Chapter XX.

       Thrust and Parry.

       Table of Contents

      This incident seemed to have terminated the discussion, but when the agitation had subsided these words were heard uttered in a loud and severe voice:—

      “Now that the orator has allowed his fancy to roam, perhaps he would kindly go back to his subject, pay less attention to theories, and discuss the practical part of his expedition.”

      All eyes were turned towards the person who spoke thus. He was a thin, dry-looking man, with an energetic face and an American beard. By taking advantage of the agitation in the assembly from time to time he had gained, by degrees, the front row of spectators. There, with his arms crossed, his eyes brilliant and bold, he stared imperturbably at the hero of the meeting. After having asked his question he kept silence, and did not seem disturbed by the thousands of eyes directed towards him nor by the disapproving murmur excited by his words. The answer being delayed he again put the question with the same clear and precise accent; then he added—

      “We are here to discuss the moon, not the earth.”

      “You are right, sir,” answered Michel Ardan, “the discussion has wandered from the point; we will return to the moon.”

      “Sir,” resumed the unknown man, “you pretend that our satellite is inhabited. So far so good; but if Selenites do exist they certainly live without breathing, for—I tell you the fact for your good—there is not the least particle of air on the surface of the moon.”

      At this affirmation Ardan shook his red mane; he understood that a struggle was coming with this man on the real question. He looked at him fixedly in his turn, and said—

      “Ah! there is no air in the moon! And who says so, pray?”

      “The savants.”

      “Indeed?”

      “Indeed.”

      “Sir,” resumed Michel, “joking apart, I have a profound respect for savants who know, but a profound contempt for savants who do not know.”

      “Do you know any who belong to the latter category?”

      “Yes; in France there is one who maintains that, ‘mathematically,’ a bird cannot fly, and another who demonstrates that a fish is not made to live in water.”

      “There is no question of those two, sir, and I can quote in support of my proposition names that you will not object to.”

      “Then, sir, you would greatly embarrass a poor ignorant man like me!”

      “Then why do you meddle with scientific questions which you have never studied?” asked the unknown brutally.

      “Why?” answered Ardan; “because the man who does not suspect danger is always brave! I know nothing, it is true, but it is precisely my weakness that makes my strength.”

      “Your weakness goes as far as madness,” exclaimed the unknown in a bad-tempered tone.

      “So much the better,” replied the Frenchman, “if my madness takes me to the moon!”

      Barbicane and his colleagues stared at the intruder who had come so boldly to stand in the way of their enterprise. None of them knew him, and the president, not reassured upon the upshot of such a discussion, looked at his new friend with some apprehension. The assembly was attentive and slightly uneasy, for this struggle called attention to the dangers and impossibilities of the expedition.

      “Sir,” resumed Michel Ardan’s adversary, “the reasons that prove the absence of all atmosphere round the moon are numerous and indisputable. I may say, even, that, _à priori_ if that atmosphere had ever existed, it must have been drawn away by the earth, but I would rather oppose you with incontestable facts.”

      “Oppose, sir,” answered Michel Ardan, with perfect gallantry—oppose as much as you like.”

      “You know,” said the unknown, “that when the sun’s rays traverse a medium like air they are deviated from a straight line, or, in other words, they are refracted. Well, when stars are occulted by the moon their rays, on grazing the edge of her disc, do not show the least deviation nor offer the slightest indication of refraction. It follows, therefore, that the moon can have no atmosphere.”

      Every one looked at the Frenchman, for, this once admitted, the consequences were rigorous.

      “In fact,” answered Michel Ardan, “that is your best if not only argument, and a savant, perhaps, would be embarrassed to answer it. I can only tell you that this argument has no absolute value because it supposes the angular diameter of the moon to be perfectly determined, which it is not. But let us waive that, and tell me, my dear sir, if you admit the existence of volcanoes on the surface of the moon.”

      “Extinct volcanoes, yes; volcanoes in eruption, no.”

      “For the sake of argument let us suppose that these volcanoes have been in eruption for a certain period.”

      “That is certain, but as they can themselves furnish the oxygen necessary for combustion the fact of their eruption does not in the least prove the presence of a lunar atmosphere.”

      “We will pass on, then,” answered Michel Ardan, “and leave this series of argument and arrive at direct observation. But I warn you that I am going to quote names.”

      “Very well.”

      “In 1715 the astronomers Louville and Halley, observing the eclipse of the 3rd of May, remarked certain fulminations of a remarkable nature. These jets of light, rapid and frequent, were attributed by them to storms in the atmosphere of the moon.”

      “In 1715,” replied the unknown, “the astronomers Louville and Halley took for lunar phenomena phenomena purely terrestrial, such as meteoric or other bodies which are generated in our own atmosphere. That was the scientific aspect of these facts, and I go with it.”

      “Let us pass on again,” answered Ardan, without being confused by the reply. “Did not Herschel, in 1787, observe a great number of luminous points on the surface of the moon?”

      “Certainly; but without explaining the origin of these luminous points. Herschel himself did not thereby conclude the necessity of a lunar atmosphere.”

      “Well answered,” said Michel Ardan, complimenting his adversary; “I see that you are well up in selenography.”

      “Yes, sir; and I may add that the most skilful observers, MM. Boeer and Moedler, agree that air is absolutely wanting on the moon’s surface.”

      A movement took place amongst the audience, who appeared struck by the arguments of this singular personage.

      “We will pass on again,” answered