The Purchase of the North Pole, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 8–20

by Jules Verne
Published in French as Sans dessus dessous in 1889
Published in Amazing Stories, October 1926, pp. 616-635.

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE. Jules Verne has taken us to America. A rich widow in love with the mathematician backs a proposition to change the inclination of the earth’s axis to the ecliptic, so as to bring it vertical thereto, then there will be no change of seasons; only day and night will be left. They anticipate that the North Pole will then be accessible and that they will find there great coal deposits. There is the usual shareholders’ meeting and everything seems in a fair way to progress in great triumph. But a lightning stroke upsets the mathematical calculations.

INTRODUCTION. In the second and final installment we find our favorite author continuing this classic tale in a lighter vein. Is it possible for the earth’s axis to be changed by any human agency? Evidently our hero, Mr. J.T. Maston, one of the world’s greatest mathematicians, ought to know, because was it not he who successfully made the careful calculations of the projectile that took a number of travelers on a trip from the earth to the moon, and around it?

Indeed, J.T. Maston was not wrong. He knew his mathematics. But then, on the other hand, there are many other things in the universe outside of mathematics, and Jules Verne, in his inimitable manner, shows us all of these in his concluding chapters.

Excellent science, excellent humor, and an excellent author make a combination hard to beat.

8B. What Causes the Seasons?

In the first place, during the diurnal rotation of Jupiter, which occupies nine hours, 55 minutes, the days are always equal to the nights in all latitudes; that is to say, the Jovian day is four hours, 57 minutes long, and the Jovian night lasts also four hours and 57 minutes.

“There,” said the admirers of Jovian existence, “you have something suited to people of regular habits. They will be delighted to submit to such regularity.”

That is what would happen to the Earth if Barbicane did what he promised, only as the new axis would make no difference in the time of rotation, 24 hours would still separate the successive noons, and our spheroid would be blessed with nights and days each 12 hours long, and we should live in a perpetual equinox.

“But the climatal phenomena would be much more curious; and no less interesting,” said the enthusiasts, “would be the absence of the seasons.”

Owing to the inclination of the axis to the plane of the orbit, we have the annual changes known as spring, summer, autumn, and winter. The Jovians could know nothing of these things, and the Terrestrians would know them no more. The moment the new axis became perpendicular to the ecliptic there would be neither frigid zones nor torrid zones, but the whole Earth would rejoice in a temperate climate.

Why was this?

What is the torrid zone? It is that part of the Earth comprised between the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn. Every place within this zone has the Sun in the zenith twice a year.

What are the temperate zones? The part comprised between the tropics and the polar circles; between 23°28′ and 66°32′ of latitude, and in which the Sun never rises to the zenith, but is above the horizon on every day in the year.

What are the frigid zones? That part of the circumpolar regions in which the Sun does not rise above the horizon on every day in the year; while at the pole itself he does not rise for six months at a time.

The height of the Sun above the horizon is the cause of the excessive heat of the torrid zone, the moderate heat of the temperate zone, and the excessive cold within the polar circles.

When the axis became perpendicular these things would be different. The Sun would remain on the plane of the equator. All the year round he would pursue his imperturbable 12-hour course, and rise to a distance from the zenith according to the latitude of the place. In countries of 20 degrees of latitude he would rise 70 degrees above the horizon; in countries of 49 degrees of latitude he would rise 41; in places of 84 degrees he would rise six, and of 90 degrees (the pole), he would just peep half his diameter above the horizon. The days would be perfectly regular, and the Sun would rise at the same time, and also at the same point on the horizon, throughout the year.

“Look at the advantages!” said the friends of Barbicane. “Every man, according to his temperament, can choose his own climate, which will be invariable!”

Those modern Titans, the North Polar Practical Association, were going to effect a complete change in the state of things which had existed ever since the spheroid had been launched on its orbit to become the Earth as we know it.

The astronomer might lose a few of the familiar constellations; the poet might lose the long winter nights and the long summer days that figure so frequently in modern verse; but what of that when we think of the advantages that would be enjoyed by the majority of the human race?

As the newspapers in the Barbicane interest pointed out, the products of the Earth being reduced to regularity, the farmer could always plant and sow in the most favorable temperature.

“Be it so!” said the opposition. “But are we to have no rains, or hail, or storms, or waterspouts, or other odds and ends that make matters pleasant for the depressed agriculturist?”

“You may have them, of course,” said the Barbicanians, “but they will probably be rarer, owing to the regularity of the climate having its effect on the troubles of the atmosphere! Yes, humanity will profit greatly by the new state of things. It will be quite a transformation of the terrestrial globe. Barbicane & Co. will have conferred much good on the present and future generations by destroying the inequality of the days and nights and the irritating diversity of the seasons!”

And the New York Sun of the 27th of December concluded one of its most eloquent articles:

“Honor to Impey Barbicane and his colleagues! Not only will they have made the Earth more hygienically habitable, but they will have made it more productive; for then we can sow as soon as we have harvested, for no time will be wasted over the winter. Not only will our coal supplies be increased by the new fields, which will insure a supply for many long years, but the climatal conditions will be altered to our great advantage! Honor, then, to Barbicane & Co., who will take the first rank among the benefactors of mankind!”

9. Vitriolic Alcide

Such were the advantages promised by Barbicane’s changing the axis of rotation—a change, however, which would only slightly affect the movement of our spheroid round the Sun. The Earth would continue to describe its orbit through space, and the conditions of the solar year would remain the same.

When the consequences of the change of axis were brought to the knowledge of the world, they caused extraordinary excitement. At first this problem of the higher mechanics received an enthusiastic welcome. The idea of having seasons of constant equality, and, according to the latitude, “to suit consumers,” was very attractive. The crowd reveled in the thought that they could enjoy the perpetual spring which the bard of Telemachus accorded to the Island of Calypso, and that they could have the spring either fresh or mild. Where the new axis was to be seemed to be the secret of Barbicane, Nicholl, and J.T. Maston, which they were in no hurry to present to the public. Would they reveal it in advance, or would it be known after the experiment? It would be as well to say so, perhaps, as opinion began to show signs of anxiety in the matter.

One observation occurred naturally to the mind, and was at once commented on in the newspapers. By what mechanical means was the change to be produced, which evidently required the employment of an enormous force?

The Forum, an important New York review, very justly remarked: “If the Earth did not turn on its axis, it is probable that a relatively feeble shock would suffice to give a movement of rotation round an axis arbitrarily chosen; but the Earth is like an enormous gyroscope moving at high velocity, and it is a natural law that such an apparatus has a tendency to turn round the same axis, as Foucault demonstrated in his well-known experiments. It will therefore be very difficult, if not impossible, to shift it.”

But after asking what would be the effort required by the engineers of the North Polar Practical Association, it was at least as interesting to know if the effort was to be suddenly or insensibly applied. And if it was to be a sudden effort, would not the proceedings of Messrs. Barbicane & Co. produce some rather alarming catastrophes on the face of the Earth?

Here was something to occupy the brains of the wise and foolish. A shock is a shock, and it is never agreeable to receive the blow or the counter-blow. There was a likelihood that the promoters of the enterprise had been so busy with the advantages the world was to possess that they had overlooked the destruction the operation would entail. And with considerable cleverness the Major and his allies made the most of this, and began to agitate public opinion against the president of the Gun Club.

Although France had taken no part in the syndicating, and officially treated the matter with disdain, yet there was in that country an individual who conceived the idea of setting out for Baltimore, to follow, for his own private satisfaction, the different phases of the enterprise.

He was a mining engineer of about 35 years of age. He had been the first on the list when admitted to the Polytechnic School, and he had been the first on the list when he left it, so that he must have been a mathematician of the first order, and probably superior to J.T. Maston, who, though he was a long way above the average, was only a calculator after all—that is to say, what Leverrier was compared to Newton or Laplace.

This engineer was a man of brains, and—though he was none the worse for that—somewhat of a humorist, and an original. In conversation with his intimates, even when he talked science, his language was more that of the slang of the streets than of the academical formulæ he employed when he wrote. He was a wonderful worker, being accustomed to sit for 10 hours at a stretch before his table, writing pages on pages of algebra with as much ease as he would have written a letter.

This singular man was called Pierdeux (Alcide), and in his way of condensing it—as is the custom of his comrades—he generally signed himself APierd, or even APı, without even dotting the i. He was so perfervid in his discussions that he had been named Vitriolic Alcide. Not only was he big, but he was tall. His friends affirmed that his height was exactly the five millionth part of a quarter of the meridian, and they were not far out. Although his head was rather too small for his powerful bust and shoulders, yet he held it well, and piercing were the eyes that looked through his pince-nez. He was chiefly distinguished by one of those physiognomies in which gaiety and gravity intermingle, and his hair had been prematurely thinned by the abuse of algebraic signs under the light of the gas-lamps in the study.

He was one of the best fellows whose memory lingers at the school. Although his character was independent enough, he was always loyal to the requirements of Code X, which is law among the Polytechnicians in all that concerns comradeship and respect for the uniform. He was equally appreciated under the trees of the court of “Acas,” so named because there are no acacias, as in the “casers,” the dormitories, in which the arrangements of his box, and the order that reigned in his “coffin,” denoted an absolutely methodical mind.

That the head of Alcide Pierdeux was a little too small for his body we admit, but that it was filled to the meninges will be believed. Above all things, he was a mathematician like all his comrades are, or have been, but he only used his mathematics in application to experimental science, whose chief attraction to him was that it had much to do with industry. Herein he recognized the inferior side of his nature. No one is perfect. His strong point was the study of those sciences which, notwithstanding their immense progress, have, and always will have, secrets for their followers.

Alcide was still a bachelor. He was still “equal to one,” as he phrased it, although he had no objection to become “the half of two.” His friends had had ideas of marrying him to a very charming girl at Martigues. But, unfortunately, she had a father, who responded to the first overtures in the following “martigalade”: “No, your Alcide is too clever! He talks to my poor girl in a way that is unintelligible to her!”

And hence Alcide resolved to take a year’s holiday, and thought he could not employ his time better than in following the North Polar Practical Association in its peculiar undertaking.

As soon as he arrived at Baltimore he began to think over the matter seriously. That the Earth would become Jovian by the change of its axis mattered very little to him. But by what means it was to be brought about excited his curiosity, and not without reason.

In his picturesque language he said to himself, “Evidently Barbicane is going to give our ball a terrible knock; but what sort of a knock? Everything depends on that! I suppose he is going to play for ‘side,’ as if with a cue at a billiard-ball; but if he hits us ‘square’ he may jolt us out of our orbit, and then the years will dance to a pretty tune. They are going to shift the old axis for a new one, probably above it, but I do not see where they are to get their taking-off place from, or how they are to manage the knock. If there was no rotation, a mere flip would suffice, but they can’t put down that diurnal spin. That is the canisdentum.”

He meant “the rub,” but that was his way of expressing himself.

“Whatever they do,” he continued, “there will be no end of a row before it is over.”

Try all he could, the engineer could not discover Barbicane’s plan, which for one reason was much to be regretted, as if it had been known to him he would at once have made the calculations he needed.

But all at present was a mystery. And so it happened that on the 29th of December Alcide Pierdeux, “Ingénieur au Corps National des Mines de France,” was hurrying with lengthy strides through the crowded streets of Baltimore.

10. A Change in Public Opinion

A month had elapsed since the meeting in the rooms of the Gun Club, and a change had taken place in public opinion.

The advantages of altering the axis of rotation were being forgotten; and the disadvantages were being enlarged upon. It was impossible that a catastrophe could be avoided, for any change must necessarily be occasioned by a violent shock. What the catastrophe would be no one could say. Was this amelioration of climate desirable? Who would gain by it except the Eskimos, Laps, and Samoyeds, who had nothing to lose?

The Major and his allies were indefatigable in their prophecies of evil.

“It is evident,” said Karkof, “that the projectors will do all they can to protect the United States from the consequences of the shock.”

“But can they?” asked Harald. “When you shake a tree all the branches shake.”

“And,” said the Dutchman, “when you are hit in the stomach does not your whole body shake?”

“That is what that famous clause meant!” said Todrin. “Here are the geographical and meteorological modifications!”

“Yes,” said Baldenak. “But suppose the change of axis throws the seas out of their existing basins?”

“And if the ocean level is lowered at different points,” said Jansen, “some people may find themselves so high up in the world that communication with them will be impossible!”

“If they go up too high they will not be able to breathe!” said Harald.

“Would you like to see Baltimore as high as Mont Blanc?” asked Donellan.

This modification of the axis was evidently a public danger. A change of 23°28′ would produce a considerable displacement in the seas, owing to the flattening at the poles. The Earth was thus threatened with similar disasters to those that, it is believed, have recently occurred in Mars. There entire continents, among others Libya and Schiaparelli, have been submerged, as shown by the faint blue replacing the faint red. Lake Moeris has disappeared. North and south there have been changes, and the oceans have withdrawn from many localities they formerly occupied. If a few charitable souls have been much affected at the “floods in Mars”—almost as much as to open subscriptions for the sufferers—what would they do for the floods on the Earth?

Protests came in by every post. The United States government was urged to interfere.

“Look at these Yankees,” said one. “They want to hang the globe on another axletree! As if the old one, after all these centuries, had worn out! But is it not as sound as it was at the beginning?”

And there was Vitriolic Alcide at work trying to find out the nature and direction of the shock that J.T. Maston had arranged. Once master of the secret, he would very soon know what parts of the Earth were in danger.

It was not likely that the United States would suffer. Barbicane & Co. were quite Yankees enough to take care of their own country. Evidently the new continent between the Arctic Sea and the Gulf of Mexico had nothing to fear. It was even possible that North America would gain a considerable accession of territory.

“That may be,” said the nervous people who only saw the perilous side of things. “But are you sure? Supposing J.T. Maston has made a mistake? Supposing Barbicane makes a mistake when he puts Maston’s theory in practice? Such a thing can happen to the cleverest artillerists! They do not always score a bull’s-eye!”

These fears were sedulously worked upon by the Major and the opposition. Todrin published a number of articles in a leading Canadian newspaper. Harald rushed into print in a Swedish journal. Colonel Boris Karkof tried his hand in a Russian one. The Americans began to take sides. The New York Tribune and the Boston Journal took up their parable against Barbicane. In vain the North Polar Practical Association tried to stem the rising tide. In vain Mrs. Scorbitt paid $10 a line for serious articles, humorous articles, and smart, scathing paragraphs treating the dangers as chimerical. In vain the enthusiastic widow endeavored to show that if ever hypothesis was unjustifiable, it was that which assumed that J.T. Maston was capable of an error!

Neither Barbicane nor his co-directors took the trouble to say anything. They let the talk go on without making any change in their habits. They seemed to be thoroughly absorbed in the immense preparations necessitated by their undertaking. The revulsion of public opinion seemed to concern them not in the least.

But in spite of all Mrs. Scorbitt could do, it soon came about that Impey Barbicane, Captain Nicholl, and J.T. Maston began to be looked upon as dangers to society. So high grew the clamor that the federal government had to interfere, and call upon them to declare their intentions. What were their means of action? How did they intend to substitute one axis for another? What would be the consequences of the substitution? What parts of the globe would the substitution endanger?

The excitement raging in every state in the Union allowed of no hesitation on the part of the Washington government. A Commission of Inquiry, composed of engineers, mathematicians, hydrographers, and geographers, to the number of 50, presided over by the celebrated John Prestice, was appointed on the 19th of February, with full powers to investigate the affair, and put a stop to it if necessary.

Impey Barbicane was requested to attend before the Commission. Barbicane did not come.

The police went to look for him at his residence, 95, Cleveland Street, Baltimore. Barbicane was there no longer.

Where was he? They did not know.

When had he gone away? Five weeks ago, on the 11th of January, he had left Maryland in company with Captain Nicholl.

Where had they gone? No one could say.

Evidently the two members of the Gun Club were on their way to the mysterious region where preparations would begin under their direction.

But where could that be?

It was important to know, if the scheme of these dangerous projectors was to be nipped in the bud.

The effect of this departure of Barbicane and Nicholl was immense. The popular wrath rose like the rising of the equinoctial tide against the North Polar Practical Association.

But there was one man who ought to know what had become of Impey Barbicane and his colleague. There was one who ought to be able to reply, and that instantly. J.T. Maston!

J.T. Maston was requested to appear before the Commission. He did not go!

Had he then left Baltimore? Had he gone with his colleagues, to help in the work of which the world awaited the results with such very natural alarm?

No! J.T. Maston was still to be found at Ballistic Cottage. He was still incessantly at work, but now on other calculations, which he only left to spend an occasional evening with Mrs. Scorbitt at New Park.

A policeman was sent with an order from the president of the Commission. The policeman reached the cottage, knocked at the door, entered the hall, and had a warm reception from Fire-Fire and a cool one from J.T. Maston.

However, the secretary of the Gun Club thought it as well to go quietly, and he appeared before the Commission complaining bitterly of having been interrupted in his occupation.

The first question put to him was, “Do you know the whereabouts of Impey Barbicane and Captain Nicholl?”

“I do,” said J.T. Maston, “but I am not authorized to tell you.”

Second question: “Are these two men occupied in the preparations for their intended modification of the terrestrial axis?”

“That,” said J.T. Maston, “is part of the secret with which I am entrusted, and I refuse to say.”

Would he submit his calculations to the Commission, that they might judge if the project of the Association could be accomplished?

“No, certainly not!” said J.T. Maston. “It is my right as a free American citizen to keep from anybody the result of my work!”

“But if that is your right, Mr. Maston,” said President Prestice solemnly, as if he spoke in the name of the entire world, “it may be your duty to speak in face of the anxiety that exists.”

J.T. Maston did not think it was his duty. He had only one duty—to keep silent; and he would keep silent.

In spite of their persistence, their supplications, their threats, the members of the Commission of Inquiry could get nothing out of the man with the iron hook. Never would they have believed that so much obstinacy lurked within a gutta-percha cranium! J.T. Maston left as he had arrived, and that he was congratulated on his valiant defense by Mrs. Scorbitt we need hardly say.

When the result of J.T. Maston’s appearance was made known, public opinion took a form that was really serious for his safety. The pressure on the government became so great that Secretary John S. Wright had to obtain permission from the President to act manu militari.

On the evening of the 13th of March, J.T. Maston was in his workroom at Ballistic Cottage, absorbed in his algebra, when the bell of the telephone tinkled nervously.

“Hallo, there! Hallo, there!” murmured the instrument in a way that showed great anxiety.

“Who’s there?” asked J.T. Maston.

“Mrs. Scorbitt.”

“What is it?”

“Be on your guard! I have just heard that this very night—”

The sentence had not been finished when the door of Ballistic Cottage was burst open by a push from several shoulders, and up the staircase came an extraordinary tumult. There was a voice protesting; then other voices silencing it; then a bump as of a fallen body—bump, bump—it was the negro, Fire-Fire, rolling downstairs after an unavailing defense of his master’s home—bump, bump; the door of the workroom flew open; policemen rushed in; the excitable Maston seized a revolver; instantly he was disarmed; a policeman laid his hand on the papers on the desk; Maston slipped free and dashed at a notebook; the police were after him; before they could reach him he had torn out the last leaf, clapped it to his mouth, and gulped it down as if it had been a pill!

“Now!” said he in the tone of a Leonidas at Thermopylæ. “Now you can do your duty.”

An hour afterward he was in the jail at Baltimore.

And that was probably the best thing that could have happened to him, for the populace were in such a state of excitement that the police might have found themselves powerless to protect him.

The Contents of the Notebook

The book seized by the Baltimore police contained 30 pages, sprinkled with formulæ, multiplications, equations, and finally the general results of J.T. Maston’s calculation. It was a work of the higher mechanics, appreciable only by mathematicians. One of the equations was the

V²–V²=2gr²(¹⁄ᵣ – ¹⁄ᵣ₆)

of which we heard in the Moon Voyage.

The “general reader” could make neither head nor tail of Maston’s performances; but they could understand the results as communicated to the newspapers a few days afterwards.

There was nothing wrong with J.T. Maston’s working, the Commission reported. The calculations had been made with such precision that the Commission had no doubt as to their accuracy and consequences. If the operation was effected, the terrestrial axis would be undoubtedly changed, and then the catastrophes foreseen would be accomplished in all their plenitude.

“The object,” said the official communication to the newspapers, “of the directorate of the North Polar Practical Association is the substitution of a new axis of rotation for the old one; and it is proposed to attain this object by means of the recoil of an apparatus fixed in some agreed upon point of the Earth’s circumference. If the core of this apparatus is firmly fixed in the ground, there can be no doubt but that it would communicate its recoil to the mass of our planet.

“The apparatus adopted by the Association is a monster cannon, which would have no effect if discharged vertically. To produce the maximum effect it must be aimed horizontally towards the north or south, and it is this latter direction which has been decided on by the Association. In this way the recoil will produce a shock towards the north of the nature of that given to a billiard-ball when struck on the side.”

Exactly as Alcide had foreseen!

“As soon as the explosion takes place, the centre of the Earth will be displaced in a direction parallel to that of the impetus, and a change will ensue in the plane of the orbit, and consequently in the length of the year; but this will be so slight as to be of no appreciable amount. At the same time the Earth would take a movement of rotation around an axis, supposing that no rotation existed previous to the shock. But as the rotation in the line of the poles already exists, it will combine with the accessory rotation produced by the recoil, and result in a new axis. If the gun is fired at the moment when the equator and the ecliptic are in intersection, and if the recoil is enough to displace the Pole 23°28′, then the new axis will become perpendicular to the plane of the orbit.

“The consequences of this perpendicularity were clearly stated by Impey Barbicane at the meeting on the 22nd of December.

“Given the mass of the Earth and the amount of movement it possesses, can a gun be produced having a recoil sufficient to produce such a displacement of the pole as 23°28′?

“Undoubtedly, if a gun, or series of guns, be constructed in accordance with the laws of mechanics, or if the inventors possess an explosive of the necessary power. Such an explosive they unfortunately possess. It was discovered by Captain Nicholl. Its name is meli-melonite, but all that is known of it is that it is a mixture of organic substances with nitric acid. A certain number of monatomic radicles are substituted for the same number of atoms of hydrogen, and a powder is obtained, which, like gun-cotton, is formed by combination, and not by mechanical mixture of the principal comburents and combustibles.

“Whatever this explosive may be, the force it possesses is sufficient to carry a projectile weighing 180,000 tons beyond the terrestrial attraction, and it is hoped by the Association that the recoil will have the effect of displacing the pole, and forming a new axis perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic. From which would result the catastrophes at which the inhabitants of the Earth have taken alarm.

“There is a chance that humanity may yet escape the consequences of an operation which would bring about such regrettable geographical and meteorological changes in the surface of the globe. Is it possible to construct a cannon of the dimensions required? We are of opinion that it is very doubtful if it can be done.

“It is well known that the two chief directors of the North Polar Practical Association have left Baltimore and America, probably for the purpose of attempting the manufacture of this cannon in some distant part of the world.

“Where they have gone to is unknown, and consequently it is impossible to secure the malefactors who would upset the world under pretense of opening up new coal-fields.

“Evidently the place was indicated on the last page of the notebook captured by the police from J.T. Maston. But this last page had disappeared, having been swallowed by the said J.T. Maston, now in prison at Baltimore.

“Such is the position. If Impey Barbicane can make his cannon and his projectile, he will change the Earth’s axis, and within the next six months the Earth will be subjected to his reckless assault.

“A date has been chosen for the discharge of the projectile, the date on which the shock would have its maximum of effect on the terrestrial spheroid.

“This date is the 22nd of September, 12 hours after the passage of the Sun across the meridian of the place x.

“This place it is impossible from the calculations to discover.

“There is nothing in J.T. Maston’s notebook to show the position of the new axis.

“It is therefore impossible to state what territories or seas will be affected by the attempt.

“The difference of level will be considerable. After the shock the surface of the sea will take the form of an ellipsoid of revolution, and the level will change nearly all over the globe.

“In fact the intersection of the level of the old sea with the level of the new sea, of two equal surfaces of revolution with the axes intersecting, will be of two curved planes, and the maxima of elevation or abasement will exceed 25,000 feet.

“It is worthy of remark that the ancient pole will be immersed under more than 9,000 feet of water, so that the district acquired by the North Polar Practical Association will be flooded unless there exists at the pole a plateau of more than that number of feet of elevation.

“Where the maximum of alteration of land will take place is unknown. There is in the equation an unknown quantity, which no known formula can value. This unknown is the position of x, where the shock is to be applied. This x is the secret of the promoters of this deplorable affair.

“In conclusion, it is desirable to point out that all the inhabitants of the Earth are interested in unraveling the secret, for all are menaced by the proceedings of the Association.

“Notice is therefore given to the inhabitants of all parts of the world to keep a strict watch over all operations regarding the founding of cannons, or the fabrication of powders or projectiles taking place on their territories, and to report the appearance of any stranger connected therewith to the Commission of Inquiry at Baltimore, U.S.A.

“It is urgently necessary that the information should reach the Commission before the 22nd of September next, the date on which the established order of the terrestrial system is so seriously menaced.”

12. Heroic Silence

It was a cannon that hurled the projectile up to the Moon; it was to be a cannon that was to change the terrestrial axis! The cannon! Always the cannon! Barbicane and Co. evidently suffered from chronic attacks of aggravated “cannonism”! Was a cannon the ultima ratio of the world? was it to be the brutal sovereign of the universe? The canon rules theology, was the cannon to give the law to commerce and cosmology?

A cannon was the engine Barbicane & Co. were to bring into action. They had not devoted their lives to ballistics for nothing. After the Columbiad of Tampa Town there was to come the monster cannon of—of—the place of x! And already there were people who could hear the sonorous command.

“No. 1! Aim at the Moon! Fire!”

“No. 2! Change the Earth’s axis! Fire!”

And then for the “general upset” predicted by Vitrolic Alcide!

The publication of the report of the Commission produced an effect of which it is impossible even to give an idea. There was nothing in it of a soothing tendency, it must be admitted. By J.T. Maston’s calculations, the problem had evidently been solved. The operation to be attempted by Barbicane & Co. would, it was only too clear, introduce a most regrettable modification in the diurnal movement. A new axis would be substituted for the old. And we know what would be the consequences of that substitution.

The enterprise of Barbicane & Co. was thus judged, cursed, and demitted to general reprobation. Barbicane and Co. were dangers to society. If they retained a few partisans in the United States, the partisans were few indeed.

From the point of view of their own personal safety, Impey Barbicane and Captain Nicholl had certainly done wisely to clear out. They would assuredly have come to grief if they had not done so. It was not with impunity that they could menace 1,400,000,000 people, upset their habits and customs, and disturb their very existence by provoking a general catastrophe.

But how had these two men managed to disappear without leaving a trace? How could they have got away unperceived with the men and material necessary for their project? Hundreds of wagons, if they went by railway, and hundreds of ships, if they went by sea, would be required for the transport of the metal, the fuel, and the meli-melonite. It was quite incomprehensible how the departure could have taken place incognito. But it had taken place nevertheless.

Inquiries were made, but nothing was discovered as to any order being sent to any of the metallurgical or chemical works of the world. It was inexplicable! But the explanation would come—someday!

Barbicane and Nicholl having mysteriously disappeared, were beyond immediate danger. But J.T. Maston! He was under lock and key; but were not public reprisals to be feared? Bah! He did not trouble himself about that in the least! Admirably obstinate was the calculator! He was of iron—like his forearm! At nothing did he quail!

From the depths of his cell in the jail of Baltimore the secretary of the Gun Club became more and more absorbed in the distant contemplation of the colleagues he had not accompanied. In his mind’s eye he could see Barbicane and Nicholl preparing their gigantic enterprise in that unknown region where no one could interfere with them. He saw them making the cannon, mixing the meli-melonite, casting the projectile which the Sun would soon count among its minor asteroids! That new star which was to bear the name of Scorbitta, as a delicate compliment to the millionaire of New Park! J.T. Maston began to count the days that would elapse before the word to fire was given.

It was the month of April. In two months and a half the Sun would halt at the solstice on the Tropic of Cancer and retrograde towards the Tropic of Capricorn. Three months later he would cross the equator at the autumnal equinox. And with that would finish the seasons that for millions of ages had alternated with such regularity in every terrestrial year. For the last time the spheroid would submit to the inequality of its days and nights. For the future the number of hours between sunrise and sunset would be equal all over the globe.

In truth it was a magnificent work! J.T. Maston forgot all about the polar coal-field in contemplating the cosmographical consequences of his labours. The principal object of the Association had been forgotten in the transformations the face of the earth would undergo—notwithstanding that the earth did not care about these magnificent transformations.

J.T. Maston, alone and defenseless in his cell, resisted every pressure brought to bear on him. The members of the Commission of Inquiry visited him daily, and obtained nothing. It occurred at last to John Prestice to make use of an influence that might succeed better than his—that of Mrs. Scorbitt. No one was ignorant of the lengths to which the widow would go when the celebrated calculator was in peril.

There was a meeting of the Commission, and Mrs. Scorbitt was authorized to visit the prisoner as often as she thought fit. Was not she threatened with the danger from the recoil of the monster cannon as much as any other of the world’s inhabitants? Would her New Park mansion escape the final catastrophe any more than the wigwam of the poor Indian or the humble hut of the backwoodsman? Was not her life as much in danger as that of the obscurest Samoyed or South Sea Islander? The president of the Commission elaborately explained this to her, and suggested that she should bring her influence to bear for the general good.

If she could only get J.T. Maston to state where Barbicane and Nicholl had gone, there would still be time to pursue them and save humanity from the impending fate.

And so Mrs. Scorbitt had access to the jail. What she desired above all was to see J.T. Maston, who had been torn by the police from the comforts of his cottage. Let it not be supposed that the heroic Evangelina was a slave to human weakness. And if, on the 9th of April, some indiscreet ear had been applied to the keyhole the first time that the widow appeared in the cell, this is what would have met it:

“At last, dear Maston, I see you again!”

“You, Mrs. Scorbitt!”

“Yes, my friend, after four weeks, four long weeks of separation—”

“Exactly 28 days, five hours, 45 minutes,” said Maston, looking at his watch.

“At last we meet!”

“But why, Mrs. Scorbitt? Why have they allowed you to come here?”

“To use whatever influence a boundless admiration may have on him who is its object!”

“What!” exclaimed J.T. Maston, “you have consented to talk thus to me! You have imagined that I would betray my colleagues?”

“Do you think so meanly of me? I to ask you to sacrifice your safety to your honor? I to urge you to an act which would be the disgrace of a life consecrated to the highest speculations of the higher mechanics?”

“Bravo, Mrs. Scorbitt! I recognize the worthy shareholder of our Association! Never did I doubt your courage!”

“Thank you, dear Maston.”

“As for me, to divulge our work; to reveal at what spot on the surface of the earth our effort is to be made; to sell the secret I fortunately kept hidden within me; to permit these barbarians to launch off in pursuit of our friends, to interrupt the labors they are engaged in for our profit and our glory! I would rather die first!”

“Maston, you are sublime!” said Evangelina.

In truth, these two beings, so closely united in enthusiasm—and equally mad—were born to understand each other.

“No!” continued Maston. “Never shall they know the name of the country which my calculations have designated, and which will become immortal. They may kill me if they will, but they shall never possess my secret.”

“And they may kill me with you,” said Mrs. Scorbitt; “for I also will be dumb.”

“Fortunately, they do not know that you possess the secret.”

“Do you think I am capable of revealing it because I am only a woman? to betray our colleagues and you? No, my friend; no! The philistines may raise the world against you to tear you from your cell, but I will be with you, and we shall have at least the consolation of dying together!”

And that was the way the conversation ended every time the widow visited the prisoner. And every time the Commissioners inquired as to the result the answer was the same.

“Nothing yet; but in time I hope to obtain what you want!”

Oh, the astuteness of woman!

“In time!” she said. But time marched on; weeks went by like days, days like hours, hours like minutes.

It was now May. Mrs. Scorbitt had obtained nothing; and if she had failed, who could hope to succeed? Was the world to resign itself to this terrible blow without a chance of hindering it?

Well, no! in such things resignation is unacceptable. Our friends the delegates were unceasing in fomenting the excitement. Jansen overwhelmed the Commissioners daily. Karkof picked a quarrel with the secretary. Donellan, to make things worse, directed attention to another victim in the shape of the codfish merchant, Forster, who had sunk into insignificance after the auction sale, to bid at which he had been engaged. And in order to bring the phlegmatic fishmonger prominently to the front, the Canadian attempted to knock him down. To complicate matters further, “the friendly powers” began “to bring pressure to bear” on the Washington government, which had quite enough to do to withstand the “pressure” of its own people. In reply the Washington government issued a circular authorizing the arrest of the two “malefactors” by any power whatsoever. But nonetheless did it remain impossible to discover where the malefactors had got to.

Then the Powers hinted that if J.T. Maston were properly dealt with, J.T. Maston would reveal the secret. But the government might as well have tried to extract a word from Harpocrates, the god of silence, or from the chief deaf-mute of the New York Institute.

And then the exasperation increased with the general anxiety, and a few practical minds drew attention to the fact that the torture system of the Middle Ages was not without some advantages. So it was proposed to introduce, for the benefit of J.T. Maston, a few experiments with the “boot,” the “scavenger’s daughter,” “molten lead,” “boiling oil,” “the wooden horse,” the “bastinado,” etc., etc. But such things were impossible in the century which invented the magazine rifle, roburite, bellite, panclastite, and other “ites,” not to mention the far superior meli-melonite.

J.T. Maston had, then, no fear of being put to the torture. All that could be done with him was to hope that he would speak, or that chance would speak for him.

13. A Truly Epic Reply

Time advanced, and so probably did the works of Barbicane & Co., but where, was the mystery.

But if their works were to require a foundry capable of casting a gun a million times larger than a 400-pounder, and a projectile weighing 180,000 tons, they would want thousands of workmen; and where, oh! where could they be?

In what part of the old or new world had Barbicane & Co. installed themselves so secretly as to be invisible to the nations around? Had they gone to some desert island of the Pacific? But there are no desert islands now. That they had gone to the Arctic or Antarctic regions was extremely unlikely, for those were the very regions they intended to displace.

There was no need to look for them all over the world, for J.T. Maston’s notebook had revealed the fact that the shot must be fired from near the equator. Along the equinoctial line, they might be in Brazil or Peru, or Sumatra, or Borneo, or Celebes, or New Guinea, but surely they would have been discovered by the people in the neighborhood? All through Africa, too, they would be almost certain of discovery. There remained the Maldive Islands, the Admiralty, Gilbert, and Christmas Islands, the Galapagos and San Pedro Islands; but all these had been searched, and no trace of Barbicane & Co. had been found.

And what did Alcide Pierdeux think of all this? More “sulphuric” than ever, he knew no rest in considering the different consequences of the problem. That Captain Nicholl had invented an explosive of such power that its expansion was 3,000 or 4,000 times greater than the most violent explosives used in modern war, and 5,600 times stronger than “good old gunpowder,” was, he remarked, “étonnant, not to say détonnant!” but it was not impossible. No one knows what the future has in store for us in that kind of progress. In the shifting of the Earth’s axis by means of the recoil of a gun there was nothing to surprise him.

“It is evident,” he said to himself, “that every day the Earth receives the counter-shock from every shock produced on its surface! It is certain that when hundreds of thousands of men amuse themselves by sending thousands of projectiles weighing pounds, or millions weighing ounces, even when I walk or jump, or when I stretch out my arm, or when a blood corpuscle circulates in my veins, it must in some way influence the mass of our spheroid. But in the name of an integral will Barbicane’s jolt be sufficient to upset the Earth? If the equations of that brute Maston really demonstrate that, we must make up our minds to it!”

In truth, Alcide could not but admire the ingenious calculations of the secretary of the Gun Club, communicated by the Commission of Inquiry to the mathematicians who could understand them. And Alcide, who read algebra as if it were newspaper, found the study of them extremely interesting.

But if the upset did come, what a dreadful state of affairs there would be in the world! What cities thrown down, what mountains shaken, what people destroyed by millions, what waters hurled from their beds, what fearful terrors! It would be such an earthquake as had never quaked before!

“If Nicholl’s powder,” he said, “was not quite so strong, the projectile might return to give the Earth another shock either before or behind the firing-point, after making the turn of the globe, and then everything might soon be knocked back into place, after causing immense destruction, nevertheless! But they are going to throw it overboard! Thanks to their meli-melonite their shell will describe the half of a hyperbola and never come back to beg pardon for having given that kick to the terrestrial ball!”

And Alcide threw his arms about like the semaphore at Portsmouth Dockyard, at the risk of breaking everything within a radius of six feet of him.

“If the firing-point were known I could soon find the great circles in which the alteration will be zero, and the places where it will reach the maximum, so as to give folks notice to clear out and save themselves from being smashed by their houses tumbling about their ears! But how am I to know that firing-point?”

And he ran his fingers through the very little hair that had been left him.

“The results of the shock may be much more complicated than they imagine! Why should not the volcanoes take the opportunity to favor us with a few disorderly eruptions, and, like a first voyager, displace some of the matter in their insides? Why should not the uplifted ocean take a header into some of the craters? There’s a chance for you! That would give an explosion that might send the whole tellurian box of tricks sky high, or rather sky higher! What do you say to that, you confounded Maston? you obstinate mute! What do you mean by juggling with our poor Earth as if it were a ball on a billiard-table?”

These alarming hypotheses of Vitriolic Alcide were taken up and discussed by the newspapers all over the world. The pyrotechnic display organized by Barbicane & Co. would end in waterspouts, tidal waves, deluges, would it? But such catastrophes would only be partial! Thousands of people would disappear, and the rest would hardly notice anything worth mentioning! As the fatal day approached, fear came over the bravest. It might have been the dreadful year 1000 from the way in which the people generally conducted themselves.

What happened in that year 1000 it may be interesting to recall. Owing to a passage in the Apocalypse, the people of Europe were persuaded that the Day of Judgment was nigh. They waited for the signs of wrath; the son of Perdition, Antichrist, was to be revealed.

“In the last year of the 10th century,” relates H. Martin, “everything was interrupted—pleasures, business, interest, even the work in the fields. ‘Why,’ said the people, ‘should we provide for a future that will never come? Let us think of eternity, which will begin tomorrow.’ They provided only for their immediate needs; they handed over their lands and castles to the monasteries to obtain their protection in the kingdom in the skies which was about to come to them. Many of the deeds of gift to the churches begin with the words, ‘The end of the world approaching, and its ruin being imminent.’ When the end of the fatal term arrived the people kept within the basilicas, the chapels, the edifices consecrated to God, and waited in agony for the seven trumpets of the seven angels of judgment to sound in the sky.”

As we know, New Year’s Day, 1000, was reached without any disturbance in the laws of Nature. But this time the expectation of the catastrophe was not based on a doubtful interpretation of a text. It was a change to be applied to the earth’s equilibrium based on indisputable calculations, which the progress of the ballistic and mechanical sciences rendered quite possible. This time it was not the sea that would give back the dead, but the sea that would engulf millions of the living.

Under these circumstances, the position of J.T. Maston became daily more critical. Mrs. Scorbitt trembled lest he should become the victim of the general mania. Sometimes she thought of advising him to speak the word which he so obstinately kept to himself. But she dared not, and she did well. It would have been to expose herself to a categorical refusal.

The city of Baltimore was a prey to terror, and it became difficult to restrain the populace, who were being excited even unto madness by the newspapers, by the telegrams which they published from the four angles of the earth, to use the apocalyptic language of St John the Evangelist in the days of Domitian. Assuredly, if J.T. Maston had lived under that persecuting emperor, his business would soon have been settled. He would have been thrown to the beasts. But he would have contented himself with replying:

“I am there already!”

But no matter what happened, he refused to reveal the position of place x, knowing well that if he divulged it Barbicane and Nicholl would be prevented from continuing their work.

After all, there was something grand in this struggle between one man and the entire world. J.T. Maston increased in grandeur in the mind of Mrs. Scorbitt, and also in the opinion of his colleagues of the Gun Club. These gallant fellows were as obstinate as retired artillerymen, and never swerved from their support of Barbicane & Co. The secretary of the Gun Club reached such a height of celebrity that a number of persons even wrote to him, as they do to famous criminals, to obtain a few lines from the hand of the man who was going to upset the globe.

This was all very fine, but it was more and more dangerous. The populace thronged day and night round the gaol of Baltimore. There was great shouting and much tumult. The mob would have lynched J.T. Maston there and then if they could; and the police saw the time was coming when they could no longer protect him.

Desirous of satisfying the American mob, as well as the mob of other countries, the Washington government decided to bring J.T. Maston to trial.

With a jury selected from the terrified masses, “the affair would not hang about long,” to quote the words of Alcide, who felt a kind of sympathy for the calculator’s tenacity.

On the 5th of September, the President of the Commission visited the prisoner in his cell.

Mrs. Scorbitt, at his urgent request, was allowed to accompany him. Perhaps at the last attempt the influence of this amiable lady might be successful. It would not do to neglect anything. All means were legitimate that might secure the word of the enigma. If they did not succeed, they would see!

“They will see!” said the knowing ones. “Suppose they hang J.T. Maston, and the catastrophe takes place all the same?”

At 11 o’clock, then, Maston found himself in the presence of John Prestice and Evangelina Scorbitt.

“For the last time,” said Prestice, “will you answer me?”

“What about?” said Maston.

“Where has your colleague, Barbicane, gone to?”

“I have already told you a hundred times.”

“Repeat it for the hundred and first.”

“He has gone where he will fire the cannon.”

“And where will he fire the cannon?”

“Where Barbicane is at this present moment.”

“Take care, Maston!”

“Of what?”

“Of the consequences of your refusal to reply. The result will be—”

“That you will not discover what you have no right to know.”

“What we have the right to know.”

“That is not my opinion.”

“We are going to put you on your trial.”

“You can put me on my trial.”

“And the jury will find you guilty.”

“Let them find me guilty.”

“And the sentence will immediately be given and immediately executed.”

“Very well.”

“Dear Maston!” said Evangelina, whose heart trembled at the prospect.

“Oh! Mrs. Scorbitt,” said J.T. Maston.

She bowed her head, and was silent.

“Would you like to know what the sentence will be—”

“Yes, if you like.”

“You will be hanged, as you deserve.”

“Really.”

“And you will be hanged, sir, as sure as two and two make four.”

“Then, sir, I shall have a chance,” said the phlegmatic Maston. “If you were only the least bit of a mathematician you would not say as sure as two and two make four. What is it that proves that all mathematicians up to now have not been mad in asserting that the sum of two numbers is equal to that of their parts, that two and two make exactly four?”

“Sir!” exclaimed the president, completely puzzled.

“Ah!” continued Maston. “If you had said as sure as one and one make two, all right! That is absolutely evident, for it is no longer a theorem, it is a definition.”

At this lesson in arithmetic, the president of the Commission retired, while Mrs. Scorbitt’s eyes were ablaze with admiration for the extraordinary abilities of her beloved calculator.

14. The Geographical Value of X

Fortunately for J.T. Maston, the federal government unexpectedly received the following telegram:

To John S. Wright, Washington, U.S.A.

Zanzibar, 13th September, 5 a.m., local time. Great foundries have been established among the Wamasai to the south of Kilimanjaro. For eight months Impey Barbicane and Nicholl have been there, with hundreds of black workmen under the authority of the Sultan Bali-Bali. Information for Government purposes.—Richard W. Trust, U.S. Consul.

And that is how the great secret was discovered. And that is why the secretary of the Gun Club was not hanged.

But who can say that he did not live to regret that he was not removed from mankind in all the plenitude of his glory?

Anyhow the fact of the discovery is so important in our history that we shall only be treating it with due respect in giving it this chapter to itself.

15. Interesting for the Inhabitants of the Terrestrial Spheroid

And so the Washington government knew where Barbicane & Co. had commenced business. There could be no doubt as to the authenticity of the telegram. The Consul of Zanzibar was too cautious a man for his information to be doubted, and it was confirmed by subsequent telegrams. The gigantic works of the North Polar Practical Association were in full swing in the centre of the Kilimanjaro region, about 300 miles from the east coast of Africa, a little below the equinoctial line.

How had they come to be installed so secretly in this lost country, at the foot of the famous mountain discovered in 1848 by Krapf and Rebmann? How had Barbicane & Co. been able to build their foundries and collect their staff? By what means had they managed to enter into peaceful relations with the savage tribes of the district, and their cruel and grasping chiefs? Nobody knew. And as there were only a few days to run before the 22nd, it was not unlikely that nobody would know.

When J.T. Maston learnt from Evangelina that the mystery of Kilimanjaro had been cleared up by a telegram from Zanzibar—

“Pshaw!” he said, making a wonderful zigzag in the air with his iron hook. “They do not travel yet by telegraph or telephone; and in six days—patarapatanboom-boom—all will be ready!”

And any one who heard the secretary of the Gun Club deliver the sonorous onomatope, like a roar from a Columbiad, would have wondered at the amount of vital energy remaining in the old artilleryman.

But there was no doubt that he was right. There was no time to send messengers to the Wamasai to arrest Impey Barbicane. Even if the messengers started from Egypt, or Aden, or Massowah, or Zanzibar, however quickly they might travel, they would have to contend with the difficulties of the country, with the obstacles unavoidable on a road through a mountainous region, and probably with followers acting under the orders of a sultan as despotic as he was black.

All hope would have to be given up of stopping the operation or arresting the operator.

But, if that was impossible, nothing was easier now than to know the worst that could happen. The firing-point had been revealed, and it was a simple matter of calculation—a complicated calculation evidently, but not beyond the capacities of algebraists in particular and mathematicians in general.

At first the government kept the despatch secret, their object being to be able to indicate when they published it what would be the results of the displacement of the axis with regard to the alteration in the level of the waters. The inhabitants of the world would then know the fate that was in store for them, according to the segment of the spheroid on which they resided.

On the 14th of September the telegram was sent to the Longitudes Office at Washington, with instructions to work out the final consequences, ballistic and geographical. The next day but one the information was ready. It was cabled at once to all the governments of the new and old worlds, and having been printed in thousands of newspapers, it was cried in all the great cities by all the newsboys of the globe, as—

“What is going to happen?”

Which was the question being asked in every language just then.

And this is the reply as given by the Longitudes Office.

IMPORTANT NOTICE

The experiment to be attempted by Barbicane & Co. is as follows:

To produce a recoil on the 22nd of September at midnight, local time, by means of a monster cannon throwing a projectile of 180,000 tons.

If this discharge is effected just below the equator, near the 38th meridian, at the base of the Kilimanjaro chain, and if it is directed towards the south, the mechanical effect on the terrestrial spheroid will be as follows:

At once, owing to the shock being combined with the diurnal movement, a new axis will be formed, the old axis being 23°28′, and the new one being perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic.

In the north the extremity of the new axis will be situated between Greenland and Grinnell Land, on that part of Baffin Sea cut by the Arctic Circle. In the south it will be on the Antarctic Circle to the east of Adelaide Land.

As an example of the new meridians, we may mention that passing through Dublin in Ireland, Paris in France, Palermo in Sicily, Obeid in Darfur, Kilimanjaro, Kerguelen Island, the new Antarctic Pole, the Society Islands in the Pacific, Vancouver Island, and Melville Peninsula.

The new equator will pass through the Kilimanjaro country, the Indian Ocean, Goa, a little below Calcutta, Mangala in Siam, Hong Kong, the Marshall and Walker Islands in the Pacific, Rio Janeiro, Saint Helena, and by St. Paul de Loanda across Africa to Kilimanjaro.

The new equator having been formed by the new axis, it is possible to calculate the results on the ocean levels.

It is worthy of note that Barbicane & Co., or rather the directors of the North Polar Practical Association, have evidently been desirous of doing as little damage as possible. Had the discharge been effected towards the north, the consequences would have been disastrous for the most civilized portions of the globe; but by firing towards the south the consequences, so far as the submergence of the land is concerned, will only affect the less peopled and wilder countries.

The globe will, for the purposes of this inquiry, be divided by two great circles, intersecting at right angles at Kilimanjaro and the antipodes of that mountain, thus giving four segments, two in the northern hemisphere, and two in the southern hemisphere, separated by lines in which no alteration of level will occur.

1. The northern hemisphere:

The first segment, to the west of Kilimanjaro, will comprise Africa from the Congo to Egypt, Europe from Turkey to Greenland, America from British Columbia to Peru and Brazil north of San Salvador—in fact the whole of the north Atlantic and the greater part of the equatorial Atlantic.

The second segment, to the east of Kilimanjaro, will comprise the greater part of Europe from the Black Sea to Sweden, the Russian Empire, Arabia, almost all India, Persia, Beloochistan, Afghanistan, Turkestan, the Celestial Empire, Mongolia, Japan, Korea, the Northern Pacific and Alaska—and also the polar regions, so regrettably placed in the possession of Barbicane & Co.

2. The southern hemisphere:

The third segment, to the east of Kilimanjaro, will comprise Madagascar, Kerguelen Island, Mauritius, and all the islands of the Indian Ocean, the Antarctic Ocean to the new pole, the Malay Peninsula, Java, Sumatra, Borneo, the Philippines, Australia, New Zealand, and all the southern Pacific up to the meridian of the Society Islands.

The fourth segment, to the west of Kilimanjaro, will include Africa south of the Congo and the Mozambique Channel, the Cape of Good Hope, the south Atlantic, South America below Pernambuco and Lima, Bolivia, Brazil, Uruguay, the Argentine Confederation, Tierra del Fuego, the Sandwich and South Shetland Islands, and a portion of the south Pacific.

Such will be the four segments of the globe divided by lines of no alteration in level.

In each of these four segments there will be a central point where the effect will attain its maximum, either of increase or decrease.

This maximum will approach 25,000 feet at each point and at the point the consequences will be most serious.

In two of the segments situated opposite each other in the northern and southern hemispheres, the sea will retire to flow into the two other segments.

In the first segment the Atlantic Ocean will almost entirely empty itself, the point of maximum being about the Bermudas, where the bottom will become visible if the depth of the sea in that locality be less than 25,000 feet. Consequently, between America and Europe, vast territories will be revealed, which the United States, Great Britain, France, Spain and Portugal can annex pro rata to their Atlantic coastlines, or otherwise, as they may think fit. But it must be remembered that as the waters are lowered, so will the air be. The coast of Europe and America will be lifted to such an extent, that towns placed 20 or even 30 degrees from the point of maximum, will have no more air than is now available at three miles from the surface of the sea. New York, Philadelphia, Charlestown, Panama, Lisbon, Madrid, Paris, London, Edinburgh, Dublin will be thus elevated, but Cairo, Constantinople, Dantzic, Stockholm on one side, and the western coast towns of America on the other, will retain their present level. The Bermudas will be in such rarefied air as has hitherto been only experienced by aeronauts, and will become as uninhabitable as the upper peaks of the mountains of Tibet.

Similar effects will be experienced in the opposite southern segment comprising the Indian Ocean, Australia, and the Pacific. At Adelaide and Melbourne the level of the sea will sink 25,000 feet below them, and the air will become so pure and rarefied as to be unbreathable.

Such are the two segments from which the waters will retire. In the sea that will be left there will probably be many new islands, formed by the summits of submarine mountain-chains.

In the other segments the waters will rise to a corresponding height.

In the segment northeast of Kilimanjaro the maximum will be at Yakutsk in Siberia. This town will be submersed under 25,000 feet of water—less its actual altitude—and thence thinning out on all sides the flood will spread out over Asiatic Russia, India, China, Japan, and Alaska. The Ural Mountains may possibly appear above the waters as islands. St. Petersburg and Moscow on one side, Calcutta, Bangkok, Saigon, Pekin, Hong Kong, and Tokyo, on the other, will disappear beneath the waves at variable depths, but at depths quite sufficient to drown such of the Russians, Hindus, Siamese, Cochinchinese, Chinese, and Japanese who have not left the country before the catastrophe.

In the segment southwest of Kilimanjaro the disasters will not be of such magnitude, as the segment is in a great measure covered by the Atlantic and Pacific, the level of which will rise 25,000 feet above the Falkland Islands. But nevertheless much territory will disappear, among others all South Africa from the Gulf of Guinea and Kilimanjaro to the Cape of Good Hope, all South America south of Central Brazil and Peru, including Chili, the Argentine Republic down to Tierra del Fuego. The Patagonians, however tall they may be, will not escape destruction, as they will not even have the resource of escaping to the Cordilleras, not one of whose summits will in those parts rise above sea-level.

Such will be the results produced by the changes of the level of the waters. And such are the eventualities for which those interested must prepare, unless something happens to prevent the dastardly enterprise of Barbicane & Co.

16. The Chorus of Terror

According to the “important notice,” the dangers of the position could be avoided, or rather fled from, by hurrying off to the neutral zones.

The people in peril could be divided into two classes, the asphyxiated and the drowned.

The effect of the communication was to give rise to very different opinions, which soon developed into the most violent protestations.

On the side of the asphyxiated were the Americans of the United States, the Europeans of the United Kingdom, and France, Spain, etc. The prospect of being able to annex territories from the ocean-bed was not attractive enough to persuade them to accept the change.

On the side of the drowned were the inhabitants of South America, and the Hindus, Russians, and Chinese. But Great Britain was not likely to allow Barbicane & Co. to deprive her of her southern colonies; and the other nations decidedly objected to being so summarily disposed of. Evidently the Gulf of Mexico would be emptied to form a huge territory of the Antilles, which the Mexicans and Americans might claim in accordance with the Monroe Doctrine. Evidently the left of the Philippines and Celebes would bring up an immense region which the British and Spanish might share. But vain such compensation! It would never balance the loss due to the terrible inundation.

If the new seas were only to rise over the Samoyeds, Laps, Fuegians, Patagonians, Tartars even, Chinese, Japanese, or even Argentines, the world might have borne the bereavement. But the catastrophe affected too many of the great powers for them to bear it quietly.

Although the central part would remain much as it is, Europe would be lifted in the west and lowered in the east, that is to say half asphyxiated on one side and half drowned on the other.

Such a state of affairs was unacceptable. Besides, the Mediterranean would be nearly drained dry, and that neither French, Italians, Spaniards, Greeks, Turks, nor Egyptians cared for, as their position on its coast gave them indisputable rights over the sea. And what would be the use of the Suez Canal, which would escape, owing to its position on the neutral line? What was to be done with that when there was no Mediterranean at one end and very little Red Sea at the other—unless it was lengthened by several hundred miles?

Great Britain had no desire to see Gibraltar, Malta, and Cyprus transformed into mountaintops which ironclads would try to anchor near in vain. And the British Government declined to entertain in any form the suggested compensation from the risen bed of the Atlantic.

In short, all the world was in arms against Barbicane & Co. Even the people on the neutral lines were urgent in their protests. And so it soon came about that Barbicane, 116Nicholl, and J.T. Maston were put under the ban of humanity.

But how the newspapers prospered! What a rush there was for copies! What editions after editions! For the first time in the history of the newspaper press all the papers of every country in the world were agreed upon one matter. And the effect of that is more easily imagined than described!

J.T. Maston might well believe that his last hour was come.

In fact, a frantic mob broke into his prison on the evening of the 17th of September with the intention of lynching him, and it is well to say, the police made no objection.

The cell was empty! With the worthy calculator’s weight in gold, Mrs. Scorbitt had managed his escape. The jailer was the more ready to be bribed by a fortune as he had hopes of enjoying it for some years. In fact, Baltimore, like Washington, New York, and the other chief cities of the American seaboard, was in the list of towns to be reasonably elevated, and in which there would remain enough air for the daily consumption of their inhabitants.

J.T. Maston had gained some mysterious retreat where he was safe from the fury of popular wrath. Thus was the life of the great world-troubler saved by a woman’s devotion.

And now only four days remained before Barbicane & Co. did their awful deed. The important notice had been generally understood. If there had been a few skeptics before, there were none now. The governments issued proclamations to such of their peoples as were to be sent up into the rarefied air, and to the greater number that were to be dropped into deep water.

The result was such a migration as had never been seen, not even when the Aryan families began to remove. An exodus took place comprising every branch of the Hottentots, Melanesians, Negroes, Red Men, Yellow Men, Brown Men, White Men.

Unfortunately the time was too short. It could be reckoned in hours. Given a few months, the Chinese might abandon China, the Australians Australia, the Patagonians Patagonia, the Siberians Siberia.

But time! Time! The time! How was it possible?

Migration was useless.

There was only one chance!

Suppose that Barbicane & Co. were to fail?

17. The Works at Kilimanjaro

The country of the Wamasai is situated in the east of Central Africa, between Zanzibar and the great lakes. Our knowledge of it is due chiefly to Thomson, Johnston, Count Tekeli, and Doctor Meyer. It is a mountainous district under the sovereignty of the Sultan Bali-Bali, whose people are negroes, and number from 30,000 to 40,000.

Three degrees south of the equator rises the chain of Kilimanjaro, which lifts its highest summit over 18,000 feet above the sea, and commands northwards, southwards, and westwards, the vast and fertile plains of the Wamasai.

A few miles below the first slopes of the mountain lies the town of Kisongo, where the Sultan resides. The capital is, truth to tell, but a large village. It is occupied by a population, highly gifted and intelligent, and working hard as much by itself as by its slaves under the iron yoke of Bali-Bali, who is justly considered to be one of the most remarkable sovereigns of Central Africa.

Impey Barbicane and Captain Nicholl, accompanied by ten foremen devoted to the enterprise, had arrived at Kisongo in the first week of January. The fact of their departure had only been communicated to J.T. Maston and Mrs. Scorbitt. They had embarked at New York for the Cape of Good Hope; thence they had gone to Zanzibar; and a barque, secretly chartered, had taken them to Mombasa on the other side of the channel. An escort from the Sultan had met them at this port, and after a difficult journey of about 300 miles across this harassed region, obstructed by forests, cut up by streams, and checkered with marshes, they had reached the royal residence.

As soon as he had obtained J.T. Maston’s calculations, Barbicane had put himself in communication with Bali-Bali through a Swedish explorer who intended to spend a few years in this part of Africa. The Sultan had become one of the warmest admirers of the audacious Yankee after the celebrated Moon Voyage, the fame of which had spread even to this distant country. Without disclosing his object Barbicane had obtained from the Wamasai the needful authority to open important works at the southern base of Kilimanjaro. For the very considerable sum of $300,000 Bali-Bali had engaged to furnish him with the labor he required to do what he liked with Kilimanjaro. He could take it down if he liked, or carry it away if he could; and he became as much the owner of the mountain as he was of the North Pole.

Barbicane and his colleague were cordially welcomed at Kisongo. Bali-Bali felt an admiration bordering on adoration for the two illustrious voyagers who had launched out into space to attain the circumlunar regions, and sympathized enthusiastically with the projectors of the mysterious works they wished to establish in his kingdom. He undertook that the enterprise should be kept secret, both by himself and his subjects, for all of whom he could answer, as not one of the negroes engaged had the right to leave the works for a day under penalty of the most dreadful punishments.

On this account the operation was enveloped in a mystery that the cleverest detectives of America and Europe failed to penetrate, and if it was discovered at last it was because the Sultan had relaxed his severity after the completion of the works, and that there are traitors or chatterers even among negroes. It was in this way that Richard W. Trust, the consul at Zanzibar, got wind of what was happening at Kilimanjaro. But at that date, the 13th of September, it was too late to stop Barbicane in the accomplishment of his plans.

The reason that Barbicane & Co. had chosen the country of the Wamasai as the scene of their operations was that, in the first place, it was little known and rarely visited by travelers, and, secondly, that the mass of Kilimanjaro offered all the qualities of solidity and position necessary for their work. Besides, the country was rich in all the materials they required, and these were found under conditions that made them easily workable.

A few months before leaving the United States, Barbicane had learnt from the Swedish explorer that iron and coal were abundant in the Kilimanjaro chain. There were no mines to be opened, and no shafts to be driven thousands of feet into the crust of the earth. The minerals were on the surface, and had only to be picked up from the ground. And in addition to these, there were large deposits of nitrate of soda and iron pyrites, such as were required for the manufacture of the meli-melonite.

Barbicane and Nicholl had brought no staff of workmen with them except the 10 foremen, on whom they could depend. These could take command of the 10,000 negroes placed at their disposal by Bali-Bali, to whom was entrusted the task of making the monster cannon and its no less monster projectile.

A fortnight after the arrival of Barbicane and his colleague among the Wamasai, three large workshops had been erected on the south of the mountain; one as the foundry for the gun, one as the foundry for the shot, and one as the factory for the meli-melonite.

And how did Barbicane & Co. intend to cast a cannon of such colossal dimensions? The only chance for the inhabitants of the world was, as we have seen, in the difficulty of dealing with such a huge undertaking.

To cast a cannon a million times larger than a 400-pounder would have been beyond the power of man. To make a 400-pounder is difficult enough, but a 400 million-pounder! Barbicane and Co. did not attempt to do so. It was not a cannon, nor even a mortar, that they had in their minds. They simply intended to drive a gallery into the mountain.

Evidently this enormous mine would have the same effect as a gigantic Columbiad, the manufacture of which would have been as costly as it was difficult, owing to the thickness it would have to be to avoid the risk of bursting. Barbicane & Co. had always intended to act in this way, and if J.T. Maston’s notebook spoke of a cannon, it was the 400-pounder he had taken as the basis of his calculations.

Consequently, a spot was chosen 100 feet up the southern side of the chain, from the base of which the plains extended for miles and miles, so that nothing would be in the way of the projectile when it was hurled from the long tube in the mass of Kilimanjaro.

With great precision and much labour Barbicane carried on the driving of his tunnel. Easy to him was the construction of boring machines worked with air compressed by the power of the large waterfalls in the district. The holes bored by the machines were charged with meli-melonite, and the blasting of the rock was easy, it being a kind of syenite composed of orthoclastic felspar and amphibolic hornblende. It was a favorable circumstance that a rock so constituted would strongly resist the frightful pressure developed by the expansion of the gas; but the height and thickness of the mountain afforded ample security against any exterior splitting or cracking.

The thousands of workmen under the guidance of the 10 foremen, superintended by Barbicane, progressed with such zeal and intelligence that in less than six months the tunnel was finished. It measured nearly 90 feet in diameter and 2,000 feet long. As it was important that the projectile should glide along a perfectly smooth surface without losing any of the gas of deflagration, the interior was lined with a smooth tube of cast iron. This was a much larger affair than the celebrated Columbiad of Tampa Town, which had sent the aluminum projectile round the Moon. But what is there that is impossible to the engineers of the modern world?

While the boring went on in the flank of Kilimanjaro, the workmen were busy at the second foundry. While the tube was being built the enormous projectile was in process of manufacture.

All it consisted of was a mass of cast iron, cylindroconical in form, weighing 180,000 tons. It had never been intended to make such a casting in one piece, but to provide 180 masses, each of 1,000 tons, which could be hoisted into the tube and arranged in front of the meli-melonite so as to form a compact charge.

It thus became necessary to furnish the second foundry with 400,000 tons of ore, 70,000 tons of flux, and 400,000 tons of good coal, which at the outset was transformed into 280,000 tons of coke. As the deposits were all in the vicinity, this was only a matter of transport.

The greatest difficulty was the construction of the blast furnaces for dealing with the ore; but nevertheless, before a month was out 10 furnaces were at work, capable, each, of an output of 180 tons a day. This gave 1,800 tons in the 24 hours, and 180,000 tons in 10 working days.

In the meli-melonite factory the work went on easily, and so secretly that the composition of the explosive was never discovered. All went well; and there was hardly an accident to mar the progress.

The Sultan was delighted. He followed the operations with indefatigable assiduity, and it may be imagined how his Majesty’s presence stimulated the zeal of his faithful subjects.

When he asked what it all meant, Barbicane would reply enigmatically:

“It is a work which will change the face of the world!”

“A work,” Captain Nicholl would add, “that will confer on the Sultan Bali-Bali a glory that will never fade among the monarchs of Eastern Africa!”

And that the Sultan of the Wamasai felt proud there is no need for us to insist!

On the 29th of August the works were completed. The tunnel was lined with the smooth iron tube built up within it. At the end lay stored 2,000 tons of meli-melonite in communication with the box of fulminate. Then came the projectile 345 feet long. In front of the projectile was a space of 1,450 feet in which effect would be given to the impulse due to the expansion of the gas.

That being the case, there remained the question—a question of pure ballistics—would the projectile have the trajectory assigned to it by J.T. Maston? The calculations were correct. They indicated in what measure the projectile would deviate to the east of the meridian of Kilimanjaro in virtue of the earth’s rotation, and what would be the form of the hyperbolic curve which it described in virtue of its enormous initial velocity.

Second question: Would it be visible during its flight? No, for when it left the tube plunged in the darkness of the earth, it could not be seen, and besides owing to its moderate height it would have a very considerable angular velocity. Once it entered the zone of light, the smallness of its volume would conceal it from the most powerful glasses, and for a stronger reason it would, when free from the influence of terrestrial attraction, gravitate forever around the Sun.

Assuredly Barbicane & Co. might be proud of the work they were about to complete. Why was not J.T. Maston there to admire the admirable execution of the works which was worthy of the precision of the calculations that had inspired them? And above all things why was he far away when the formidable detonation would awake the echoes of the most distant horizons of Africa?

In thinking of him his colleagues had no notion that he had had to leave Ballistic Cottage after escaping from Baltimore Jail, and was now in hiding to save his precious life. They knew not to what a degree public opinion had risen against the North Polar Practical Association. They knew not what would be the massacres, quarterings, and roastings if the people happened to lay hold of them. Indeed they were fortunate that when the mine was fired they could only be saluted by the shouts of the Wamasai.

“At last!” said Captain Nicholl, when on the evening of the 22nd of September they were strolling about at the mouth of the mine.

“Yes! At last! And also—Ha!” and Barbicane gave a sigh of relief.

“If you had to begin again?”

“Bah! We should begin again!”

“What luck,” said Nicholl, “that we should have at our disposal this admirable meli-melonite!”

“Which will make you illustrious, Nicholl!”

“Doubtless, Barbicane,” said the captain modestly. “But do you know how many galleries we should have had to drive in the flanks of Kilimanjaro to obtain the same result if we had only had gun-cotton like that which flung our projectile at the Moon?”

“Tell me.”

“One hundred and eighty, Barbicane!”

“Well, we would have driven them!”

“And 180 projectiles of a 180,000 tons!”

“We would have made them, Nicholl!”

There is no nonsense about men of this stamp. But when artillerists have made the round of the Moon, of what could they not be capable?

And that very evening, an hour or two only before the discharge was to take place, and while Barbicane and Nicholl were thus congratulating themselves, Alcide Pierdeux, shut up in his room at Baltimore, jumped to his feet and whooped like a Redskin.

“Whoooop! Mr. J.T. Maston! You brute, you shall swallow your problem, you shall! And why didn’t I see that before! In the name of a cosine! If I knew where you were I would ask you to supper, and we would have a glass of champagne together at the very moment your gun is to go off!”

And he capered round the room and whirled his arms about like a railway signal gone mad.

“Whoooop, you old plum-tree! You must have had a big bang when you calculated the cannon of Kilimanjaro! Hurrah for the cannon of Kilimanjaro; and how many more would you like? That is not only the sine quâ non, my boy, but the sine cannon! Whoooop!”

18. The Wamasai Wait for the Word to Fire

It was the evening of the 22nd of September—that memorable date to which public opinion assigned an influence as disastrous as that of the 1st of January, 1000.

Twelve hours after the sun passed the meridian of Kilimanjaro, that is to say, at midnight, the hand of Captain Nicholl would fire the terrible mine.

From Kilimanjaro to Baltimore is 114 degrees, or a difference in time of 456 minutes. At the moment of discharge it would be 24 minutes past five in the afternoon in the great city of Maryland.

The weather was magnificent. The sun had just set on the plains of the Wamasai behind a perfectly clear horizon. Barbicane & Co. could not have wished for a better night, a calmer or a more star-lit one, in which to hurl their projectile into space. There was not a cloud to mingle with the artificial vapors developed by the deflagration of the meli-melonite.

Who knows? Perhaps Barbicane and Nicholl were regretting that they could not take their places inside the projectile? In the first second they could have travelled over 1,700 miles! After having penetrated the mysteries of the lunar world, they would have penetrated those of the solar world, and under conditions differently interesting from those of Hector Servadac on the comet Gallia!

The Sultan Bali-Bali, the great personages of his court; that is to say, his minister of finance and his minister of works, and the staff of black workmen, were gathered together to watch their final operation. But, with commendable prudence, they had taken up their position three miles away from the mouth of the mine, so as to suffer no inconvenience from the disturbance of the atmosphere.

Around them were a few thousand natives from Kisongo and the villages in the south of the province, who had been ordered by the Sultan to come and admire the spectacle.

A wire connecting an electric battery with the detonator of the fulminate in the tube lay ready to fire the meli-melonite.

As a prelude, an excellent repast had assembled at the same table the Sultan, his American visitors, and the notabilities of the capital—the whole at the cost of Bali-Bali, who did the thing all the better from his knowing he would be reimbursed out of the ample purse of Barbicane & Co.

It was 11 o’clock when the banquet, which had begun at half-past 7, came to an end by a toast proposed by the Sultan in honor of the engineers of the North Polar Practical Association and the success of their undertaking.

In an hour the modification of the geographical and climatological conditions of the Earth would be an accomplished fact.

Barbicane, his colleague, and the 10 foremen began to take up their places around the hut in which the electric battery was placed.

Barbicane, chronometer in hand, counted the minutes—and never did they seem so long—those minutes which seemed not years, but centuries!

At ten minutes to 12 he and Captain Nicholl approached the apparatus which put the wire in communication with the cannon of Kilimanjaro.

The Sultan, his court, the crowd of natives, formed an immense circle round them.

It was essential that the discharge should take place at the precise moment indicated in the calculations of J.T. Maston, that is at the instant the sun touched the equinoctial line, which henceforth he would never leave in his apparent orbit round the terrestrial spheroid.

Five minutes to 12!

Four minutes to 12!

Three minutes to 12!

Two minutes to 12!

One minute to 12!

Barbicane followed the hand of the chronometer, which was lighted by a lantern held by one of the foremen.

Captain Nicholl stood with his finger on the button of the apparatus ready to close the circuit.

Twenty seconds to 12!

Ten seconds!

There was not the suspicion of a shake in the hand of the impassible Captain Nicholl. He and his friend were no more excited than when, shut up in the projectile, they waited for the Columbiad to despatch them to the Moon.

Five seconds!

One!

“Fire!” said Barbicane.

And Nicholl’s finger pressed the button.

The noise was truly awful. The echoes rolled in thunders far beyond the realm of the Wamasai. There was a shrill shriek of the projectile which traversed the air under the impetus from milliards of milliards of liters of gas developed by the instantaneous deflagration of 2,000 tons of meli-melonite. It seemed as though there had passed over the surface of the Earth one of those storms in which are gathered all the fury of Nature.

And the effect would have been no less terrible if all the guns of all the artilleries of the world had been joined to the thunders of the sky to give one long continuous roar together.

19. J.T. Maston Regrets He Was Not Lynched

The capitals of the globe—and also the less important towns, and even the humbler villages—were, as a rule, waiting for the result in a paroxysm of terror. The newspapers took care that the exact moment corresponding to midnight at Kilimanjaro should be thoroughly well known.

At Baltimore, as we are aware, 12 hours after the passage of the Sun on the meridian of Kilimanjaro, it would be 5.24 p.m.

We need not enlarge on the agony of these moments. The most powerful pen of modern times would be helpless to describe them.

That the inhabitants of Baltimore ran no danger of being swept away by the rising sea may be very true! That they would not see Chesapeake Bay empty itself, and Cape Hatteras at the end become a mountain crest above the dried Atlantic, is agreed! But the city, like many others not menaced with emersion or immersion, might be shattered by the shock, its monuments thrown down, and its streets engulphed in the abysses that might open in the ground! And was there not a justification for fearing for those other parts of the world which would never survive the displacement of the waters?

Why, certainly!

And so every human being in that city felt a cold shiver in the spinal marrow during that fatal minute. Yes! all trembled with terror—but one! And that one was Vitrolic Alcide, who was quietly sipping a cup of hot coffee as if he and the old world would last forever.

5.24 p.m., answering to Kilimanjaro midnight, passed.

At Baltimore—nothing occurred!

At London, Berlin, Paris, Rome, Constantinople—nothing! Not the least shock!

Professor Milne, in the coal-pit at Kagoshima, in Japan, gazed steadily at the seismograph, and saw not the least abnormal movement in the crust of the Earth in that part of the world.

At Baltimore there was no sign of any disturbance whatsoever. The sky was cloudy, and when the night came it was impossible to see if the apparent movement of the stars had changed—which would, of course, have indicated a change in the Earth’s axis.

What a night did J.T. Maston pass in his retreat, unknown to all save Mrs. Scorbitt! He raged! He raved! He could not keep still. Would that he had been a few days older, to see if the curve of the Sun was modified—an indisputable proof of the success of the operation. On the 23rd the change would not be noticeable, for on that day the Sun invariably rises due east in every country of the globe.

In the morning the Sun rose just as usual.

Major Donellan and his friends were on the terrace of their hotel. They had furnished themselves with instruments of extreme precision, which would show if the Sun described its curve in the plane of the equator.

There was nothing to show that it did; and a few minutes after it had risen the radiant disc inclined towards the southern hemisphere.

There was no change in its apparent path.

The Major and his colleagues expressed their delight by giving three cheers for the Sun.

The sky was superb, the horizon quite clear from the mists of the night, and never did the glorious orb present himself under greater conditions of splendor before a wondering people.

“And in the very place noted by the laws of astronomy!” said Baldenak.

“Of our old astronomy,” said Karkof, “which these madmen attempted to annihilate!”

“To their cost and shame,” said Jansen.

“And the Arctic regions will remain under their eternal ice!” said Professor Harald.

“Hurrah for the Sun!” shouted Donellan. “He is good enough for us as he is!”

“Hurrah! hurrah!” said the others on the balcony.

Then it was that Todrin, who had said nothing, remarked judiciously, “Perhaps they have not fired!”

“Not fired?” ejaculated the Major aghast.

And that, with a different intonation, was what J.T. Maston and Mrs. Scorbitt said.

“Not fired?”

And that was what the wise and the foolish were asking; and it was what Alcide Pierdeux said, adding, “Whether they fired or no, it does not matter! The Earth will still spin on its old axis!”

No one knew what had passed at Kilimanjaro; but before the end of the day an answer was given to the question that puzzled humanity.

There was a telegram from Zanzibar:

To John S. Wright, Washington, U.S.A.

Zanzibar, 23rd September, 7.27 a.m., local time. Discharge took place at midnight from cannon on southern side of Kilimanjaro. Projectile traveled with fearful shriek. Awful explosion. Province devastated by a tornado. Sea risen in the Mozambique Channel. Many ships damaged and driven on shore. Towns and villages annihilated. All well, as usual.—Richard W. Trust, U.S. Consul.

Yes. All well as usual! Nothing changed in the state of affairs except the disasters among the Wamasai caused by the artificial tornado and the wrecks caused by the risen sea.

And had it not been the same when the famous Columbiad had sent its projectile towards the Moon? The shock communicated to the soil of Florida had only been experienced for 100 miles round. But this time the effect ought to have been 100 times as great.

Under any circumstances the telegram informed the world of two matters of interest:

1. The enormous cannon had been made in the flank of Kilimanjaro.

2. It had been fired at the time stated.

And then the world gave a shout of satisfaction, which was followed by an immense shout of laughter.

Barbicane & Co.’s attempt had failed piteously! J.T. Maston’s calculations might as well be put in the waste-paper basket! The North Polar Practical Association had nothing now to do but go into another kind of liquidation!

Could it be possible that the secretary of the Gun Club had made a mistake?

“I would rather believe I am deceived in the affection with which he inspires me,” said Mrs. Evangelina Scorbitt.

And if there was a discomfited being on the face of the planet it was J.T. Maston. When he saw that nothing had changed in the conditions of the Earth’s movement, he was buoyed up with hope that some accident had retarded the work of Barbicane and Nicholl.

But since the Zanzibar telegram he had to admit that the experiment had failed.

Failed? And the equations, the formulæ from which he had deduced the success of the enterprise! Was the gun not long enough, the projectile not heavy enough, the explosive not strong enough? No! It was inadmissible!

J.T. Maston was in such a state of excitement that he declared he would leave his retreat. Mrs. Scorbitt tried in vain to prevent him. Not that she feared for his life, for the danger was over. But the pleasantries that would be showered on the unhappy calculator, the jokes that would rain on his work—she would have spared him.

And, still more serious, what was the reception the Gun Club would give him? Would they retain him as their secretary after a failure that covered them with ridicule? Was not he, the author of the calculations, entirely responsible for the collapse?

He would listen to nothing. He would yield neither to the tears nor prayers of Mrs. Scorbitt. He came out of the house in which he was hidden. He appeared in the streets of Baltimore. He was recognized, and those whom he had menaced in their fortune and existence, whose anxiety he had prolonged by his obstinate silence, took vengeance on him by deriding him in every way.

The street boys shouted after him, “Go along, old pole-shifter!” “Hallo, old clock-jobber!” “How’s the figuring tinker?”

And a mob gathered and began to hustle him, and he had to seek refuge in the New Park mansion, where Mrs. Scorbitt did her best to console him. It was in vain.

J.T. Maston—after the example of Niobe—would not be consoled. His gun had produced no more effect on the terrestrial spheroid than an ordinary firecracker.

A fortnight went by, and the world had already forgotten the North Polar Practical Association. A fortnight, and no news of Barbicane or Captain Nicholl! Had they perished in the counter-shock of the explosion, victims to the ravages produced among the Wamasai? Had they paid with their lives for the biggest mystification of modern times?

No. At the explosion Barbicane and Nicholl had been thrown down; so had the Sultan, and several thousand natives; but they had all got up again safe and sound.

“Is it a success?” asked Bali-Bali rubbing his shoulders.

“Can you doubt it?”

“I—doubt it! But when shall we know?”

“In a day or two!” said Barbicane.

Did he see that the attempt had failed?

Possibly. But he never would have admitted it to the monarch of the Wamasai.

Two days afterwards Barbicane and Nicholl took their leave of Bali-Bali, not without paying a good round sum for the destruction done to the surface of his kingdom. And as the money went to his own private pocket, and his subjects got not a dollar, he had no cause to regret so lucrative an affair.

Then the two friends, followed by their foremen, reached Zanzibar, where they found a vessel starting for Suez. There, under assumed names, they took passage to Marseilles, whence by the P.L.M. and the Ouest they reached Havre, where they went on board the Bourgogne and crossed the Atlantic.

In 22 days after they left the Wamasai they were in New York.

On the 15th of October, at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, they knocked at the door of the mansion in New Park.

A minute afterwards they were in the presence of Mrs. Scorbitt and J.T. Maston.

20. The End of This Remarkable Story

“Barbicane? Nicholl?”

“Maston!”

“You?”

“We!”

And in that pronoun, spoken simultaneously by the two in a singular tone, there was everything that could be said in the way of irony and reproach.

J.T. Maston passed his iron hook across his forehead. Then in a voice that hissed between his lips he asked:

“Your gallery at Kilimanjaro was 2,000 feet long and 90 in diameter?”

“Yes.”

“Your projectile weighed 180,000 tons?”

“Yes.”

“And you used 2,000 tons of meli-melonite?”

“Yes.”

The three yes’s fell like blows of a sledgehammer on J.T. Maston’s occiput.

“Then I conclude—” he said.

“What?” asked Barbicane.

“That, as the experiment failed, the explosive did not give the projectile the necessary initial velocity!”

“Indeed!” said Captain Nicholl.

“And that your meli-melonite is only fit for pop-guns!”

Captain Nicholl started at the insult.

“Maston!” he exclaimed.

“Nicholl!”

“Will you fight me with meli-melonite?

“No; with gun-cotton. It is surer!”

Mrs. Scorbitt hastened to interfere.

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” she said. “Between friends!”

Then Impey Barbicane put in a word very quietly. “What is the use of abusing each other? It is certain that the calculations of our friend Maston were correct, and it is certain that the explosive of our friend Nicholl was sufficient! We followed exactly the teachings of science! And we failed! For what reasons? Probably we shall never know!”

“Well,” said the secretary of the Gun Club; “we will try it again!”

“And the money which has been lost?” observed Captain Nicholl.

“And public opinion, which will not permit you to again risk the fate of the world?” added Mrs. Scorbitt.

“What will become of the North Pole?” asked Nicholl.

“What is the value of the shares in the North Polar Practical Association?” asked Barbicane.

Oh, what a fall there had been thereof! The certificates could be bought at waste-paper prices.

Such was the memorable fiasco of the gigantic project of Barbicane & Co.

If ever unfortunate engineers were overwhelmed with ridicule, if ever there were amusing articles in the newspapers, caricatures, comic songs, parodies—it was then. Barbicane, the director of the Association, the members of the Gun Club, were literally covered with scorn. The storm of contempt was so thoroughly American that it was untranslatable even in Volapuk. And Europe joined in with such vigor that at last America was scandalized. And then remembering that Barbicane, Nicholl, and Maston were of American birth, and belonged to the famous club of Baltimore, a reaction in their favor set in, which was almost strong enough to make the United States declare war against the Old World.

But was it ever to be known why the enterprise failed? Did the failure prove that the project was impossible, that the forces of which man disposes will never be sufficient to bring about a change in the Earth’s diurnal movement, that never would the polar regions be displaced in latitude to such an extent that their icy mantle will be melted by the solar rays?

That this was the case appeared undoubted a few days after the return of Barbicane and Nicholl to the United States.

A letter appeared in the Parisian Temps of the 17th of October, which did mankind a service in confirming it in its feeling of security.

The letter was the following:

The abortive attempt to furnish the Earth with a new axis is now known. Nevertheless, the calculations of J.T. Maston were correctly founded, and would have produced the desired results if by some inexplicable distraction they had not been nullified by an error at the outset.

In fact, the celebrated secretary of the Gun Club took for his basis the circumference of the terrestrial spheroid at 40,000 meters instead of 40,000,000 meters—and that nullified the solution.

How came he to make such an error? What could have caused it? How could so remarkable a mathematician have made such a mistake? Conjecture is vain.

There is no doubt that the problem of the change of the terrestrial axis was correctly stated, and it should have been correctly worked out. But the initial error of three noughts produced an error of 12 noughts in the final result.

It is not a cannon a million times as large as a 400-pounder, but a million million million such cannons, hurling a million million million projectiles of 180,000 tons, that would displace the pole 23°28′, supposing that meli-melonite has the expansive power attributed to it by Captain Nicholl.

In short, the discharge of the projectile at Kilimanjaro has been to displace the pole three microns—that is, one ten-thousandth of an inch, and the maximum effect on the level of the sea must have been just nine-thousandths of a micron.

The projectile has become a small planet, and henceforth belongs to our system, in which it is retained by the solar attraction.

ALCIDE PIERDEUX.

So it was some distraction of J.T. Maston’s, an error of three noughts at the beginning of his calculations, that had brought this humiliating disaster on Barbicane & Co.

The members of the Gun Club were furious, but among the general public a reaction arose in favor of the poor fellow. After all, it was this mistake which had caused all the evil—or rather all the good, for it saved the world from ruin.

And so compliments came in from all parts, and letters arrived in millions congratulating J.T. Maston on having forgotten his three noughts!

But that extraordinary man, more deeply disgusted than ever, would not listen to the congratulatory world. Barbicane, Nicholl, Tom Hunter with the wooden leg, Colonel Bloomsberry, the brisk Bilsby, and their friends, would never forgive him.

But at least there remained Mrs. Scorbitt!

At first J.T. Maston refused to admit that he had made a mistake; and set to work to check his calculations.

Vitriolic Alcide was, however, accurate. And that was why, when he found the error at the last moment, and had no time to reassure his fellow-men, he so calmly sipped his pleasant hot coffee while the spinal marrow was so unpleasantly cool in his fellow-men’s backs.

There was no disguising the fact. Three noughts had slipped out of the terrestrial waist!

Then it was that J.T. Maston remembered! It was at the beginning of his labors when he had shut himself up in Ballistic Cottage. He had written the number 40,000,000 on the blackboard.

At that moment came a hurried tinkle from the telephone. He had gone to the instrument. He had exchanged a few words with Mrs. Scorbitt. There was a flash of lightning that upset him and his blackboard. He picked himself and his blackboard up. He began to write in the figures half rubbed out by the fall. He had just written 40,000—when the bell rang a second time. And when he returned to work he had forgotten the three last noughts in the measure of the Earth’s equator!

Now all that was the fault of Mrs. Scorbitt. If she had not bothered him he would never have been knocked down by the return shock of that electrical discharge.

And so the unhappy woman also received a shock when J.T. Maston told her how the mistake had been made. Yes! She was the cause of the disaster! It was her doing that J.T. Maston was now dishonored for the many years he had to live, for it was the general custom to die as centenarians in the Gun Club.

And after the interview J.T. Maston fled from the house in New Park. He went back to Ballistic Cottage. He strode about his workroom saying to himself:

“Now I am good for nothing in the world!”

“Not even if you were to marry?” said a voice which emotion made heartrending.

It was Mrs. Scorbitt.

Tearful and distracted she had followed J.T. Maston.

“Dear Maston!” said she.

“Well! Yes!” said he; “on one condition—that I never again touch mathematics.”

“I abominate them!” said the widow.

And thus it was that Mrs. Scorbitt became Mrs. J.T. Maston.

As to Alcide Pierdeux, what honor, what celebrity that letter brought both him and his old school! Translated into all languages, copied into all newspapers, it made his name known throughout the world.

It happened, therefore, that the father of the pretty Provençale, who had refused him his daughter’s hand because he was too learned, came to read the famous letter in the Petit Marseillais. Without any assistance he managed to make out its meaning. And then he was seized with remorse, and, as a preliminary measure, sent Vitriolic Alcide an invitation to dinner.

And so the world was left as it was.

No attempt was made by Barbicane & Co. to resume business. Any attempt would have been futile. Alcide’s contention was indisputable. It could be shown by mechanics that to effect a displacement of 23°28′, even with meli-melonite, so many Kilimanjaro guns or mines would be required, that the surface of the spheroid could not hold them.

The world’s inhabitants could thus sleep in peace. To modify the conditions of the Earth’s movement is beyond the powers of man. It is not given to mankind to change the order established by the Creator in the system of the universe.

THE END