Attack and Counterattack

As soon as the excitement had subsided, the following words were heard uttered in a strong and determined voice:

As soon as the excitement died down, a strong, determined voice spoke:

“Now that the speaker has favored us with so much imagination, would he be so good as to return to his subject, and give us a little practical view of the question?”

“Now that the speaker has shared so much imagination with us, could he return to the subject? Could he give us a more practical view of the question?”

All eyes were directed toward the person who spoke. He was a little dried-up man, of an active figure, with an American “goatee” beard. Profiting by the different movements in the crowd, he had managed by degrees to gain the front row of spectators. There, with arms crossed and stern gaze, he watched the hero of the meeting. After having put his question he remained silent, and appeared to take no notice of the thousands of looks directed toward himself, nor of the murmur of disapprobation excited by his words. Meeting at first with no reply, he repeated his question with marked emphasis, adding, “We are here to talk about the moon and not about the earth.”

All eyes turned toward the man who had spoken. He was a small, wiry man with a lively manner and an American “goatee” beard. Taking advantage of the shifting crowd, he had gradually made his way to the front row of spectators. There, arms crossed and gaze stern, he watched the hero of the meeting. After asking his question, he fell silent. He seemed to take no notice of the thousands of eyes on him or the murmurs of disapproval his words had stirred. When no one answered at first, he repeated his question with marked emphasis, adding, “We are here to talk about the moon and not about the earth.”

“You are right, sir,” replied Michel Ardan; “the discussion has become irregular. We will return to the moon.”

“You are right, sir,” replied Michel Ardan. “The discussion has gone off track. Let's return to the moon.”

“Sir,” said the unknown, “you pretend that our satellite is inhabited. Very good, but if Selenites do exist, that race of beings assuredly must live without breathing, for—I warn you for your own sake—there is not the smallest particle of air on the surface of the moon.”

“Sir,” said the stranger, “you claim that our moon is inhabited. Very well, but if Selenites do exist, they must surely live without breathing. I warn you for your own sake: there is not the smallest particle of air on the moon’s surface.”

At this remark Ardan pushed up his shock of red hair; he saw that he was on the point of being involved in a struggle with this person upon the very gist of the whole question. He looked sternly at him in his turn and said:

At this remark, Ardan pushed back his thick red hair. He saw that he was about to clash with this man over the heart of the whole question. He gave the man a stern look in return and said:

“Oh! so there is no air in the moon? And pray, if you are so good, who ventures to affirm that?

“Oh! So there is no air on the moon? And please, who dares to say that?

“The men of science.”

“The scientists.”

“Really?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really.”

“Sir,” replied Michel, “pleasantry apart, I have a profound respect for men of science who do possess science, but a profound contempt for men of science who do not.”

“Sir,” replied Michel, “joking aside, I deeply respect scientists who know their science. But I deeply despise scientists who don't.”

“Do you know any who belong to the latter category?”

“Do you know anyone in the second group?”

“Decidedly. In France there are some who maintain that, mathematically, a bird cannot possibly fly; and others who demonstrate theoretically that fishes were never made to live in water.”

“Definitely. In France, some people claim that, mathematically, a bird cannot possibly fly. Others argue that, in theory, fish were never meant to live in water.”

“I have nothing to do with persons of that description, and I can quote, in support of my statement, names which you cannot refuse deference to.”

“I have nothing to do with people like that. And I can name people you cannot refuse to respect in support of what I say.”

“Then, sir, you will sadly embarrass a poor ignorant, who, besides, asks nothing better than to learn.”

“Then, sir, you will greatly embarrass a poor ignorant man who wants nothing more than to learn.”

“Why, then, do you introduce scientific questions if you have never studied them?” asked the unknown somewhat coarsely.

“Then why do you bring up scientific questions if you’ve never studied them?” the stranger asked somewhat rudely.

“For the reason that ‘he is always brave who never suspects danger.’ I know nothing, it is true; but it is precisely my very weakness which constitutes my strength.”

“Because ‘a person who never suspects danger is always brave.’ It’s true that I know nothing. But that very weakness is my strength.”

“Your weakness amounts to folly,” retorted the unknown in a passion.

“Your weakness is foolish,” the stranger retorted angrily.

“All the better,” replied our Frenchman, “if it carries me up to the moon.”

“All the better,” our Frenchman replied, “if it takes me to the moon.”

Barbicane and his colleagues devoured with their eyes the intruder who had so boldly placed himself in antagonism to their enterprise. Nobody knew him, and the president, uneasy as to the result of so free a discussion, watched his new friend with some anxiety. The meeting began to be somewhat fidgety also, for the contest directed their attention to the dangers, if not the actual impossibilities, of the proposed expedition.

Barbicane and his colleagues stared intently at the intruder who had so boldly opposed their enterprise. Nobody knew him. The president was uneasy about how such an open discussion might end, and watched his new friend with some anxiety. The meeting also grew somewhat restless. The debate was drawing attention to the dangers, if not the outright impossibilities, of the proposed expedition.

“Sir,” replied Ardan’s antagonist, “there are many and incontrovertible reasons which prove the absence of an atmosphere in the moon. I might say that, a priori, if one ever did exist, it must have been absorbed by the earth; but I prefer to bring forward indisputable facts.”

“Sir,” replied Ardan’s opponent, “there are many undeniable reasons that prove the moon has no atmosphere. I could say that, a priori, if the moon ever had an atmosphere, the earth must have absorbed it. But I prefer to present indisputable facts.”

“Bring them forward then, sir, as many as you please.”

“Then bring them forward, sir, as many as you like.”

“You know,” said the stranger, “that when any luminous rays cross a medium such as the air, they are deflected out of the straight line; in other words, they undergo refraction. Well! When stars are occulted by the moon, their rays, on grazing the edge of her disc, exhibit not the least deviation, nor offer the slightest indication of refraction. It follows, therefore, that the moon cannot be surrounded by an atmosphere.

“You know,” said the stranger, “that light rays bend when they pass through a medium such as air. In other words, they undergo refraction. Well! When the moon blocks stars from view, their rays graze the edge of its disc. Yet the rays show no deviation at all, nor the slightest sign of refraction. It follows, therefore, that the moon cannot be surrounded by an atmosphere.

“In point of fact,” replied Ardan, “this is your chief, if not your only argument; and a really scientific man might be puzzled to answer it. For myself, I will simply say that it is defective, because it assumes that the angular diameter of the moon has been completely determined, which is not the case. But let us proceed. Tell me, my dear sir, do you admit the existence of volcanoes on the moon’s surface?”

“In fact,” replied Ardan, “this is your main argument, if not your only one. Even a true scientist might struggle to answer it. For my part, I will simply say that the argument is flawed. It assumes that the moon’s angular diameter has been fully determined, but it has not. But let us continue. Tell me, my dear sir, do you accept that there are volcanoes on the moon’s surface?”

“Extinct, yes! In activity, no!”

“Extinct, yes! Active, no!”

“These volcanoes, however, were at one time in a state of activity?”

“But these volcanoes were once active?”

“True, but, as they furnish themselves the oxygen necessary for combustion, the mere fact of their eruption does not prove the presence of an atmosphere.”

“True, but they supply their own oxygen for combustion. So the fact that they erupt does not prove there is an atmosphere.”

“Proceed again, then; and let us set aside this class of arguments in order to come to direct observations. In 1715 the astronomers Louville and Halley, watching the eclipse of the 3rd of May, remarked some very extraordinary scintillations. These jets of light, rapid in nature, and of frequent recurrence, they attributed to thunderstorms generated in the lunar atmosphere.”

“Go on, then. Let us set aside these arguments and turn to direct observations. In 1715, the astronomers Louville and Halley watched the eclipse of May 3. They noticed some very unusual flashes of light. These flashes were rapid and frequent. They attributed them to thunderstorms in the lunar atmosphere.”

“In 1715,” replied the unknown, “the astronomers Louville and Halley mistook for lunar phenomena some which were purely terrestrial, such as meteoric or other bodies which are generated in our own atmosphere. This was the scientific explanation at the time of the facts; and that is my answer now.”

“In 1715,” replied the stranger, “the astronomers Louville and Halley mistook some earthly phenomena for events on the Moon. These included meteors and other bodies formed in our own atmosphere. That was the scientific explanation for what they observed at the time, and it is my answer now.”

“On again, then,” replied Ardan; “Herschel, in 1787, observed a great number of luminous points on the moon’s surface, did he not?”

“Let's go on, then,” replied Ardan. “In 1787, Herschel saw many bright points on the moon's surface, didn't he?”

“Yes! but without offering any solution of them. Herschel himself never inferred from them the necessity of a lunar atmosphere. And I may add that Baeer and Maedler, the two great authorities upon the moon, are quite agreed as to the entire absence of air on its surface.”

“Yes! But he offered no solution to them. Herschel himself never concluded from them that the moon must have an atmosphere. I may add that Baeer and Maedler are the two leading authorities on the moon. They both agree that there is no air at all on its surface.”

A movement was here manifest among the assemblage, who appeared to be growing excited by the arguments of this singular personage.

At this point, the crowd stirred. They seemed to be growing excited by this unusual man's arguments.

“Let us proceed,” replied Ardan, with perfect coolness, “and come to one important fact. A skillful French astronomer, M. Laussedat, in watching the eclipse of July 18, 1860, probed that the horns of the lunar crescent were rounded and truncated. Now, this appearance could only have been produced by a deviation of the solar rays in traversing the atmosphere of the moon. There is no other possible explanation of the facts.”

“Let's continue,” replied Ardan calmly, “and consider one important fact. M. Laussedat, a skilled French astronomer, watched the eclipse of July 18, 1860. He established that the tips of the lunar crescent appeared rounded and cut off. This appearance could only have been caused by sunlight bending as it passed through the moon's atmosphere. There is no other possible explanation for these facts.”

“But is this established as a fact?”

“But has this been established as a fact?”

“Absolutely certain!”

“Absolutely certain!”

A counter-movement here took place in favor of the hero of the meeting, whose opponent was now reduced to silence. Ardan resumed the conversation; and without exhibiting any exultation at the advantage he had gained, simply said:

The crowd now rallied in support of the meeting's hero, and his opponent fell silent. Ardan resumed the conversation. Without showing any triumph at the advantage he had gained, he simply said:

“You see, then, my dear sir, we must not pronounce with absolute positiveness against the existence of an atmosphere in the moon. That atmosphere is, probably, of extreme rarity; nevertheless at the present day science generally admits that it exists.”

“You see, then, my dear sir, we cannot say with absolute certainty that the moon has no atmosphere. Its atmosphere is probably extremely thin. Nevertheless, science generally accepts today that it exists.”

“Not in the mountains, at all events,” returned the unknown, unwilling to give in.

“Not in the mountains, anyway,” replied the stranger, unwilling to give in.

“No! but at the bottom of the valleys, and not exceeding a few hundred feet in height.”

“No! But at the bottom of the valleys, and no more than a few hundred feet high.”

“In any case you will do well to take every precaution, for the air will be terribly rarified.”

“In any case, you should take every precaution, because the air will be extremely thin.”

“My good sir, there will always be enough for a solitary individual; besides, once arrived up there, I shall do my best to economize, and not to breathe except on grand occasions!”

“My good sir, there will always be enough for one person. Besides, once I get up there, I’ll do my best to save it and breathe only on special occasions!”

A tremendous roar of laughter rang in the ears of the mysterious interlocutor, who glared fiercely round upon the assembly.

A tremendous roar of laughter rang in the mysterious speaker's ears. The speaker glared fiercely around at the crowd.

“Then,” continued Ardan, with a careless air, “since we are in accord regarding the presence of a certain atmosphere, we are forced to admit the presence of a certain quantity of water. This is a happy consequence for me. Moreover, my amiable contradictor, permit me to submit to you one further observation. We only know one side of the moon’s disc; and if there is but little air on the face presented to us, it is possible that there is plenty on the one turned away from us.”

“Then,” Ardan continued casually, “since we agree that there is some atmosphere, we must admit there is some water. That is good news for me. Besides, my friendly opponent, let me make one more observation. We only know one side of the moon’s disc. If there is little air on the side facing us, there may be plenty on the side facing away.”

“And for what reason?”

“And why?”

“Because the moon, under the action of the earth’s attraction, has assumed the form of an egg, which we look at from the smaller end. Hence it follows, by Hausen’s calculations, that its center of gravity is situated in the other hemisphere. Hence it results that the great mass of air and water must have been drawn away to the other face of our satellite during the first days of its creation.”

“Because the earth’s gravity has given the moon the shape of an egg, which we see from the smaller end. According to Hausen’s calculations, the moon’s center of gravity is therefore in the other hemisphere. As a result, most of the moon’s air and water must have been drawn to its other side during the first days of its creation.”

“Pure fancies!” cried the unknown.

“Pure fantasy!” cried the stranger.

“No! Pure theories! which are based upon the laws of mechanics, and it seems difficult to me to refute them. I appeal then to this meeting, and I put it to them whether life, such as exists upon the earth, is possible on the surface of the moon?”

“No! Pure theories, based on the laws of mechanics, and I find them difficult to refute. So I ask this meeting: Is life like that on Earth possible on the surface of the moon?”

Three hundred thousand auditors at once applauded the proposition. Ardan’s opponent tried to get in another word, but he could not obtain a hearing. Cries and menaces fell upon him like hail.

Three hundred thousand listeners immediately applauded the proposal. Ardan’s opponent tried to say more, but no one would listen. Shouts and threats fell on him like hail.

“Enough! enough!” cried some.

“Enough! Enough!” some shouted.

“Drive the intruder off!” shouted others.

“Drive the intruder away!” others shouted.

“Turn him out!” roared the exasperated crowd.

“Throw him out!” roared the furious crowd.

But he, holding firmly on to the platform, did not budge an inch, and let the storm pass on, which would soon have assumed formidable proportions, if Michel Ardan had not quieted it by a gesture. He was too chivalrous to abandon his opponent in an apparent extremity.

But he held firmly to the platform and did not move an inch. He let the storm pass. It would soon have grown fierce if Michel Ardan had not calmed it with a gesture. Ardan was too chivalrous to abandon his opponent when he seemed to be in serious trouble.

“You wished to say a few more words?” he asked, in a pleasant voice.

“You wanted to say a few more words?” he asked pleasantly.

“Yes, a thousand; or rather, no, only one! If you persevere in your enterprise, you must be a—”

“Yes, a thousand. Or rather, no, only one! If you keep going with your plan, you must be a...”

“Very rash person! How can you treat me as such? me, who have demanded a cylindro-conical projectile, in order to prevent turning round and round on my way like a squirrel?”

“Very reckless, am I? How can you call me that? I insisted on a cylindro-conical projectile so I wouldn’t spin around like a squirrel on the way!”

“But, unhappy man, the dreadful recoil will smash you to pieces at your starting.”

“But, you poor man, the terrible recoil will smash you to pieces when you launch.”

“My dear contradictor, you have just put your finger upon the true and only difficulty; nevertheless, I have too good an opinion of the industrial genius of the Americans not to believe that they will succeed in overcoming it.”

“My dear friend, you have just pointed out the one real difficulty. But I have too much faith in American industrial ingenuity to doubt that Americans will overcome it.”

“But the heat developed by the rapidity of the projectile in crossing the strata of air?”

“But what about the heat generated as the projectile speeds through the air?”

“Oh! the walls are thick, and I shall soon have crossed the atmosphere.”

“Oh! The walls are thick, and I’ll soon be through the atmosphere.”

“But victuals and water?”

“But food and water?”

“I have calculated for a twelvemonth’s supply, and I shall be only four days on the journey.”

“I have planned for a year’s supply, and the journey will take me only four days.”

“But for air to breathe on the road?”

“But what about air to breathe on the journey?”

“I shall make it by a chemical process.”

“I'll make it using a chemical process.”

“But your fall on the moon, supposing you ever reach it?”

“But what about your fall onto the moon, if you ever reach it?”

“It will be six times less dangerous than a sudden fall upon the earth, because the weight will be only one-sixth as great on the surface of the moon.”

“It will be six times less dangerous than a sudden fall to Earth, because weight on the Moon’s surface will be only one-sixth as great.”

“Still it will be enough to smash you like glass!”

“Still, it will be enough to smash you like glass!”

“What is to prevent my retarding the shock by means of rockets conveniently placed, and lighted at the right moment?”

“What would stop me from slowing the impact with rockets placed in the right spots and lit at the right moment?”

“But after all, supposing all difficulties surmounted, all obstacles removed, supposing everything combined to favor you, and granting that you may arrive safe and sound in the moon, how will you come back?”

“But after all, suppose you overcome all the difficulties and remove all the obstacles. Suppose everything works in your favor, and you reach the moon safe and sound. How will you come back?”

“I am not coming back!”

“I am not coming back!”

At this reply, almost sublime in its very simplicity, the assembly became silent. But its silence was more eloquent than could have been its cries of enthusiasm. The unknown profited by the opportunity and once more protested:

At this reply, almost sublime in its simplicity, the assembly fell silent. But its silence spoke more powerfully than cheers could have. The stranger took the opportunity to protest once more:

“You will inevitably kill yourself!” he cried; “and your death will be that of a madman, useless even to science!”

“You will definitely kill yourself!” he cried. “You’ll die like a madman, and your death won’t even help science!”

“Go on, my dear unknown, for truly your prophecies are most agreeable!”

“Go on, my dear stranger, your predictions are truly delightful!”

“It really is too much!” cried Michel Ardan’s adversary. “I do not know why I should continue so frivolous a discussion! Please yourself about this insane expedition! We need not trouble ourselves about you!”

“This is too much!” cried Michel Ardan’s opponent. “I don’t know why I should continue this pointless discussion! Do as you please about this insane expedition! We don’t need to worry about you!”

“Pray don’t stand upon ceremony!”

“Please, don’t be so formal!”

“No! another person is responsible for your act.”

“No! Someone else is responsible for what you did.”

“Who, may I ask?” demanded Michel Ardan in an imperious tone.

“Who, may I ask?” Michel Ardan demanded in a commanding tone.

“The ignoramus who organized this equally absurd and impossible experiment!”

“The fool who organized this experiment, which is both absurd and impossible!”

The attack was direct. Barbicane, ever since the interference of the unknown, had been making fearful efforts of self-control; now, however, seeing himself directly attacked, he could restrain himself no longer. He rose suddenly, and was rushing upon the enemy who thus braved him to the face, when all at once he found himself separated from him.

The attack was direct. Ever since the stranger had intervened, Barbicane had struggled desperately to control himself. But now that he was being attacked directly, he could no longer hold back. He jumped up and rushed at the enemy who had openly defied him. Suddenly, someone or something separated them.

The platform was lifted by a hundred strong arms, and the president of the Gun Club shared with Michel Ardan triumphal honors. The shield was heavy, but the bearers came in continuous relays, disputing, struggling, even fighting among themselves in their eagerness to lend their shoulders to this demonstration.

A hundred strong arms lifted the platform. The president of the Gun Club shared the triumphant honors with Michel Ardan. The shield was heavy, but bearers took turns carrying it in a steady stream. They argued, struggled, and even fought among themselves, eager to lend their shoulders to the celebration.

However, the unknown had not profited by the tumult to quit his post. Besides he could not have done it in the midst of that compact crowd. There he held on in the front row with crossed arms, glaring at President Barbicane.

However, the stranger had not used the commotion as a chance to leave his place. Besides, he could not have left in the middle of such a tightly packed crowd. He stayed there in the front row, arms crossed, glaring at President Barbicane.

The shouts of the immense crowd continued at their highest pitch throughout this triumphant march. Michel Ardan took it all with evident pleasure. His face gleamed with delight. Several times the platform seemed seized with pitching and rolling like a weatherbeaten ship. But the two heros of the meeting had good sea-legs. They never stumbled; and their vessel arrived without dues at the port of Tampa Town.

The huge crowd shouted at full volume throughout the triumphant march. Michel Ardan clearly enjoyed it all. His face glowed with delight. Several times, the platform seemed to pitch and roll like a storm-battered ship. But the two heroes of the meeting had good sea legs. They never stumbled, and their vessel reached the port of Tampa Town without paying any fees.

Michel Ardan managed fortunately to escape from the last embraces of his vigorous admirers. He made for the Hotel Franklin, quickly gained his chamber, and slid under the bedclothes, while an army of a hundred thousand men kept watch under his windows.

Luckily, Michel Ardan managed to escape the last embraces of his enthusiastic admirers. He headed for the Hotel Franklin, hurried to his room, and slipped under the covers. Outside his windows, an army of a hundred thousand men kept watch.

During this time a scene, short, grave, and decisive, took place between the mysterious personage and the president of the Gun Club.

Meanwhile, a brief, serious, and decisive encounter took place between the mysterious figure and the president of the Gun Club.

Barbicane, free at last, had gone straight at his adversary.

At last free, Barbicane had gone straight at his opponent.

“Come!” he said shortly.

“Come!” he said curtly.

The other followed him on the quay; and the two presently found themselves alone at the entrance of an open wharf on Jones’ Fall.

The other man followed him along the dock. Soon, the two were alone at the entrance to an open wharf on Jones’ Fall.

The two enemies, still mutually unknown, gazed at each other.

The two enemies, who still did not know each other, stared at each other.

“Who are you?” asked Barbicane.

“Who are you?” asked Barbicane.

“Captain Nicholl!”

“Captain Nicholl!”

“So I suspected. Hitherto chance has never thrown you in my way.”

“So I suspected. Until now, we have never happened to meet.”

“I am come for that purpose.”

“I came for that purpose.”

“You have insulted me.”

“You have insulted me.”

“Publicly!”

“Publicly!”

“And you will answer to me for this insult?”

“And will you answer to me for this insult?”

“At this very moment.”

“Right now.”

“No! I desire that all that passes between us shall be secret. Their is a wood situated three miles from Tampa, the wood of Skersnaw. Do you know it?”

“No! I want everything that passes between us to remain secret. There is a wood called Skersnaw, three miles from Tampa. Do you know it?”

“I know it.”

“I know it.”

“Will you be so good as to enter it to-morrow morning at five o’clock, on one side?”

“Would you please enter it on one side tomorrow morning at five o’clock?”

“Yes! if you will enter at the other side at the same hour.”

“Yes! If you enter from the other side at the same time.”

“And you will not forget your rifle?” said Barbicane.

“And you won't forget your rifle?” said Barbicane.

“No more than you will forget yours?” replied Nicholl.

“No more than you’ll forget yours?” Nicholl replied.

These words having been coldly spoken, the president of the Gun Club and the captain parted. Barbicane returned to his lodging; but instead of snatching a few hours of repose, he passed the night in endeavoring to discover a means of evading the recoil of the projectile, and resolving the difficult problem proposed by Michel Ardan during the discussion at the meeting.

After these cold words, the president of the Gun Club and the captain parted. Barbicane returned to his lodgings. But instead of getting a few hours of sleep, he spent the night trying to find a way to avoid the projectile's recoil. He also tried to solve the difficult problem Michel Ardan had raised during the discussion at the meeting.