw was at once put with her head to the northeast, and Captain Servidac, in defiance of the icy blast, remained standing at the bow, his gaze fixed on the horizon. All at once his eye brightened. Look, look! he exclaimed, pointing to a faint outline that broke the monotony of the circle that divided the plane from the sky. In an instant the lieutenant had seized his telescope. I see what you mean, said he. It is a pylon that has been used for some geodesic survey. The next moment the sail was filled, and the yaw was bearing down upon the object with inconceivable swiftness, both Captain Servidac and the lieutenant too excited to utter a word. Mile after mile the distance rapidly grew less, and as they drew nearer the pylon they could see that it was erected on a low mass of rocks that was the sole interruption to the dull level of the field of ice. No wreath of smoke rose above the little island. It was manifestly impossible, they conceived, that any human being could there have survived the cold. The sad presentiment forced itself upon their minds that it was a mere cairn to which they had been hurrying. Ten minutes later, and they were so near the rock that the lieutenant took in his sail, convinced that the impetus already attained would be sufficient to carry him to the land. Servidac's heart bounded as he caught sight of a fragment of blue canvas fluttering in the wind from the top of the pylon. It was all that now remained of the French national standard. At the foot of the pylon stood a miserable shed, its shutters tightly closed. No other habitation was to be seen. The entire island was less than a quarter of a mile in circumference, and the conclusion was irresistible that it was the sole surviving remnant of Formantera, once a member of the Balearic archipelago. To leap on shore, to clamber over the slippery stones, and to reach the cabin was but the work of a few moments. The warm-eaten door was bolted on the inside. Servidac began to knock with all his might. No answer. Neither shouting nor knocking could draw forth a reply. Let us force it open, procope, he said. The two men put their shoulders to the door, which soon yielded to their vigorous efforts, and they found themselves inside the shed, and in almost total darkness. By opening a shutter they admitted what daylight they could. At first sight the wretched place seemed to be deserted. The little great contained the ashes of a fire long since extinguished. All looked black and desolate. Another instance investigation, however, revealed a bed in the extreme corner and extended on the bed a human form. Dead, sighed Servidac, dead of cold and hunger. Lieutenant Procope bent down and anxiously contemplated the body. No, he is alive, he said, and drawing a small flask from his pocket he poured a few drops of brandy between the lips of the senseless man. There was a faint sigh, followed by a feeble voice, which uttered the one word, Galia? Yes, yes, Galia, echoed Servidac, eagerly. My comment, my comment, said the voice, so low as to be almost inaudible, and the unfortunate man relapsed again into unconsciousness. Where have I seen this man, thought Servidac to himself? His face is strangely familiar to me. But it was no time for deliberation. Not a moment was to be lost in getting the unconscious astronomer away from his desolate quarters. He was soon conveyed to the all, his books, his scanty wardrobe, his papers, his instruments, and the blackboard which had served for his calculations were quickly collected. The wind, by a fortuitous providence, had shifted into a favorable quarter. They set their sail with all speed, and air long were on their journey back from Formanterra. Thirty-six hours later, the brave travelers were greeted by the acclamations of their fellow colonists, who had been most anxiously awaiting their reappearance, and the still senseless savante, who had neither opened his eyes nor spoken a word throughout the journey, was safely deposited into warmth and security of the great hall of Nina's hive. By the return to the expedition, conveying its contribution from Formanterra, the known population of Gallia was raised to a total of thirty-six. On learning the details of his friend's discoveries, Count Timoshev did not hesitate in believing that the exhausted individual who was lying before him was the author alike of the two unsigned documents picked up at sea, and of the third statements recently brought to hand by Carrier Pigeon. Manifestly, he had arrived at some knowledge of Gallia's movements. He had estimated her distance from the sun. He had calculated the diminution of her tangential speed. But there was nothing to show that he had arrived at the conclusion which were of the most paramount interest to them all. Had he ascertained the true characteristic of her orbit, had he established any data, from which it would be possible to reckon what time must elapse before she would again approach the earth? The only intelligible words which the astronomer had uttered had been, my comet, to what could the exclamation refer? Was it to be conjectured that a fragment of the earth had been chipped off by the collision of a comet? And if so, was it implied that the same of the comet itself was Gallia, and were they mistaken in supposing that such was the name given by this savant to the little world that had been so suddenly launched into space? Again and again they discussed these questions, but no satisfactory answer could be found. The only man who was able to throw any light upon the subject was lying amongst them in an unconscious and half-dying condition. Apart from motives of humanity, motives of self-interest made it a matter of the deepest concern to restore animation to that senseless form. Ben Zoof, after making the encouragement remark that savants have as many lives as a cat, proceeded with Negrete's assistance to give the body such a vigorous rubbing as would have threatened serious injury to an ordinary mortal, whilst they administered cordials and restoratives from the Dobb Maria's medical stores powerful enough one might think to rouse the very dead. Meanwhile the captain was racking his brain in exertions, to recall what were the circumstances of his previous acquaintance with the Frenchman upon whose features he was gazing. He only grew more and more convinced that he had once been familiar with them. Perhaps it was not altogether surprising that he had almost forgotten him. He had never seen him since the days of his youth. That time of life, which, with a certain show of justice, has been termed the age of ingratitude. For, in point of fact, the astronomer was none other than Professor Palmarin Rosette, Servidaq's old science master at the Lycee Charlemagne. After completing his year of elementary study, Hector Servidaq had entered the school at St. Cyr, and from that time he and his former tutor had never met, so that naturally they would well nigh pass from each other's recollection. One thing, however, on the other hand, might conduce to a mutual and permanent impression on their memories. During the year at the Lycee, young Servidaq, never of a very studious turn of mind, had contrived as the ringleader of a set of light calibre, as himself, to lead the poor Professor a life of perpetual torment. On the discovery of each delinquency, he would fume and rage in a manner that was a source of unbounded delight to his audience. Two years after Servidaq left the Lycee, Professor Rosette had thrown up all educational employment in order that he might devote himself entirely to the study of astronomy. He endeavored to obtain a post at the observatory, but his ungenial character was so well known in some scientific circles that he failed in his application. However, having some small private means, he determined on his own account to carry on his researches without any official salary. He had really considerably genius for the science that he had adopted. Besides discovering three of the latest of the telescopic planets, he had worked out the elements of the 325th comet in the catalogue, but his chief delight was to criticize the publications of other astronomers, and he was never better pleased than when he detected a flaw in their reckonings. When Ben Zoof and the Gretae had extricated their patient from the envelope of furs in which he had been wrapped by Servidaq and the lieutenant, they found themselves face-to-face with a shriveled little man, about five feet two inches high, with a round bald head, smooth and shiny as an ostrich egg. No beard, unless the unshorn growth of a week, could be so described. And a long-hooked nose that supported a huge pair of spectacles, such as with many nearsighted people, seems to have become a part of their individuality. His nervous system was remarkably developed, and his body might not in aptly be compared to one of the Ruhmkopf's bobbins of which the thread several hundred yards in length is permeated throughout by electric fluid, but whatever he was his life, if possible, must be preserved. When he had been partially divested of his clothing, his heart was found to be still beating, although very feebly, asserting that while there was life there was hope Ben Zoof recommenced his friction with more vigor than ever. When the rubbing had been continued without a moment's intermission for the best part of half an hour, the astronomer heaved a faint sigh which ere long was followed by another and another. He half opened his eyes, closed them again, then opened them completely, but without exhibiting any consciousness whatever to have a situation. A few words seemed to escape his lips, but they were quite unintelligible. Presently he raised his right hand to his forehead as though instinctively feeling for something that was missing. Then all of a sudden his features became contracted, his face flushed with apparent irritation, and he exclaimed fretfully, My spectacles! Where are my spectacles? In order to facilitate his operations, Ben Zoof had removed the spectacles, in spite of the tenacity with which they seemed to adhere to the temples of his patient. But he now rapidly brought them back and readjusted them as best he could to what seemed to be their natural position on the aquiline nose. The professor heaved a long sigh of relief, and once more closed his eyes. Before long the astronomer roused himself a little more, glanced inquiringly about him, but soon relapsed into his comatose condition. When next he opened his eyes, Captain Servidak happened to be bending down closely over him, examining his features with curious scrutiny. The old man darted an angry look at him through the spectacles and said sharply, Servidak, five hundred lines, tomorrow! It was an echo of the days of old. The words were few, but they were enough to recall the identity which Servidak was trying to make out. Is it possible, he exclaimed? Here is my old tutor, Mr. Rosette, in very flesh and blood. Can't say much for the flesh, muttered Ben Zoof. The old man had fallen back into a torpid slumber. Ben Zoof continued. His sleep is getting more composed. Let him alone. He will come around yet. Haven't I heard of men more dried up than he is, being brought all the way from Egypt in cases covered with pictures? You idiot! Those were mummies. They had been dead for ages. Ben Zoof did not answer a word. He went on preparing a warm bed, into which he managed to remove his patient, who soon fell into a calm and natural sleep. Too impatient to await the awakening of the astronomer and to hear what representation he had to make, Servidak, the Count, and the Lieutenant, constituting themselves what might be designated the Academy of Sciences of the Colony, spent the whole of the remainder of the day in starting and discussing the wildest conjectures about their situation. The hypothesis to which they had now accustomed themselves for so long that a new asteroid had been formed by a fracture of the Earth's surface seemed to fall to the ground when they found that Professor Palmarin Rosette had associated the name Gallia, not with their present home, but with what he called my comet, and that theory being abandoned they were driven to make the most improbable speculations to replace it. Alluding to Rosette, Servidak took care to inform his companions that although the Professor was always eccentric and at times very irascible, yet he was really exceedingly good-hearted, his bark was worse than his bite, and if suffered to take their course without observation his outbreaks of ill-temper seldom lasted long. We will certainly do our best to get on with him, said the Count. He is no doubt the author of the papers, and we must hope that he will be able to give us some valuable information. Beyond a question the documents have originated with him, assented Lieutenant. Gallia was the word written at the top of every one of them, and Gallia was the first word uttered by him in our hearing. The astronomer slept on. Meanwhile the three had no hesitation in examining his papers, and scrutinizing the figures on his extemporized blackboard. The handwriting corresponded with that of the papers already received. The blackboard was covered with algebraic symbols traced in chalk, which they were careful not to obliterate. And the papers, which consisted for the most part of detached scraps, presented a perfect wilderness of geometrical figures, conic sections of every variety being repeated in countless profusion. Lieutenant Procope pointed out that these curves evidently had reference to the orbits of comets, which are variously parabolic, hyperbolic, or elliptic. If either of the first two, the comet after once appearing within the range of terrestrial vision would vanish forever in the outlying regions of space, if the last it would for sure sooner or later, after some periodic interval, to return. From the prima facie appearance of his papers then, it seemed probable that the astronomer during his sojourn at Forman Terra had been devoting himself to the study of cometary orbits. And as the calculations of this kind were ordinarily based upon the assumption that the orbit is a parabola, it was not unlikely that he had been endeavoring to trace the path of some particular comet. I wonder whether these calculations were made before or after the first of January. It makes all the difference, said Lieutenant Procope. We must bide our time and hear, replied the Count. Servidac paced relentlessly up and down. I would give a month of my life, he cried impetuously, for every hour that the old fellow goes sleeping on. You might be making a bad bargain, said Procope, smiling. Perhaps, after all, the comet has nothing to do with the convulsions that we have experienced. Nonsense, exclaimed the captain. I know better than that, and so do you. Is it not as clear as daylight that the earth and this comet have been in collision? And the result has been that our little world has been split off and sent flying far into space. Count Temeshev and the Lieutenant looked at each other in silence. I do not deny your theory, said Procope, after a while. If it be correct, I suppose we must conclude that the enormous disk we observed on the night of the catastrophe was the comet itself, and the velocity with which it was traveling must have been so great that it was hardly arrested at all by the attraction of the earth. Plausible enough, answered Count Temeshev, and it is to this comet that our scientific friend here has given the name Galea. It still remained a puzzle to them why the astronomer should apparently be interested in the comet so much more than in the new little world in which their strange lot was cast. Can you explain this, asked the count? There is no accounting for the freaks of philosophers, you know, said Servedec. And have I not told you that this philosopher in particular is one of the most eccentric beings in creation? Besides that of the Lieutenant, it is exceedingly likely that his observations have been going on for some considerable period before the convulsions happened. Thus the general conclusion arrived at by the Galean Academy of Science was this, that on the night of the 31st of December a comet crossing the elliptic had come into collision with the earth, and that the violence of the shock had separated a huge fragment from the globe. Which fragment from that date had been traversing the remote interplanetary regions? Palmer and Rosette would doubtless confirm their solution of the phenomenon. End of Book 2, Chapter 1 Chapter 2 A Revelation To the general population of the colony, the arrival of the stranger was a matter of small interest. The Spaniards were naturally too idyllant to be affected in any way by an incident that concerned themselves so remotely, while the Russians felt themselves simply reliant on their master. And as long as they were with him, were careless as to where or how they spent their days. Everything went on with them in an accustomed routine, and they lay down night after night, and awoke to their applications morning after morning, just as if nothing extraordinary had happened. All night long Ben Zoof would not leave the Professor's bedside. He had constituted himself sick nurse, and considered his reputation at stake if he failed to set his patience on his feet again. He watched every movement, listened to every breath, and never failed to administer the strongest cordials upon the slightest pretext. Even in his sleep Rosette's irritable nature revealed itself. Ever and again, sometimes in a tone of uneasiness, and sometimes with the expression of positive anger, the name of Galia escaped his lips, as though he were dreaming that his claim to the discovery of the comet was being contested or denied. But although his attendant was on the alert to gather all he could, he was able to catch nothing in the incoherent sentences that served to throw any real light upon the problem that they were all eager to solve. When the sun reappeared on the western horizon, the Professor was still sound asleep, and Ben Zoof, who was especially anxious that the repose which promised to be so beneficial should not be disturbed, felt considerable annoyance at hearing the loud knocking, evidently of some blunt heavy instrument against a door that had been placed at the entrance of the gallery, more for the purpose of retaining internal warmth than for guarding against intrusion from without. Confound it, said Ben Zoof, I must put a stop to this, and he made his way towards the door. Who's there? he cried in no very amiable tone. I replied the quavering voice. Who are you? Isaac Hackerbutt. Let me in, do please, let me in. Oh, it's you old Ashtaroth, is it? What do you want? Can't you get anybody to buy your stuffs? Nobody will pay me a proper price. Well old Chimmy, you won't find a customer here, you would better be off. No, but do please, do please let me in, supplicated the Jew. I want to speak to his eclancy, the governor. The governor is in bed and asleep. I can wait until he wakes, then wait where you are. And with this inhospitable rejoinder, the orderly was about to return to his place at the side of his patient when Cerverduck, who had been roused by the sound of voices called out. What's the matter Ben Zoof? Oh nothing sir, only that hound of a Hackerbutt says he wants to speak to you. Let him in then. Ben Zoof hesitated. Let him in I say, repeated the captain, peremptorily. However reluctantly Ben Zoof obeyed. The door was unfastened and Isaac Hackerbutt enveloped in an old overcoat shuffled into the gallery. In a few moments Cerverduck approached and the Jew began to overwhelm him with the most obsequious epitaph. Without vouchsafing any reply the captain beckoned to the old man to follow him. And leading the way to the central hall stopped and turning so as to look him steadily in the face said, now is your opportunity, tell me what you want. Oh my lord, my lord, willing Isaac, you must have some news to tell me. News? What do you mean? From my little taht in yonder. I saw the yule go out from the rock here on a journey and I saw it come back and it brought a stranger and I thought, I thought, I thought, well you thought, what did you think? Why, that perhaps the stranger had come from the northern shores of the Mediterranean and that I might ask him. He paused again and gave a glance at the captain. Ask him what? Speak out, man. Ask him if he brings any tidings of Europe's. Hacker but blurted out at last. Cerverduck shrugged his shoulders and contempt and turned away. Here was a man who had been resident three months in Galilee, a living witness of all the abnormal phenomena that had occurred and yet refusing to believe that his hope of making good bargains with European traders was at an end. Surely nothing, thought the captain, will convince the older askable now, and he moved off in disgust. The orderly however, who had listened with much amusement, was by no means disinclined for the conversation to be continued. Are you satisfied, old Ezekiel? he asked. Isn't it so? Am I not right? Didn't a stranger arrive here last night? Inquired the Jew? Yes, quite true. Where from? From the Beliric Isles. The Beliric Isles? Echoed Isaac? Yes. Fine quarters for trade, hardly twenty leagues from Spain. He must have brought news from Europe. Well, old Manhash, what if he has? I should like to see him. Can't be. The Jew sidled close up to Benzouf, and laying his hand on his arm, said in a low and insinuating tone, I am poor, you know, but I would give you a few reels if you would let me talk to this stranger. But as if he thought he was making too liberal an offer, he added, Oh, it must be at once. He is too tired, he is worn out, he is fast asleep, answered Benzouf. But I would pay you to wake him. The captain had overheard the tenor of the conversation, and interposed sternly, Hakkabut, if you make the least attempt to disturb our visitor, I shall have you turned outside that door immediately. No offence, my lord, I hope, stammered out the Jew. I owe only men. Silence, shouty Servidak, the old man hung his head abashed. I will tell you what, said Servidak, after a brief interval. I will give you leave to hear what this stranger has to tell, as soon as he is able to tell us anything. At present we have not heard a word from his lips. The Jew looked perplexed. Yes, said Servidak. When we hear his story, you shall hear it too. And I hope it will be to your liking, old Ezekiel, added Benzouf in a voice of irony. They had none of them long to wait, for within a few minutes, where Zert's peevish voice was heard calling, Joseph? Joseph? The professor did not open his eyes, and appeared to be slumbering on, but very shortly afterwards called out again, Joseph, confounder fellow, where is he? It was evident that he was half-dreaming, about to form a servant, now far away on the ancient globe. Where's my blackboard, Joseph? Quite safe, sir, answered Benzouf quickly, who is there, unclosed, his eyes, and fixed them full upon the orderly's face. Are you, Joseph? he asked. At your service, sir, replied Benzouf, with imperturbable gravity. Then get me my coffee, and be quick about it. Benzouf left to go into the kitchen, and Servidak approached the professor, in order to assist him in rising to a sitting posture. Do you recognise your quantum pupil, professor? he asked. Ah, yes, yes, you are Servidak, said Rosé. It is twelve years or more since I saw you, I hope you have improved. Quite a reformed character, sir, I assure you, said Servidak, smiling. Well, that's as it should be, that's right, said the astronomer, with fussy importance. But let me have my coffee, he added impatiently. I cannot collect my thoughts without my coffee. Fortunately, Benzouf appeared with a great cup, hot and strong. After draining it with much apparent relish, the professor got out of bed, walked into the common hall, round which he glanced with the preoccupied air, and proceeded to seat himself in an armchair, the most comfortable which the cabin of the de Brânia had supplied. Then in a voice full of satisfaction, and that involuntarily record the exclamations of delight, that had wound up the two first of the mysterious documents that had been received, he burst out, Well, gentlemen, what do you think of Galiah? There was no time for anyone to make a reply before Isaac Hakobah had darted toward, By the God! Who is that? asked the starter professor, and he frowned and made a gesture of repugnance. Regardless of the efforts that were made to silence him, the Jew continued, By the gods of Abraham, I beseech you, give me some tidings of Europe. Europe! shouted the professor, springing from his seat as if he were electrified. What does the man want with Europe? I want to get there, screeched the Jew, and in spite of every exertion to get him away, he clung most tenaciously to the professor's chair, and again and again implored for news of Europe. Reset made no immediate reply. After a moment or two's reflection, he turned to Servedak and asked him whether it was not the middle of April. It is the twentieth, answered the captain. Then today, said the astronomer, speaking with the greatest deliberation, today we are just three millions of leagues away from Europe. The Jew was utterly crestfallen. You seem here, continued the professor, to be very ignorant of the state of things. How far are we ignorant, rejoined Servedak? I cannot tell, but I will tell you all that we do know, and all that we have surmised. And as briefly as he could, he related all that had happened since the memorable night of the 31st of December, how they had experienced the shock, how the Dabranja had made her voyage, how they had discovered nothing except the fragments of the old continent at Tunis, Sardinia, Gibraltar, and now at Formatira, how at intervals the three anonymous documents had been received, and finally, how the settlement at Gorba Island had been abandoned for their present quarters at Nina's Hive. The astronomer had hardly patient here until the end. And what do you say is your surmise as to your present position? He asked. Our supposition, the captain replied, is this. We imagine that we are on a considerable fragment of the terrestrial globe that has been detached by collision with the planet, to which you appear to have given the name of Galiya. Better than that, cried Rosette, starting to his feet with excitement. How? Why? What do you mean? cried the voices of the listeners. You are correct to a certain degree, continued the professor. It is quite true that at 47 and 35.6 degrees after two o'clock on the morning of the 1st of January, there was a collision. My comet grazed the earth, and the bits of the earth which you have named were carried clean away. They were all fairly bewildered. Where then? cried served Achigli. Where are we? You are on my comet, on Galiya itself. And the professor gazed around him with a perfect air of triumph. End of Book Two, Chapter Two, A Revelation. Yes, my comet, repeated the professor, and from time to time he knitted his brows and looked around him with a defiant air, as though he could not get rid of the impression that someone was laying an unwarranted claim to its proprietorship, or that the individuals before him were intruders upon his own proper domain. But for a considerable while, Servidak, the count, and the lieutenant remained silent and sunk in thought. Here then, at last, was the unriddling of the enigma they had been so long endeavoring to solve. Both the hypotheses they had formed in succession had now to give way before the announcement of the real truth. The first supposition that the rotatory axis of the Earth had been subject to some accidental modification, and the conjecture that replaced it, namely, that a certain portion of the terrestrial sphere had been splintered off and carried into space, had both now to yield to the representation that the Earth had been grazed by an unknown comet, which had caught up some of the scattered fragments from its surface, and was bearing them far away into sidereal regions, unfolded lay the past and the present before them, but this only served to awaken a keener interest about the future. Could the professor throw any light upon that? They longed to inquire, but did not yet venture to ask him. Meanwhile, Rosette assumed a pompous professional air and appeared to be waiting for the entire party to be ceremoniously introduced to him. Nothing unwilling to humor the vanity of the eccentric little man, Servedec proceeded to go through the expected formalities. Allow me to present to you my excellent friend, Count Tommieshev, he said. You are very welcome, said Rosette, bowing to the count with a smile of condescension. Although I am not precisely a voluntary resident on your comet, Mr. Professor, I beg to acknowledge your courteous reception, gravely responded Tommieshev. Servedec could not quite conceal his amusement at the Count's irony, but continued, this is Lieutenant Procope, the officer in command of the Dobbneria, the professor bowed again in frigid dignity. His yacht has conveyed us right around Gallia, added the captain. Round Gallia, eagerly exclaimed the professor. Yes, entirely rounded, answered Servedec, and without allowing time for reply, proceeded, and this is my orderly Benzouf. Aid to camp to his excellency the Governor of Gallia, interposed Benzouf himself, anxious to maintain his master's honor, as well as his own. Rosette scarcely bent his head. The rest of the population of the hive were all presented in succession. The Russian soldiers, the Spaniard, young Pablo, little Nina, on whom the professor evidently no lover of children glared fiercely through his formidable spectacles. Isaac Hacabut, after his introduction, begged to be allowed to ask one question. How soon may we hope to get back, he inquired. Get back! rejoined Rosette scarcely. Who talks of getting back? We have hardly started yet. Seeing that the professor was inclined to get angry, Captain Servedec adroitly gave a new turn to the conversation by asking him whether he would gratify them by relating his own recent experiences. The astronomer seemed pleased with the proposal, and at once commenced a verbose and somewhat circumlocatory address of which the following summary presents the main features. The French government, being desirous of verifying the measurement already made of the Ark of the Meridian of Paris, pointed a scientific commission for that purpose. From that commission the name of Palmarin Rosette was omitted, apparently for no other reason than his personal unpopularity. Furious at the slight, the professor resolved to set to work independently on his own account. Then declaring that there were inaccuracies in the previous geodesic operations, he determined to re-examine the results of the last triangulation which had united Formantera to the Spanish coast by a triangle, one of the sides of which majored over a hundred miles, the very operation which had already been so successfully accomplished by Aragó and Bo. Accordingly, leaving Paris for the Balearic Isles, he placed his observatory on the highest point of Formantera, and accompanied as he was only by his servant Joseph, led the life of a recluse. He secured the services of a former assistant, dispatched him to a high peak on the coast of Spain, where he had to superintend a reverberator, which with the aid of a glass could be seen from Formantera. A few books and instruments and two-months victuals was all the baggage he took with him, except an excellent astronomical telescope, which was indeed almost part and parcel of himself, and with which he assiduously scanned the heavens in the sanguine anticipation of making some discovery which would immortalize his name. The task he had undertaken demanded the utmost patience. Night after night, in order to fix the apex of his triangle, he had to linger on the watch for the assistant's signal light, but he did not forget that his predecessors, Aragó and Bo, had to wait sixty-one days for a similar purpose. What retarded the work was the dense fog, which it has already been mentioned, at the time enveloped not only that part of Europe, but almost the entire world. Never failing to turn to the best advantage, the few intervals, when the mist lifted a little, the astronomer would at the same time cast an inquiring glance at the firmament, as he was greatly interested in the revision of the chart of the heavens in the region contiguous to the constellation Gemini. To the naked eye, this constellation consists of only six stars, but through a telescope ten inches in diameter, as many as six thousand are visible. Rosette, however, did not possess a reflector of this magnitude, and was obliged to content himself with the good, but comparatively small instrument he had. On one of these occasions, whilst gauging the recess of Gemini, he aspired a bright speck which was unregistered in the chart, and which at first he took for a small star that had escaped being entered in the catalog. But the observation of a few separate nights soon made it manifest that the star was rapidly changing its position with regard to the adjacent stars, and the astronomer's heart began to leap at the thought that the renown of the discovery of a new planet would be associated with his name. Redoubling his attention, he soon satisfied himself that what he saw was not a planet. The rapidity of its displacement rather forced him into the conjecture that it must be a comet, and this opinion was soon strengthened by the appearance of a coma, and subsequently confirmed as the body approached the sun by the development of a tail. A comet! The discovery was fatal to all further progression in the triangulation. However, conscientiously, the assistant on the Spanish coast might look to the kindling of the beacon. Rosette had no glances to spare for that direction. He had no eyes except for the one object of his notice, no thoughts apart from that one quarter of the firmament. A comet! No time to be lost in calculating its elements. Now, in order to calculate the elements of a comet, it has always deemed the safest mode of procedure to assume that the orbit to be a parabola. Ordinarily, comets are conspicuous at their perihelia, as being their shortest distance from the sun, which is the focus of their orbit. And in as much as a parabola is but an ellipse with its axes indefinitely produced, for some short portion of its pathway, the orbit may be indifferently considered either one or the other, but in this particular case the professor was right in adopting the supposition of it being parabolic. Just as in a circle it is necessary to know three points to determine the circumference, so in ascertaining the elements of a comet, three different positions must be observed before what astronomers call its ephemeris can be established. But Professor Rosette did not content himself with three positions, taking advantage of every rift in the fog he made 10, 20, 30 observations, both in right ascension and its declination, and succeeded in working out with the most minute accuracy the five elements of the comet, which was evidently advancing with astounding rapidity towards the earth. These elements were, number one, the inclination of the plane of the commentary orbit to the plane of the elliptic and angle which is generally a considerable, but in this case the planes proved to coincide. Number two, the position of the ascending node or the point where the comet crossed the terrestrial orbit. These two elements being obtained, the position in space of the comet's orbit was determined. Number three, the direction of the axis major of the orbit which was found by calculating the longitude of the comet's perihelion. Number four, the perihelion distance from the sun which settled the precise form of the parabola. And number five, the motion of the comet as being retrograde or unlike planets from east to west. Rosette thus found himself able to calculate the date at which the comet would reach its perihelion and overjoyed at his discovery without thinking of calling it Palmyria or Rosette after its own name, he resolved that it should be known as Galea. His next business was to draw up a formal report. Not only did he once recognize that a collision with the earth was possible, but he soon foresaw that it was inevitable and that it must happen on the night of the 31st of December. Moreover, as the bodies were moving in opposite directions, the shock could hardly fail to be violent. To say that he was elated at the prospect was far below the truth. His delight amounted almost to delirium. Anyone else would have hurried from the solitude of Formanteria in sheer fright, but without communicating a word of his startling discovery, he remained resolutely at his post. From occasional newspapers which he had received, he had learnt that the fogs, dense as ever, continued to envelop both hemispheres, so that he was assured that the existence of the comet was utterly unknown elsewhere, and the ignorance of the world to the peril that threatened it averted the panic that would have followed the publication of the facts, and left the philosopher of Formanteria in sole possession of a great secret. He clung to his post with the greater persistency because his calculations had led him to the conclusion that the comet would strike the earth somewhere to the south of Algeria, and as it had a solid nucleus he felt sure as he expressed it the effect would be unique, and he was anxious to be in the vicinity. The shock came, and with it the results already recorded. Palmer and Rosette were suddenly separated from his servant Joseph, and when, after a long period of unconsciousness, he came to himself, he found that he was the solitary occupant of the only fragment that survived the bellaric archipelago. Such was the substance of the narrative which the professor gave, with sundry repetitions and digressions while he was giving it. He frequently paused and frowned as if irritated in a way that seemed by no means justified by the patient and good humor demeanor of his audience. But now, gentlemen, added the professor, I must tell you something more. Important changes have resulted from the collision. The cardinal points have been displaced, gravity has been diminished, not that I ever supposed for a minute as you did, that I was still upon the earth. No, the earth, attended by her moon, continued to rotate along her proper orbit. But we, gentlemen, have nothing to complain of. Our destiny might have been far worse. We might all have been crushed to death, or the comet might have remained in adhesion to the earth, and in neither of these cases would we have had the satisfaction of making this marvelous excursion through the untroversed solar regions. No, gentlemen, I repeat it, we have nothing to regret. As the professor spoke, he seemed to kindle with the emotion of such supreme contentment that no one had the heart to gain, say, his assertion. Benzouf alone ventured an unlucky remark to the effect that if the comet had happened to strike anywhere against Monmart instead of a bit of Africa, it would have met with some resistance. Said Rosette disdainfully, a molehill like Monmart would have been ground to powder in a moment. Molehill, exclaimed Benzouf, stung to the quick. I can tell you it would have caught up your bit of a comet, worn it like a feather in its cap. The professor looked angry, and Servedec, having imposed silence upon his orderly, explained the worthy soldier's sensitiveness on all that concern Monmart. Always obedient to his master, Benzouf held his tongue, but he felt that he could never forgive the slight that had been cast upon his beloved home. It was now all-important to learn whether the astronomer had been able to continue his observations, and whether he had learned sufficient of Gallia's path through space to make him competent to determine, at least approximately, the period of its revolution around the sun. With as much tact and caution as he could, Lieutenant Procope endeavored to intimate the general desire for some information on this point. Before the shock, sir, answered the professor, I had conclusively demonstrated the path of the comet. But in consequence of the modifications which that shock has entailed upon my comet's orbit, I have been compelled entirely to recommence my calculations. The Lieutenant looked disappointed. Although the orbit of the Earth was unaltered, continued the professor. The result of the collision was the projection of the comet into a new orbit altogether. And may I ask, said Procope, and differentially, whether you have got the elements of the fresh orbit? Yes. Then perhaps you know. I know this, sir, that at forty-seven minutes, thirty-five point six seconds after two o'clock on the morning of the first of January last, Gallia, in passing its ascending node, came in contact with the Earth, and that on the tenth of January it crossed the orbit of Venus, that it reached its perihelion on the fifteenth, that it recrossed the orbit of Venus, that on the first of February it passed its descending node on the thirteenth, crossed the orbit of Mars, entered the zone of the telescopic planets on the tenth of March, and attracting Nernia carried it off as a satellite. Servidak interposed. With well-nigh all these extraordinary facts, many of them, moreover, we have learned from documents which we have picked up, and which, although unsigned, we cannot entertain a doubt have originated with you. Professor Rosette drew himself up proudly and said, of course, they originated with me. I send them off by hundreds. From whom else should they come? From no one but yourself certainly rejoined the count with a grave politeness. Hitherto the conversation had thrown no light upon the future movements of Gallia, and Rosette was disposed apparently to evade, or at least to postpone, the subject. When, therefore, the Leucanate Procope was about to press his inquiries with a more categorical form, Servidak, thinking it advisable not prematurely to press the little savant too far, interrupted him by asking the professor how he accounted for the earth having suffered so little from such a formidable concussion. I account for it in this way, answered Rosette. The earth was traveling at the rate of twenty-eight thousand leagues an hour, and Gallia at the rate of fifty-seven thousand leagues an hour. Therefore the result was the same as though a train rushing along at a speed of about eighty-six thousand leagues an hour had suddenly encountered some obstacle. The nucleus of the comet, being excessively hard, had done exactly what a ball would do fired with that velocity close to a pane of glass. It has crossed the earth without cracking it. It is possible you may be right, said Servidak thoughtfully. Right? Of course I am right, replied the snappish professor. Soon, however, recovering his equanimity, he continued, it is fortunate that the earth was only touched obliquely. If the comet had impinged perpendicularly, it must have plowed its way deep below the surface, and the disasters it might have caused are beyond reckoning. Perhaps, he added with a smile, even Montmartre might not have survived the calamity. Sir shouted Benzouf, quite unable to bear the unprovoked attack. Quiet Benzouf, said Servidak sternly. Fortunately for the sake of peace, Isaac Hakobot, who at length was beginning to realize something of the true condition of things, came forward at this moment, and in a voice trembling with eagerness employed the professor to tell him when they would all get back upon earth. Are you in a great hurry, asked the professor coolly? The Jew was about to speak again when Captain Servidak interposed. Allow me to say that in somewhat more scientific terms, I was about to ask you the same question. Did I not understand you to say that as the consequences of the collision, the character of the comet's orbit has been changed? You did, sir. Did you imply that the orbit has ceased to be a parabola? Just so. Is it then an hyperbola, and are we to be carried on far and away into remote distance, and never, never to return? I did not say an hyperbola. And is it not? It is not. Then it must be an ellipse. Yes. And does its plane coincide with the plane of the earth? Yes. Then it must be a periodic comet. It is. Servidak involuntarily raised a ringing shout of joy that echoed again along the gallery. Yes, continued the professor. Gallia is a periodic comet. And allowing for the perturbations, which it is labelled from the attraction of Mars and Jupiter and Saturn, it will return to the earth again in two years precisely. You mean that in two years after the first shock, Gallia will meet the earth at the same point as they met before? said Lieutenant Proko. I'm afraid so, said Rosette. Why afraid? Because we are doing exceedingly well as we are. The professor stamped his foot upon the ground by way of emphasis and added, If I had my will, Gallia should never return to the earth again. Anonymous Book 2 Chapter 4 All previous hypotheses, then, were now forgotten in the presence of the one great fact that Gallia was a comet and gravitating through remote solar regions. Captain Servidak became aware that the huge disk that had been looming through the clouds after the shock was the form of the retreating earth, to the proximity of which the one high tide they had experienced was also to be attributed. As to the fulfilment of the professor's prediction of an ultimate return to the terrestrial sphere, that was a point on which it must be owned that the captain, after the first flush of his excitement was over, was not without many misgivings. The next day or two were spent in providing for the accommodation of the newcomer. Fortunately his desires were very moderate, he seemed to live among the stars, and as long as he was well provided with coffee he cared little for luxuries, and paid little or no regard to the ingenuity with which all internal arrangements of Nina's hive had been devised. Anxious to show all proper respect to his former tutor, Servidak proposed to leave the most comfortable apartment of the place at his disposal. But the professor resolutely declined to occupy it, saying that what he required was a small chamber, no matter how small, provided that it was elevated and secluded, which he could use as an observatory and where he might prosecute his studies without disturbance. A general search was instituted, and before long they were lucky enough to find, about a hundred feet above the central grotto, a small recess or reduct, hollowed as a twir in the mountain side which would exactly answer their purpose. It contained room enough for a bed, a table, an armchair, a chest of drawers, and what was of still more consequence, for the indispensable telescope. One small stream of lava, an offshoot of the great torrent, sufficed to warm the apartment enough. In these retired quarters the astronomer took up his abode. It was on all hands acknowledged to be advisable to let him go on entirely in his own way. His meals were taken to him at stated intervals. He slept but little, carried on his calculations by day, his observations by night, and very rarely made his appearance amongst the rest of the little community. The cold now became very intense, the thermometer registering 30 degrees Fahrenheit below zero. The mercury, however, never exhibited any of those fluctuations that are ever and again to be observed in variable climates, but continued slowly and steadily to fall, and in all probability would continue to do so until it reached the normal temperature of the regions of outlying space. This steady sinking of the mercury was accompanied by a complete stillness of the atmosphere. The very air seemed to be congealed, no particle of it stirred. From zenith to horizon there was never a cloud, neither were there any of the damp mist or dry fogs which so often extend over the polar regions of the earth. The sky was always clear, the sun shone by day, and the stars by night, without causing any perceptible difference in the temperature. These peculiar conditions rendered the cold and durable, even in the open air. The cause of so many of the diseases that prove fatal to arctic explorers resides in the cutting winds, unwholesome fogs, or terrible snowdrifts, which, by drying up, relaxing, or otherwise affecting the lungs, make them incapable of fulfilling their proper functions. But during periods of calm weather, when the air has been absolutely still, many polar navigators well clothed and properly fed have been known to withstand a temperature when the thermometer has fallen to 60 degrees below zero. It was the experience of Perry upon Melville Island, of King beyond latitude 81 degrees north, and of Hall and the crew of the Polaris, that, however intense the cold, in the absence of the wind, they could always brave its rigor. Notwithstanding then, the extreme lowness of the temperature, the little population found that they were able to move about in the open air with perfect immunity. The Governor General made it his special care to see that his people were all well fed and warmly clad. Food was both wholesome and abundant, and besides the furs brought from the doorbrainy stores, fresh skins could very easily be procured, and made up into wearing a peril. A daily course of outdoor exercise was enforced upon everyone. Not even Pablo and Nina were exempted from the general rule. The two children muffled up in furs, looking like little Eskimo, skated along together, Pablo ever at his companion's side, ready to give her a helping hand whenever she was weary with her exertions. After his interview with the newly arrived astronomer, Isaac Hackabutt slunk back again to his tartan. A change had come over his ideas. He could no longer resist the conviction that he was indeed millions and millions of miles away from the earth, where he had carried on so varied and renumerative a traffic. It might be imagined that this realization of his true position would have led him to a better mind, and that, in some degree at least, he would have been induced to regard the few fellow creatures with whom his lot had been so strangely cast. Otherwise, then as mere instruments, to be turned to his own personal and pecuniary advantage. But no, the desire of gain was too thoroughly ingrained into his hard nature ever to be eradicated, and secure in his knowledge that he was under the protection of a French officer, who, except under the most urgent necessity, would not permit him to be molested in retaining his property. He determined to wait for some emergency to arise which should enable him to use his present situation for his own profit. On the one hand the Jew took it into account that although the chances of returning to the earth might be remote, yet from what he had heard from the professor he could not believe that they were improbable. On the other he knew that a considerable sum of money, in English and Russian coinage, was in the possession of various members of the little colony. And this, although valueless now, would be worth as much as ever if the proper condition of things should be restored. Accordingly he set his heart on getting all the monetary wealth of Galea into his possession. And to do this he must sell his goods. But he would not sell them yet. There might come a time when, for many articles, the supply would not be equal to the demand. That would be the time for him. By waiting he reckoned he should be able to transact some lucrative business. Such, in his solitude, were old Isaac's cognitions, whilst the universal population of Nina's hive were congratulating themselves upon being rid of his odious presence. As already stated in the message brought by the carrier pigeon, the distance travelled by Galea in April was thirty-nine million leagues, and at the end of the month she was one hundred and ten million leagues from the sun. A diagram representing the elliptical orbit of the planet, accompanied by an ephemeris made out in minute detail, had been drawn out by the professor. The curve was divided into twenty-four sections of unequal length, representing, respectively, the distance described in the twenty-four months of the Galean year. The twelve former divisions, according to Kepler's Law, gradually diminishing in length as they approached the point, denoting the aphelion, and increasing as they neared the perihelion. It was on the twelfth of May that Rosette exhibited this result of his labours to Servidaq, the Count and the Lieutenant, who visited his apartment and naturally examined the drawing with the keenest interest. Galea's path, extending beyond the orbit of Jupiter, lay clearly defined before their eyes. The progress along the orbit and the solar distances being inserted for each month separately. Nothing could look planer, and if the professor's calculations were correct, a point upon which they dared not, if they would, express the semblance of a doubt. Galea would accomplish her revolution in precisely two years and would meet the Earth, which would in the same period of time have completed two annual revolutions in the very same spot as before. What would be the consequences of a second collision they scarcely ventured to think? Without lifting his eye from the diagram which he was still carefully scrutinizing, Servidaq said, I see that during the month of May Galea will only travel thirty million four hundred thousand leagues, and that this will leave her about a hundred and forty million leagues distant from the sun. Just so replied the professor. Then we have already passed the zone of the telescopic planets, have we not? asked the Count. Can you not use your eyes? said the professor, testily. If you will look you will see the zone marked clearly enough upon the map. Without noticing the interruption Servidaq continued his own remarks. The comment then, I see, is to reach his aphelion on the fifteenth of January, exactly a twelve month after passing its perihelion. A twelve month, not a Galleon twelve month? exclaimed Rosette. Servidaq looked bewildered. Lieutenant Proko could not suppress a smile. What are you laughing at? demanded the professor, turning round upon him angrily. Nothing, sir, only it amuses me to see how you want to revise the terrestrial calendar. I want it to be logical, that's all. By all manner of means, my dear professor, let us be logical. Well then listen to me, resume the professor stiffly. I presume you are taking it for granted that the Galleon year, by which I mean the time in which Galleon makes one revolution round the sun, is equal in length to two terrestrial years. They signified their ascent. And that year, like every other year, ought to be divided into twelve months. Yes, certainly if you wish it, said the captain acquiescing. If I wish it, exclaimed Rosette, nothing of the sort. Of course a year must have twelve months. Of course, said the captain. And how many days will make a month? asked the professor. I suppose sixty or sixty-two, as the case may be. The days now are only half as long as they used to be, answered the captain. Servidac, don't be thoughtless, said Rosette, with all the pencholent impatience of the old pedagogue. If the days are only half as long as they were, sixty of them cannot make up a twelfth part of Galleon's year, cannot be a month. I suppose not, replied the confused captain. Do you not see, then, continued the astronomer, that if a Galleon month is twice as long as a terrestrial month, and a Galleon day is only half as long as a terrestrial day, there must be a hundred and twenty days in every month? No doubt you are right, professor, said Count Timichef. But do you not think that the use of a new calendar such as this would practically be very troublesome? Not at all, not at all. I do not intend to use any other, was the professor's bluff reply. After pondering for a few moments the captain spoke again. According, then, to this new calendar it isn't the middle of May at all, it must now be some time in March. Yes, said the professor, today is the twenty-sixth of March, it is the two hundred and sixty-sixth day of the Galleon year. It corresponds with the one hundred and thirty-third day of the terrestrial year. You are quite correct, it is the twenty-sixth of March. Strange, muttered Servidak. And a month, a terrestrial month, thirty old days, sixty new days hence, it will be the eighty-sixth of March. Ha, ha! roared the captain, this is logic with a vengeance. The old professor had an undefined consciousness that his former pupil was laughing at him, and as it was growing late he made an excuse that he had no more leisure. The visitors accordingly quitted the observatory. It must be owned that the revised calendar was left to the professor's sole use, and the colony was fairly puzzled whenever he referred to such unheard of dates as the forty-seventh of April or the one hundred and eighteenth of May. According to the old calendar June had now arrived, and by the professor's tables Galleon during the month would have advanced twenty-seven million five hundred thousand leagues further along its orbit, and would have attained a distance of one hundred and fifty-five million leagues from the sun. The thermometer continued to fall. The atmosphere remained clear as here to four. The population performed their daily avocations with systemic routine, and almost the only thing that broke the monotony of existence was an occasional visit from the blustering nervous little professor when some sudden fancy induced him to throw aside his astronomical studies for a time and pay a visit to the common hall. His arrival there was generally hailed as the precursor of a little season of excitement. Somehow or other the conversation would eventually work its way round to the topic of a future collision between the comet and the earth. And in the same degree as this was a matter of sanguine anticipation to Captain Servodak and his friends, it was a matter of aversion to the astronomical enthusiast who had no desire to quit his present quarters in a sphere which, being of his own discovery, he could hardly have cared for more if it had been of his own creation. The interview would often terminate in a scene of considerable animation. On the twenty-seventh of June, old calendar, the professor burst like a cannon-ball into the central hall, where they were all assembled, and without a word of salutation or of preface, accosted the lieutenant in a way in which in earlier days he had been accustomed to speak to an idle schoolboy. Now, lieutenant, no evasions, no shufflings, tell me, have you, or have you not, circumnavigated Galea? The lieutenant drew himself up stiffly. Evasions, shufflings, I am not accustomed, sir. He began in a tone, evidencing no little resentment. But catching a hint from the count he subdued his voice, and simply said, We have. And may I ask, continued the professor, quite unaware of his previous discourtesy, whether when you have made your voyage you took any account of distances? As approximately as I could, replied the lieutenant, I did what I could by log and compass. I was unable to take the altitude of sun or star. At what result did you arrive? What is the measurement of our equator? I estimate the total circumference of the equator to be about one thousand four hundred miles. Ah! said the professor, more than half speaking to himself. A circumference of one thousand four hundred miles would give a diameter of about four hundred and fifty miles. That would be approximately about one sixteenth of the diameter of the earth. Raising his voice he continued, Gentlemen, in order to complete my account of my comet Galea, I require to know its area, its mass, its volume, its density, its specific gravity. Since we know the diameter, remarked the lieutenant, there can be no difficulty in finding its surface and its volume. And did I say there was any difficulty? asked the professor fiercely. I have been able to reckon that ever since I was born. Cock-a-doodle-doo! cried Ben Zoof, delighted at any opportunity of paying off his old grudge. The professor looked at him but did not vote safe a word. Addressing the captain he said, Now, Servidak, take your paper and a pen and find me the surface of Galea. With more submission than when he was a schoolboy the captain sat down and endeavoured to recall the proper formula. The surface of a sphere multiplies circumference by diameter. Right! cried Rosette, but it ought to be done by this time. Circumference one thousand four hundred diameter four hundred and fifty. Area of surface six hundred and thirty thousand. Read the captain. True! replied Rosette, six hundred and thirty thousand square miles, just two hundred and ninety-two times less than that of the earth. Pretty little comet, nice little comet, muttered Ben Zoof. The astronomer bit his lip, snorted, and cast at him a withering look, but did not take any further notice. Now, Captain Servidak, said the professor, take your pen again and find me the volume of Galea. The captain hesitated, quick, quick, cried the professor impatiently. Surely you have not forgotten how to find the volume of a sphere. A moment's breathing time, please. Breathing time indeed, and mathematician should not want breathing time. Come, multiply the surface by the third of the radius. Don't you recollect? Captain Servidak applied himself to his task, while the bystanders waited, with some difficulty suppressing their inclination to laugh. There was a short silence, at the end of which Servidak announced that the volume of the comet was forty-eight million eight hundred and eighty thousand cubic miles. Just about five thousand times less than the earth, observed the lieutenant. Nice little comet, pretty little comet, said Ben Zoof. The professor scowled at him, and was manifestly annoyed at having the insignificant dimensions of his comet pointed out in so disparaging a manner. Lieutenant Procope further remarked that from the earth he supposed it to be about as conspicuous as a star of the seventh magnitude, and would require a good telescope to see it. Laughed the orderly aloud, charming little comet, so pretty and so modest. You rascal! roared the professor, and clenched his hand in passion, as if about to strike him. Ben Zoof laughed the more, and was on the point of repeating his satirical comments when a stern order from the captain made him hold his tongue. The truth was that the professor was just as sensitive about his comet as the orderly was about Montmartre, and if the contention between the two had been allowed to go on, unchecked, it is impossible to say what serious quarrel might not have arisen. When Professor Rosette's equanimity had been restored he said, Thus then, gentlemen, the diameter, the surface, the volume of my comet are settled. But there is more to be done. I shall not be satisfied until by actual measurement I have determined its mass, its density, and the force of gravity at its surface. A laborious problem remarked Count Timischew. Laborious or not it has to be accomplished. I am resolved to find out what my comet weighs. Would it not be of some assistance if we knew of what substance it is composed? asked the lieutenant. That is of no moment at all, replied the professor. The problem is independent of it. Then we await your orders, was the captain's reply. You must understand, however, said Rosette, that there are various preliminary calculations to be made. You will have to wait till they are finished. As long as you please, said the Count. No hurry at all, observed the captain, who was not in the least impatient to continue his mathematical exercises. Then, gentlemen, said the astronomer, with your leave we will for this purpose make an appointment a few weeks hence. What do you say to the sixty-second of April? Without noticing the general smile, which the novel day provoked, the astronomer left the hall and retired to his observatory. End of Book 2, Chapter 4 Under the still diminishing influence of the sun's attraction, but without let or hindrance, Gallia continued its interplanetary course, accompanied by Nernia, its captured satellite, which performed its fortnightly revolutions with unvarying regularity. Meanwhile, the question beyond all others important was ever recurring to the minds of Servidak and his two companions. Were the astronomer's calculations correct, and was there a sound foundation for his prediction that the comet would again touch the earth? But whatever might be their doubts or anxieties, they were feigned to keep all their misgivings to themselves. The Professor was of a temper far too cross-grained for them to venture to ask him to revise or re-examine the results of his observations. The rest of the community, by no means, shared their uneasiness. Negrete and his fellow countrymen yielded to their destiny with philosophical indifference. Happier and better provided for than they had ever been in their lives, it did not give them a passing thought, far less any serious concern, whether they were still circling around the sun, or whether they were being carried right away within the limits of another system. Utterly careless of the future, the Majos, light-hearted as ever, curled out their favorite songs, just as if they had never quitted the shores of their native land. Happiest of all were Pablo and Nina, racing through the galleries of the hive, clamoring over rocks upon the shore, one day skating far away across the frozen ocean, the next fishing in the lake that was kept liquid by the heat of the lava torrent, the two children let a life of perpetual enjoyment. Nor was their recreation allowed to interfere with their studies. Captain Servedec, who in common with the Count, really liked them both, conceived that the responsibilities of a parent in some degree had devolved upon him, and took great care in superintending their daily lessons, which he succeeded in making hardly less pleasant than their sports. Indulged and loved by all, it was little wonder that young Pablo had no longing for the scorching plains of Andalusia, or that little Nina had lost all wish to return with her pet goat to the barren rocks of Sardinia. They had now a home in which they had nothing to desire. Have you no father or mother ask Pablo one day? No, she answered. No more have I, said the boy. I used to run along by the side of the diligence when I was in Spain. I used to look after goats at Maddalena, said Nina, but it is much nicer here. I am so happy here. I have you for a brother, and everyone is so kind. I am afraid they will spoil us, Pablo, she added, smilingly. Oh no, Nina, you are too good to be spoiled. And when I am with you, you make me good too, said Pablo gravely. July had now arrived. During the month Galea's advance along its orbit would be reduced to 22 million leagues. The distance from the sun at the end being 172 million leagues. About four and a half times as great as the average distance of the earth from the sun. It was traveling now at about the same speed as the earth, which traverses the elliptic at a rate of 21 million leagues a month, or 28,800 leagues an hour. In due time, the 62nd April, according to the revised Gallean calendar, dawned. And in punctual fulfillment of the professor's appointment, a note was delivered to Servodak to say that he was ready, and hoped that the day to commence operations for calculating the mass and density of his comet, as well as the force of gravity at its surface. A point of far greater interest to Captain Servodak and his friends would have been to ascertain the nature of the substance of which the comet was composed. But they felt pledged to render the professor any aid they could in the researches upon which he had set his heart. Without delay, therefore, they assembled in the central hall where they were soon joined by Rosette, who seemed to be in fairly good temper. Gentlemen, he began, I propose today to endeavor to complete our observations of the elements of my comet. Three matters of investigation are before us. First, the measure of gravity at its surface. This attractive force we know by the increase in our own muscular force must, of course, be considerably less than at the surface of the earth. Secondly, its mass, that is, the quality of its matter. And thirdly, its density or quantity of matter in a unit of its volume. We will proceed, gentlemen, if you please, to weigh Gallea. Ben Zoof, who had just entered the hall, caught the professor's last sentence. And without saying a word, he went out again and was absent for some minutes. When he returned, he said, If you want to weigh this comet of yours, I suppose you want a pair of scales. But I have been to look, and I cannot find a pair anywhere. And what's more, he added, mischievously, you won't get them anywhere. A frown came over the professor's countenance. Servidak saw it and gave his orderly assign that he should desist entirely from his bantering. I require, gentlemen, resumed Rosette, first of all to know by how much the weight of a kilogram here differs from its weight upon the earth. The attraction, as we have said, being less, the weight will proportionately be less also. Then an ordinary pair of scales, being under the influence of attraction, I suppose, would not answer your purpose, submitted the lieutenant. And the very kilogram weight you used would have become lighter, put in the count differentially. Pray, gentlemen, do not interrupt me, said the professor, authoritatively, as if ex-cathedra. I need no instruction on these points. Procope and Timoshef demerly bowed their heads. The professor resumed, upon a steel yard, or spring balance, depended upon mere tension or flexibility, the attraction will have no influence. If I suspend a weight equivalent to the weight of a kilogram, the index will register the proper weight on the surface of Gallia. Thus I shall arrive at the difference I want, the difference between the earth's attraction and the comets. Will you therefore have the goodness to provide me at once with a steel yard and a tested kilogram? The audience looked at one another, and then at Benzouf, who was thoroughly acquainted with all their resources. We have neither one nor the other, said the orderly. The professor stamped with vexation. I believe old Hakobot has a steel yard on board his tartan, said Benzouf presently. Then why didn't you say so before, you idiot, word the excitable little man? Anxious to pacify him, Servodak assured him that every exertion should be made to procure the instrument and directed Benzouf to go to the Jew and borrow it. No, stop a moment, he said, as Benzouf was moving away on his errand. Perhaps I had better go with you myself. The old Jew may make a difficulty about lending us any of his property. Why should we not all go? asked the Count. We should see what kind of life that misanthrope leads on board the Hansa. The proposal met with general approbation. Before they started, Professor Rosette requested that one of the men might be ordered to cut him a cubic decimeter out of the solid substance of Gallia. My engineer is the man for that, said the Count. He will do it well for you if you will give him the precise measurement. What? You don't mean, exclaimed the Professor, again going off in a passion, that you haven't a proper measure of length? Benzouf was sent off to ransack the stores for the article in question, but no measure was forthcoming. Most likely we shall find one on the tartan, said the orderly. Then let us lose no time in trying, answered the Professor, as he hustled with hasty strides into the gallery. The rest of the party followed, and were soon in the open air upon the rocks that overhung the shore. They descended to the level of the frozen water, and made their way towards the Little Creek where the Dobneria and the Hansa lay firmly imprisoned in their icy bonds. The temperature was low beyond previous experience, but well muffled up in fur, they all endured it without much actual suffering. Their breath issued in vapor, which was at once congealed into little crystals upon their whiskers, beards, eyebrows, and eyelashes, until their faces, covered with countless snow-white prickles, were truly ludicrous. The little Professor, most comical of all, resembled nothing so much as the cub of an arctic bear. It was eight o'clock in the morning. The sun was rapidly approaching the zenith, but its disc from the extreme remoteness was proportionately dwarfed, its beams being all but destitute of their proper warmth and radiance. The volcano, to its very summit, and the surrounding rocks, were still covered with the unsullied mantle of snow that had fallen while the atmosphere was still, to some extent, charged with vapor. But on the north side the snow had given place to the cascade of fiery lava, which, making its way down the sloping rocks as far as the vaulted opening of the central cavern, fell vents perpendicularly into the sea. Above the cavern, 130 feet up the mountain, was a dark hole, above which the stream of lava made a bifurcation in its course. From this hole projected the case of an astronomer's telescope. It was the opening of Polymarin Rosette's Observatory. Sea and land seemed to blend into one dreary whiteness, to which the pale blue sky offered scarcely any contrast. The shore was indented with the marks of many footsteps left by the colonists, either on their way to collect ice for drinking purposes, or as the result of their skating expeditions. The edges of the skates had cut out a labyrinth of curves complicated as the figures traced by aquatic insects upon the surface of a pool. Across the quarter a mile of level ground that lay between the mountain and the creek, a series of footprints frozen hard into the snow marked the course taken by Isaac Hackabutt on his last return from Nina's hive. On approaching the creek, Lieutenant Procope drew his companion's attention to the elevation of the Dobnerias and the Hansa's waterline, both vessels being now some 15 feet above the level of the sea. What a strange phenomenon, exclaimed the Captain. Makes me very uneasy, rejoined the Lieutenant. In shallow places like this, as the crust of ice thickens, it forces everything upward with irresistible force. But surely this process of congliation must have a limit, said the Count. But who can say what that limit will be? Remember that we have not yet reached our maximum of cold. Replied Procope. Indeed, I hope not, exclaimed the Professor. Where would be the use of our traveling 200 million leagues from the sun if we are only to experience the same temperature as we could find at the poles of the earth? Fortunately for us, however, Professor, said the Lieutenant with a smile, the temperature of the remotest space never descends beyond 70 degrees below zero. And as long as there is no wind, added Servedeck, we may pass comfortably through the winter without a single attack of Qatar. Lieutenant Procope proceeded to impart to the Count his anxiety about the situation of his yacht. He pointed out that by the constant superposition of new deposits of ice, the vessel would be elevated to a great height. Consequently, in the event of a thaw, it must be exposed to a calamity similar to those which in polar seas caused destruction to so many whalers. There was no time now for conserting measures off hand to prevent the disaster, for the other members of the party had already reached the spot where the Hanse-le bound in her icy trammels. A flight of steps, recently hewn by Hakobat himself, gave access for the present to the gangway. But it was evident that some different contrivance would have to be resorted to when the tartan should be elevated perhaps to a hundred feet. A thin curl of blue smoke issued from the copper funnel that projected above the mass of snow, which had accumulated upon the deck of the Hanse. The owner was sparing of his fuel, and it was only the non-conducting layer of ice enveloping the tartan that rendered the internal temperature indurable. Hi, old Nebuchadnezzar, where are you? shouted Ben Zoof at the full strength of his lung. At the sound of his voice the cabin door opened, and the Jew's head and shoulders protruded onto the deck.