"He's cleared the
disc completely, and he's now himself again! Long life to him! Hurrah!"
"Hurrah!" cried the others quite as enthusiastically (Ardan did not seem
a bit desirous to finish his sentence).
They tossed their maps aside and hastened to the window.
CHAPTER XVII.
TYCHO.
It was now exactly six o'clock in the evening. The Sun, completely clear
of all contact with the lunar disc, steeped the whole Projectile in his
golden rays. The travellers, vertically over the Moon's south pole,
were, as Barbican soon ascertained, about 30 miles distant from it, the
exact distance they had been from the north pole--a proof that the
elliptic curve still maintained itself with mathematical rigor.
For some time, the travellers' whole attention was concentrated on the
glorious Sun. His light was inexpressibly cheering; and his heat, soon
penetrating the walls of the Projectile, infused a new and sweet life
into their chilled and exhausted frames. The ice rapidly disappeared,
and the windows soon resumed their former perfect transparency.
"Oh! how good the pleasant sunlight is!" cried the Captain, sinking on a
seat in a quiet ecstasy of enjoyment.
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