Count Timascheff’s desire to return to the world was quite equaled by Lieutenant Procope’s. The Russian sailors’ only thought was to follow their master, wherever he went. The Spaniards, though they would have been unconcerned to know that they were to remain upon Gallia, were nevertheless looking forward with some degree of pleasure to revisiting the plains of Andalusia; and Nina and Pablo were only too delighted at the prospect of accompanying their kind protectors on any fresh excursion whatever.
The only malcontent was Palmyrin Rosette. Day and night he persevered in his astronomical pursuits, declared his intention of never abandoning his comet, and swore positively that nothing should induce him to set foot in the car of the balloon.
The misfortune that had befallen his telescope was a never-ending theme of complaint; and just now, when Gallia was entering the narrow zone of shooting-stars, and new discoveries might have been within his reach, his loss made him more inconsolable than ever. In sheer desperation, he endeavored to increase the intensity of his vision by applying to his eyes some belladonna which he found in the Dobryna’s medicine chest; with heroic fortitude he endured the tortures of the experiment, and gazed up into the sky until he was nearly blind. But all in vain; not a single fresh discovery rewarded his sufferings.
No one was quite exempt from the feverish excitement which prevailed during the last days of December. Lieutenant Procope superintended his final arrangements. The two low masts of the schooner had been erected firmly on the shore, and formed supports for the montgolfier, which had been duly covered with the netting, and was ready at any moment to be inflated. The car was close at hand. Some inflated skins had been attached to its sides, so that the balloon might float for a time, in the event of its descending in the sea at a short distance from the shore. If unfortunately, it should come down in mid-ocean, nothing but the happy chance of some passing vessel could save them all from the certain fate of being drowned.
The 31st came. Twenty-four hours hence and the balloon, with its large living freight, would be high in the air. The atmosphere was less buoyant than that of the earth, but no difficulty in ascending was to be apprehended.
Gallia was now within 96,000,000 miles of the sun, consequently not much more than 4,000,000 miles from the earth; and this interval was being diminished at the rate of nearly 208,000 miles an hour, the speed of the earth being about 70,000 miles, that of the comet being little less than 138,000 miles an hour.
It was determined to make the start at two o’clock, three-quarters of an hour, or, to speak correctly 42 minutes 35.6 seconds, before the time predicted by the professor as the instant of collision. The modified rotation of the comet caused it to be daylight at the time.
An hour previously the balloon was inflated with perfect success, and the car was securely attached to the network. It only awaited the stowage of the passengers.
Isaac Hakkabut was the first to take his place in the car. But scarcely had he done so, when Servadac noticed that his waist was encompassed by an enormous girdle that bulged out to a very extraordinary extent. “What’s all this, Hakkabut?” he asked.
“It’s only my little bit of money, your Excellency; my modest little fortune— a mere bagatelle,” said the Jew.
“And what may your little fortune weigh?” inquired the captain.
“Only about sixty-six pounds!” said Isaac.
“Sixty-six pounds!” cried Servadac. “We haven’t reckoned for this.”
“Merciful heavens!” began the Jew.
“Sixty-six pounds!” repeated Servadac. “We can hardly carry ourselves; we can’t have any dead weight here. Pitch it out, man, pitch it out!”
“God of Israel!” whined Hakkabut.
“Out with it, I say!” cried Servadac.
“What, all my money, which I have saved so long, and toiled for so hard?”
“It can’t be helped,” said the captain, unmoved.
“Oh, your Excellency!” cried the Jew.
“Now, old Nicodemus, listen to me,” interposed Ben Zoof; “you just get rid of that pouch of yours, or we will get rid of you. Take your choice. Quick, or out you go!”