But in spite of all Mrs. Scorbitt could do, it soon came about that Impey Barbicane, Captain Nicholl, and J. T. Maston began to be looked upon as dangers to society. So high grew the clamour that the Federal Government had to interfere, and call upon them to declare their intentions. What were their means of action? How did they intend to substitute one axis for another? What would be the consequences of the substitution? What parts of the globe would the substitution endanger? The excitement raging in every State in the Union allowed of no hesitation on the part of the Washington Government. A Commission of Inquiry, composed of engineers, mathematicians, hydrographers, and geographers, to the number of fifty, presided over by the celebrated John Prestice, was appointed on the 19th of February, with full powers to investigate the affair, and put a stop to it if necessary. Impey Barbicane was requested to attend before the Commission. Barbicane did not come. The police went to look for him at his residence, 95, Cleveland Street, Baltimore. Barbicane was there no longer. Where was he? They did not know. When had he gone away? Five weeks ago, on the 11th of January, he had left Maryland in company with Captain Nicholl. Where had they gone? No one could say. Evidently the two members of the Gun Club were on their way to the mysterious region where preparations would begin under their direction. But where could that be? It was important to know, if the scheme of these dangerous projectors was to be nipped in the bud. The effect of this departure of Barbicane and Nicholl was immense. The popular wrath rose like the rising of the equinoctial tide against the North Polar Practical Association. But there was one man who ought to know what had become of Impey Barbicane and his colleague. There was one who ought to be able to reply, and that instantly. J. T. Maston! J. T. Maston was requested to appear before the Commission. He did not go! Had he then left Baltimore? Had he gone with his colleagues, to help in the work of which the world awaited the results with such very natural alarm? No! J. T. Maston was still to be found at Ballistic Cottage. He was still incessantly at work, but now on other calculations, which he only left to spend an occasional evening with Mrs. Scorbitt at New Park. A policeman was sent with an order from the president of the Commission. The policeman reached the cottage, knocked at the door, entered the hall, and had a warm reception from Fire-Fire and a cool one from J. T. Maston. However, the secretary of the Gun Club thought it as well to go quietly, and he appeared before the Commission complaining bitterly of having been interrupted in his occupation. The first question put to him was,— “Do you know the whereabouts of Impey Barbicane and Captain Nicholl?” “I do,” said J. T. Maston, “but I am not authorized to tell you.” Second question,—