"By a third, according to my calculations," replied Barbican, "which I think are right. Supposing our initial velocity, therefore, to have been 12,000 yards per second, by the time we quitted the atmosphere it must have been reduced to 8,000 yards per second. At that rate, we must have gone by this time--" "Then, Mac, my boy, you've lost your two bets!" interrupted Ardan. "The Columbiad has not burst, four thousand dollars; the Projectile has risen at least six miles, five thousand dollars; come, Captain, bleed!" "Let me first be sure we're right," said the Captain, quietly. "I don't deny, you see, that friend Barbican's arguments are quite right, and, therefore, that I have lost my nine thousand dollars. But there is another view of the case possible, which might annul the bet." "What other view?" asked Barbican, quickly. "Suppose," said the Captain, very drily, "that the powder had not caught, and that we were still lying quietly at the bottom of the Columbiad!" "By Jove!" laughed Ardan, "there's an idea truly worthy of my own nondescript brain! We must surely have changed heads during that concussion! No matter, there is some sense left in us yet. Come now, Captain, consider a little, if you can. Weren't we both half-killed by the shock? Didn't I rescue you from certain death with these two hands? Don't you see Barbican's shoulder still bleeding by the violence of the shock?" "Correct, friend Michael, correct in every particular," replied the Captain, "But one little question." "Out with it!" "Friend Michael, you say we're moving?" "Yes." "In consequence of the explosion?" "Certainly!" "Which must have been attended with a tremendous report?" "Of course!" "Did you hear that report, friend Michael?" "N--o," replied Ardan, a little disconcerted at the question. "Well, no; I can't say that I did hear any report." "Did you, friend Barbican?" "No," replied Barbican, promptly. "I heard no report whatever." His answer was ready, but his look was quite as disconcerted as Ardan's. "Well, friend Barbican and friend Michael," said the Captain, very drily as he leered wickedly at both, "put that and that together and tell me what you make of it." "It's a fact!" exclaimed Barbican, puzzled, but not bewildered. "Why did we not hear that report?" "Too hard for me," said Ardan. "Give it up!" The three friends gazed at each other for a while with countenances expressive of much perplexity. Barbican appeared to be the least self-possessed of the party. It was a complete turning of the tables from the state of things a few moments ago. The problem was certainly simple enough, but for that very reason the more inexplicable. If they were moving the explosion must have taken place; but if the explosion had taken place, why had they not heard the report? Barbican's decision soon put an end to speculation. "Conjecture being useless," said he, "let us have recourse to facts. First, let us see where we are. Drop the deadlights!"