"Why didn't we execute this grand manoeuvre the first time we reached
the neutral point?" asked M'Nicholl a little crustily.
"It would be useless," answered Barbican; "the Projectile's velocity at
that time, as you no doubt remember, not only did not need rockets, but
was actually too great to be affected by them."
"True!" chimed in Ardan; "a wind of four miles an hour is very little
use to a steamer going ten."
"That assertion," cried M'Nicholl, "I am rather dis--"
--"Dear friends," interposed Barbican, his pale face beaming and his
clear voice ringing with the new excitement; "let us just now waste no
time in mere words. We have one more chance, perhaps a great one. Let us
not throw it away! We have been on the brink of despair--"
--"Beyond it!" cried Ardan.
--"But I now begin to see a possibility, nay, a very decided
probability, of our being able to attain the great end at last!"
"Bravo!" cried Ardan.
"Hurrah!" cried M'Nicholl.
"Yes! my brave boys!" cried Barbican as enthusiastically as his
companions; "all's not over yet by a long shot!"
What had brought about this great revulsion in the spirits of our bold
adventurers? The breakfast? Prince Esterhazy's Tokay? The latter, most
probably.
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