“Very well, replied Barbicane; “in popular language the mean distance from the moon to the earth being sixty terrestrial radii, the length of the cone of the shadow, on account of refraction, is reduced to less than forty-two radii. The result is that when there are eclipses, the moon finds itself beyond the cone of pure shadow, and that the sun sends her its rays, not only from its edges, but also from its center.” “Then,” said Michel, in a merry tone, “why are there eclipses, when there ought not to be any?” “Simply because the solar rays are weakened by this refraction, and the atmosphere through which they pass extinguished the greater part of them!” “That reason satisfies me,” replied Michel. “Besides we shall see when we get there. Now, tell me, Barbicane, do you believe that the moon is an old comet?” “There’s an idea!” “Yes,” replied Michel, with an amiable swagger, “I have a few ideas of that sort.” “But that idea does not spring from Michel,” answered Nicholl. “Well, then, I am a plagiarist.” “No doubt about it. According to the ancients, the Arcadians pretend that their ancestors inhabited the earth before the moon became her satellite. Starting from this fact, some scientific men have seen in the moon a comet whose orbit will one day bring it so near to the earth that it will be held there by its attraction.” “Is there any truth in this hypothesis?” asked Michel. “None whatever,” said Barbicane, “and the proof is, that the moon has preserved no trace of the gaseous envelope which always accompanies comets.” “But,” continued Nicholl, “Before becoming the earth’s satellite, could not the moon, when in her perihelion, pass so near the sun as by evaporation to get rid of all those gaseous substances?” “It is possible, friend Nicholl, but not probable.” “Why not?” “Because—Faith I do not know.” “Ah!” exclaimed Michel, “what hundred of volumes we might make of all that we do not know!” “Ah! indeed. What time is it?” asked Barbicane. “Three o’clock,” answered Nicholl. “How time goes,” said Michel, “in the conversation of scientific men such as we are! Certainly, I feel I know too much! I feel that I am becoming a well!” Saying which, Michel hoisted himself to the roof of the projectile, “to observe the moon better,” he pretended. During this time his companions were watching through the lower glass. Nothing new to note! When Michel Ardan came down, he went to the side scuttle; and suddenly they heard an exclamation of surprise! “What is it?” asked Barbicane. The president approached the window, and saw a sort of flattened sack floating some yards from the projectile. This object seemed as motionless as the projectile, and was consequently animated with the same ascending movement. “What is that machine?” continued Michel Ardan. “Is it one of the bodies which our projectile keeps within its attraction, and which will accompany it to the moon?”