"Well," answered M'Nicholl slowly but confidently, "the calculation is
made, I think correctly; and _v_, that is, the velocity of the
Projectile when quitting the atmosphere, sufficient to carry it to the
neutral point, should be at least ..."
"How much?" asked Barbican, eagerly.
"Should be at least 11,972 yards the first second."
"What!" cried Barbican, jumping off his seat. "How much did you say?"
"11,972 yards the first second it quits the atmosphere."
"Oh, malediction!" cried Barbican, with a gesture of terrible despair.
"What's the matter?" asked Ardan, very much surprised.
"Enough is the matter!" answered Barbican excitedly. "This velocity
having been diminished by a third, our initial velocity should have been
at least ..."
"17,958 yards the first second!" cried M'Nicholl, rapidly flourishing
his pencil.
"But the Cambridge Observatory having declared that 12,000 yards the
first second were sufficient, our Projectile started with no greater
velocity!"
"Well?" asked M'Nicholl.
"Well, such a velocity will never do!"
"How??" }
"How!!" } cried the Captain and Ardan in one voice.
"We can never reach the neutral point!"
"Thunder and lightning"
"Fire and Fury!"
"We can't get even halfway!"
"Heaven and Earth!"
"_Mille noms d'un boulet!_" cried Ardan, wildly gesticulating.
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