“Is it to be believed? is it probable? is it possible?” exclaimed Michel; “and yet it is so. Ah! if Raphael had seen us thus, what an ‘Assumption’ he would have thrown upon canvas!” “The ‘Assumption’ cannot last,” replied Barbicane. “If the projectile passes the neutral point, the lunar attraction will draw us to the moon.” “Then our feet will be upon the roof,” replied Michel. “No,” said Barbicane, “because the projectile’s center of gravity is very low; it will only turn by degrees.” “Then all our portables will be upset from top to bottom, that is a fact.” “Calm yourself, Michel,” replied Nicholl; “no upset is to be feared; not a thing will move, for the projectile’s evolution will be imperceptible.” “Just so,” continued Barbicane; “and when it has passed the point of equal attraction, its base, being the heavier, will draw it perpendicularly to the moon; but, in order that this phenomenon should take place, we must have passed the neutral line.” “Pass the neutral line,” cried Michel; “then let us do as the sailors do when they cross the equator.” A slight side movement brought Michel back toward the padded side; thence he took a bottle and glasses, placed them “in space” before his companions, and, drinking merrily, they saluted the line with a triple hurrah. The influence of these attractions scarcely lasted an hour; the travelers felt themselves insensibly drawn toward the floor, and Barbicane fancied that the conical end of the projectile was varying a little from its normal direction toward the moon. By an inverse motion the base was approaching first; the lunar attraction was prevailing over the terrestrial; the fall toward the moon was beginning, almost imperceptibly as yet, but by degrees the attractive force would become stronger, the fall would be more decided, the projectile, drawn by its base, would turn its cone to the earth, and fall with ever-increasing speed on to the surface of the Selenite continent; their destination would then be attained. Now nothing could prevent the success of their enterprise, and Nicholl and Michel Ardan shared Barbicane’s joy. Then they chatted of all the phenomena which had astonished them one after the other, particularly the neutralization of the laws of weight. Michel Ardan, always enthusiastic, drew conclusions which were purely fanciful. “Ah, my worthy friends,” he exclaimed, “what progress we should make if on earth we could throw off some of that weight, some of that chain which binds us to her; it would be the prisoner set at liberty; no more fatigue of either arms or legs. Or, if it is true that in order to fly on the earth’s surface, to keep oneself suspended in the air merely by the play of the muscles, there requires a strength a hundred and fifty times greater than that which we possess, a simple act of volition, a caprice, would bear us into space, if attraction did not exist.”