Chapter 18

CHAPTER XVIII

THE PASSENGER OF THE ATLANTA

If this astounding news, instead of flying through the electric
wires, had simply arrived by post in the ordinary sealed envelope,
Barbicane would not have hesitated a moment. He would have held
his tongue about it, both as a measure of prudence, and in order
not to have to reconsider his plans. This telegram might be a
cover for some jest, especially as it came from a Frenchman.
What human being would ever have conceived the idea of such
a journey? and, if such a person really existed, he must be an
idiot, whom one would shut up in a lunatic ward, rather than
within the walls of the projectile.

The contents of the dispatch, however, speedily became known;
for the telegraphic officials possessed but little discretion,
and Michel Ardan's proposition ran at once throughout the
several States of the Union. Barbicane, had, therefore, no
further motives for keeping silence. Consequently, he called
together such of his colleagues as were at the moment in Tampa
Town, and without any expression of his own opinions simply read
to them the laconic text itself. It was received with every
possible variety of expressions of doubt, incredulity, and
derision from every one, with the exception of J. T. Maston, who
exclaimed, "It is a grand idea, however!"

When Barbicane originally proposed to send a shot to the moon
every one looked upon the enterprise as simple and practicable
enough-- a mere question of gunnery; but when a person,
professing to be a reasonable being, offered to take passage
within the projectile, the whole thing became a farce, or, in
plainer language a humbug.

One question, however, remained. Did such a being exist?
This telegram flashed across the depths of the Atlantic, the
designation of the vessel on board which he was to take his
passage, the date assigned for his speedy arrival, all combined
to impart a certain character of reality to the proposal.
They must get some clearer notion of the matter. Scattered groups
of inquirers at length condensed themselves into a compact crowd,
which made straight for the residence of President Barbicane.
That worthy individual was keeping quiet with the intention of
watching events as they arose. But he had forgotten to take
into account the public impatience; and it was with no pleasant
countenance that he watched the population of Tampa Town
gathering under his windows. The murmurs and vociferations
below presently obliged him to appear. He came forward,
therefore, and on silence being procured, a citizen put
point-blank to him the following question: "Is the person
mentioned in the telegram, under the name of Michel Ardan, on
his way here? Yes or no."