_Dum vivimus vivamus_! As we
are asleep let us be asleep!"
So saying he threw himself on the mattress, and his companions
immediately followed the example.
They had been lying hardly a quarter of an hour, when Barbican started
up with a cry so loud and sudden as instantly to awaken his companions.
The bright moonlight showed them the President sitting up in his bed,
his eye blazing, his arms waving, as he shouted in a tone reminding them
of the day they had found him in St. Helena wood.
"_Eureka!_ I've got it! I know it!"
"What have you got?" cried Ardan, bouncing up and seizing him by the
right hand.
"What do you know?" cried the Captain, stretching over and seizing him
by the left.
"The reason why we did not hear the report!"
"Well, why did not we hear it!" asked both rapidly in the same breath.
"Because we were shot up 30 times faster than sound can travel!"
CHAPTER III.
THEY MAKE THEMSELVES AT HOME AND FEEL QUITE COMFORTABLE.
This curious explanation given, and its soundness immediately
recognized, the three friends were soon fast wrapped in the arms of
Morpheus. Where in fact could they have found a spot more favorable for
undisturbed repose? On land, where the dwellings, whether in populous
city or lonely country, continually experience every shock that thrills
the Earth's crust? At sea, where between waves or winds or paddles or
screws or machinery, everything is tremor, quiver or jar? In the air,
where the balloon is incessantly twirling, oscillating, on account of
the ever varying strata of different densities, and even occasionally
threatening to spill you out? The Projectile alone, floating grandly
through the absolute void, in the midst of the profoundest silence,
could offer to its inmates the possibility of enjoying slumber the most
complete, repose the most profound.
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