“And you say that the same fate is in store for the earth?” “Most probably.” “But when?” “When the cooling of its crust shall have made it uninhabitable.” “And have they calculated the time which our unfortunate sphere will take to cool?” “Certainly.” “And you know these calculations?” “Perfectly.” “But speak, then, my clumsy savant,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “for you make me boil with impatience!” “Very well, my good Michel,” replied Barbicane quietly; “we know what diminution of temperature the earth undergoes in the lapse of a century. And according to certain calculations, this mean temperature will after a period of 400,000 years, be brought down to zero!” “Four hundred thousand years!” exclaimed Michel. “Ah! I breathe again. Really I was frightened to hear you; I imagined that we had not more than 50,000 years to live.” Barbicane and Nicholl could not help laughing at their companion’s uneasiness. Then Nicholl, who wished to end the discussion, put the second question, which had just been considered again. “Has the moon been inhabited?” he asked. The answer was unanimously in the affirmative. But during this discussion, fruitful in somewhat hazardous theories, the projectile was rapidly leaving the moon: the lineaments faded away from the travelers’ eyes, mountains were confused in the distance; and of all the wonderful, strange, and fantastical form of the earth’s satellite, there soon remained nothing but the imperishable remembrance. CHAPTER XIX. A STRUGGLE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE For a long time Barbicane and his companions looked silently and sadly upon that world which they had only seen from a distance, as Moses saw the land of Canaan, and which they were leaving without a possibility of ever returning to it. The projectile’s position with regard to the moon had altered, and the base was now turned to the earth. This change, which Barbicane verified, did not fail to surprise them. If the projectile was to gravitate round the satellite in an elliptical orbit, why was not its heaviest part turned toward it, as the moon turns hers to the earth? That was a difficult point. In watching the course of the projectile they could see that on leaving the moon it followed a course analogous to that traced in approaching her. It was describing a very long ellipse, which would most likely extend to the point of equal attraction, where the influences of the earth and its satellite are neutralized. Such was the conclusion which Barbicane very justly drew from facts already observed, a conviction which his two friends shared with him. “And when arrived at this dead point, what will become of us?” asked Michel Ardan. “We don’t know,” replied Barbicane. “But one can draw some hypotheses, I suppose?” “Two,” answered Barbicane; “either the projectile’s speed will be insufficient, and it will remain forever immovable on this line of double attraction—” “I prefer the other hypothesis, whatever it may be,” interrupted Michel.