“Yes. If the deductions of modern science be true, the speed of the comet, when suddenly checked, will be transmuted into heat, and that heat will be so intense that the temperature of the comet will be raised to some millions of degrees.” No one having anything definite to allege in reply to Lieutenant Procope’s forebodings, they all relapsed into silence. Presently Ben Zoof asked whether it was not possible for the comet to fall into the middle of the Atlantic. Procope shook his head. “Even so, we should only be adding the fate of drowning to the list of our other perils.” “Then, as I understand,” said Captain Servadac, “in whatever way or in whatever place the concussion occurs, we must be either crushed, suffocated, roasted, or drowned. Is that your conclusion, lieutenant?” “I confess I see no other alternative,” answered Procope, calmly. “But isn’t there another thing to be done?” said Ben Zoof. “What do you mean?” his master asked. “Why, to get off the comet before the shock comes.” “How could you get off Gallia?” “That I can’t say,” replied the orderly. “I am not sure that that could not be accomplished,” said the lieutenant. All eyes in a moment were riveted upon him, as, with his head resting on his hands, he was manifestly cogitating a new idea. “Yes, I think it could be accomplished,” he repeated. “The project may appear extravagant, but I do not know why it should be impossible. Ben Zoof has hit the right nail on the head; we must try and leave Gallia before the shock.” “Leave Gallia! How?” said Count Timascheff. The lieutenant did not at once reply. He continued pondering for a time, and at last said, slowly and distinctly, “By making a balloon!” Servadac’s heart sank. “A balloon!” he exclaimed. “Out of the question! Balloons are exploded things. You hardly find them in novels. Balloon, indeed!” “Listen to me,” replied Procope. “Perhaps I can convince you that my idea is not so chimerical as you imagine.” And, knitting his brow, he proceeded to establish the feasibility of his plan. “If we can ascertain the precise moment when the shock is to happen, and can succeed in launching ourselves a sufficient time beforehand into Gallia’s atmosphere, I believe it will transpire that this atmosphere will amalgamate with that of the earth, and that a balloon whirled along by the combined velocity would glide into the mingled atmosphere and remain suspended in mid-air until the shock of the collision is overpast.” Count Timascheff reflected for a minute, and said, “I think, lieutenant, I understand your project. The scheme seems tenable; and I shall be ready to co-operate with you, to the best of my power, in putting it into execution.”