FIRE!
The first of December had arrived! the fatal day! for, if the projectile
were not discharged that very night at 10h. 46m. 40s. p.m., more than
eighteen years must roll by before the moon would again present herself
under the same conditions of zenith and perigee.
The weather was magnificent. Despite the approach of winter, the sun
shone brightly, and bathed in its radiant light that earth which three
of its denizens were about to abandon for a new world.
How many persons lost their rest on the night which preceded this
long-expected day! All hearts beat with disquietude, save only the heart
of Michel Ardan. That imperturbable personage came and went with his
habitual business-like air, while nothing whatever denoted that any
unusual matter preoccupied his mind.
After dawn, an innumerable multitude covered the prairie which extends,
as far as the eye can reach, round Stones Hill. Every quarter of an hour
the railway brought fresh accessions of sightseers; and, according to
the statement of the _Tampa Town Observer_, not less than five millions
of spectators thronged the soil of Florida.
For a whole month previously, the mass of these persons had bivouacked
round the enclosure, and laid the foundations for a town which was
afterwards called "Ardan's Town." The whole plain was covered with huts,
cottages, and tents. Every nation under the sun was represented there;
and every language might be heard spoken at the same time. It was a
perfect Babel re-enacted. All the various classes of American society were
mingled together in terms of absolute equality. Bankers, farmers, sailors,
cotton-planters, brokers, merchants, watermen, magistrates, elbowed
each other in the most free-and-easy way. Louisiana Creoles fraternised
with farmers from Indiana; Kentucky and Tennessee gentlemen and haughty
Virginians conversed with trappers and the half-savages of the lakes
and butchers from Cincinnati. Broad-brimmed white hats and Panamas, blue
cotton trowsers, light coloured stockings, cambric frills, were all here
displayed; while upon shirt-fronts, wristbands, and neckties, upon every
finger, even upon the very _ears_, they wore an assortment of rings,
shirt-pins, brooches, and trinkets, of which the value only equalled
the execrable taste. Women, children, and servants, in equally expensive
dress, surrounded their husbands, fathers, or masters, who resembled the
patriarchs of tribes in the midst of their immense households.
At meal-times, all fell to work upon the dishes peculiar to the Southern
States, and consumed with an appetite that threatened speedy exhaustion
of the victualling powers of Florida, fricasseed frogs, stuffed monkey,
fish chowder, underdone 'possum, and raccoon steaks. And as for the
liquors which accompanied this indigestible repast! The shouts, the
vociferations that resounded through the bars and taverns decorated with
glasses, tankards, and bottles of marvellous shape, mortars for pounding
sugar, and bundles of straws! "Mint-julep!" roars one of the barmen;
"Claret sangaree!" shouts another; "Cocktail!" "Brandy-smash!" "Real
mint-julep in the new style!" All these cries intermingled produced a
bewildering and deafening hubbub.
But on this day, 1st December, such sounds were rare. No one thought
of eating or drinking, and at four p.m. there were vast numbers of
spectators who had not even taken their customary lunch! And, a still
more significant fact, even the national passion for play seemed quelled
for the time under the general excitement of the hour.
Up till nightfall, a dull, noiseless agitation, such as precedes great
catastrophes, ran through the anxious multitude. An indescribable
uneasiness pervaded all minds, an indefinable sensation which oppressed
the heart. Every one wished it was over.
However, about seven o'clock, the heavy silence was dissipated. The moon
rose above the horizon. Millions of hurrahs hailed her appearance. She
was punctual to the rendezvous, and shouts of welcome greeted her on all
sides, as her pale beams shone gracefully in the clear heavens. At this
moment the three intrepid travellers appeared. This was the signal for
renewed cries of still greater intensity. Instantly the vast assemblage,
as with one accord, struck up the national hymn of the United States,
and "Yankee Doodle," sung by five millions of hearty throats, rose like a
roaring tempest to the farthest limits of the atmosphere. Then a profound
silence reigned throughout the crowd.
The Frenchman and the two Americans had by this time entered the enclosure
reserved in the centre of the multitude. They were accompanied by the
members of the Gun Club, and by deputations sent from all the European
Observatories. Barbicane, cool and collected, was giving his final
directions. Nicholl, with compressed lips, his arms crossed behind his
back, walked with a firm and measured step. Michel Ardan, always easy,
dressed in thorough traveller's costume, leathern gaiters on his legs,
pouch by his side, in loose velvet suit, cigar in mouth, was full of
inexhaustible gaiety, laughing, joking, playing pranks with J. T. Maston.
In one word, he was the thorough "Frenchman" (and worse, a "Parisian")
to the last moment.
Ten o'clock struck! The moment had arrived for taking their places in the
projectile! The necessary operations for the descent, and the subsequent
removal of the cranes and scaffolding that inclined over the mouth of
the Columbiad, required a certain period of time.
Barbicane had regulated his chronometer to the tenth part of a second by
that of Murchison the engineer, who was charged with the duty of firing
the gun by means of an electric spark. Thus the travellers enclosed
within the projectile were enabled to follow with their eyes the impassive
needle which marked the precise moment of their departure.
The moment had arrived for saying "Good-bye!" The scene was a touching
one. Despite his feverish gaiety, even Michel Ardan was touched. J. T.
Maston had found in his own dry eyes one ancient tear, which he had
doubtless reserved for the occasion. He dropped it on the forehead of
his dear president.
"Can I not go?" he said, "there is still time!"
"Impossible, old fellow!" replied Barbicane. A few moments later, the
three fellow-travellers had ensconced themselves in the projectile, and
screwed down the plate which covered the entrance-aperture. The mouth of
the Columbiad, now completely disencumbered, was open entirely to the
sky.
The moon advanced upwards in a heaven of the purest clearness, outshining
in her passage the twinkling light of the stars. She passed over the
constellation of the Twins, and was now nearing the halfway point between
the horizon and the zenith. A terrible silence weighed upon the entire
scene! Not a breath of wind upon the earth! not a sound of breathing
from the countless chests of the spectators! Their hearts seemed afraid
to beat! All eyes were fixed upon the yawning mouth of the Columbiad.
Murchison followed with his eye the hand of his chronometer. It wanted
scarce forty seconds to the moment of departure, but each second seemed
to last an age! At the twentieth there was a general shudder, as it
occurred to the minds of that vast assemblage that the bold travellers
shut up within the projectile were also counting those terrible seconds.
Some few cries here and there escaped the crowd.
"Thirty-five!—thirty-six!—thirty-seven!—thirty-eight!—thirty-nine!
—forty! Fire!!!"
Illustration: FIRE.
Instantly Murchison pressed with his finger the key of the electric
battery, restored the current of the fluid, and discharged the spark into
the breach of the Columbiad.
An appalling unearthly report followed instantly, such as can be compared
to nothing whatever known, not even to the roar of thunder, or the blast
of volcanic explosions! No words can convey the slightest idea of the
terrific sound! An immense spout of fire shot up from the bowels of the
earth as from a crater. The earth heaved up, and with great difficulty
some few spectators obtained a momentary glimpse of the projectile
victoriously cleaving the air in the midst of the fiery vapours!