A Telegram

The great works undertaken by the Gun Club had now virtually come to an end; and two months still remained before the day for the discharge of the shot to the moon. To the general impatience these two months appeared as long as years! Hitherto the smallest details of the operation had been daily chronicled by the journals, which the public devoured with eager eyes.

The Gun Club’s great works were now almost complete, and two months remained before the shot would be fired at the moon. To the impatient public, those two months seemed as long as years! Until then, newspapers had reported even the smallest details of the operation every day, and the public had eagerly devoured them.

Just at this moment a circumstance, the most unexpected, the most extraordinary and incredible, occurred to rouse afresh their panting spirits, and to throw every mind into a state of the most violent excitement.

Just then, something utterly unexpected, extraordinary, and incredible happened. It revived their flagging spirits and filled everyone with intense excitement.

One day, the 30th of September, at 3:47 P.M., a telegram, transmitted by cable from Valentia (Ireland) to Newfoundland and the American Mainland, arrived at the address of President Barbicane.

On September 30, at 3:47 P.M., a telegram arrived for President Barbicane. It had been sent by cable from Valentia, Ireland, to Newfoundland and the American Mainland.

The president tore open the envelope, read the dispatch, and, despite his remarkable powers of self-control, his lips turned pale and his eyes grew dim, on reading the twenty words of this telegram.

The president tore open the envelope and read the telegram. Despite his remarkable self-control, its twenty words made his lips turn pale and his eyes grow dim.

Here is the text of the dispatch, which figures now in the archives of the Gun Club:

Here is the text of the dispatch, now in the Gun Club archives:

MICHEL ARDAN.

MICHEL ARDAN.