Chapter 16 - Page 2

bound to quit pretty soon the cone
of the shadow, at a point directly opposite to where it had entered it.
This cone could not possibly be of very great extent, considering the
very slight ratio borne by the Moon's diameter when compared with the
Sun's. Still, to all appearances, the Projectile seemed to be quite as
deeply immersed in the shadow as ever, and there was apparently not the
slightest sign of such a state of things coming soon to an end. At what
rate was the Projectile now moving? Hard to say, but certainly not
slowly, certainly rapidly enough to be out of the shadow by this time,
if describing a curve rigidly parabolic. Was the curve therefore _not_
parabolic? Another puzzling problem and sadly bewildering to poor
Barbican, who had now almost lost his reason by attempting to clear up
questions that were proving altogether too profound for his overworked
brains.

Not that he ever thought of taking rest. Not that his companions thought
of taking rest. Far from it. With senses as high-strung as ever, they
still watched carefully for every new fact, every unexpected incident
that might throw some light on the sidereal investigations. Even their
dinner, or what was called so, consisted of only a few bits of bread and
meat, distributed by Ardan at five o'clock, and swallowed mechanically.
They did not even turn on the gas full head to see what they were
eating; each man stood solidly at his window, the glass of which they
had enough to do in keeping free from the rapidly condensing moisture.

At about half-past five, however, M'Nicholl, who had been gazing for
some time with his telescope in a particular direction, called the
attention of his companions to some bright specks of light barely
discernible in that part of the horizon towards which the Projectile was
evidently moving. His words were hardly uttered when his companions
announced the same discovery. They could soon all see the glittering
specks not only becoming more and more numerous, but also gradually
assuming the shape of an extremely slender, but extremely brilliant
crescent. Rapidly more brilliant and more decided in shape the profile
gradually grew, till it soon resembled the first faint sketch of the New
Moon that we catch of evenings in the western sky, or rather the first
glimpse we get of her limb as it slowly moves out of eclipse. But it was
inconceivably brighter than either, and was furthermore strangely
relieved by the pitchy blackness both of sky and Moon. In fact, it soon
became so brilliant as to dispel in a moment all doubt as to its
particular nature. No meteor could present such a perfect shape; no
volcano, such dazzling splendor.

"The Sun!" cried Barbican.

"The Sun?" asked M'Nicholl