Off on a Comet (26 page)

Regardless of the efforts that were made to silence him, the Jew
continued, "By the God of Abraham, I beseech you, give me some tidings
of Europe!"

"Europe?" shouted the professor, springing from his seat as if he were
electrified; "what does the man want with Europe?"

"I want to get there!" screeched the Jew; and in spite of every exertion
to get him away, he clung most tenaciously to the professor's chair, and
again and again implored for news of Europe.

Rosette made no immediate reply. After a moment or two's reflection, he
turned to Servadac and asked him whether it was not the middle of April.

"It is the twentieth," answered the captain.

"Then to-day," said the astronomer, speaking with the greatest
deliberation—"to-day we are just three millions of leagues away from
Europe."

The Jew was utterly crestfallen.

"You seem here," continued the professor, "to be very ignorant of the
state of things."

"How far we are ignorant," rejoined Servadac, "I cannot tell. But I will
tell you all that we do know, and all that we have surmised." And
as briefly as he could, he related all that had happened since
the memorable night of the thirty-first of December; how they had
experienced the shock; how the
Dobryna
had made her voyage; how they
had discovered nothing except the fragments of the old continent at
Tunis, Sardinia, Gibraltar, and now at Formentera; how at intervals
the three anonymous documents had been received; and, finally, how
the settlement at Gourbi Island had been abandoned for their present
quarters at Nina's Hive.

The astronomer had hardly patience to hear him to the end. "And what do
you say is your surmise as to your present position?" he asked.

"Our supposition," the captain replied, "is this. We imagine that we
are on a considerable fragment of the terrestrial globe that has been
detached by collision with a planet to which you appear to have given
the name of Gallia."

"Better than that!" cried Rosette, starting to his feet with excitement.

"How? Why? What do you mean?" cried the voices of the listeners.

"You are correct to a certain degree," continued the professor. "It is
quite true that at 47' 35.6" after two o'clock on the morning of the
first of January there was a collision; my comet grazed the earth; and
the bits of the earth which you have named were carried clean away."

They were all fairly bewildered.

"Where, then," cried Servadac eagerly, "where are we?"

"You are on my comet, on Gallia itself!"

And the professor gazed around him with a perfect air of triumph.

"Yes, my comet!" repeated the professor, and from time to time he
knitted his brows, and looked around him with a defiant air, as though
he could not get rid of the impression that someone was laying an
unwarranted claim to its proprietorship, or that the individuals before
him were intruders upon his own proper domain.

But for a considerable while, Servadac, the count, and the lieutenant
remained silent and sunk in thought. Here then, at last, was the
unriddling of the enigma they had been so long endeavoring to solve;
both the hypotheses they had formed in succession had now to give way
before the announcement of the real truth. The first supposition, that
the rotatory axis of the earth had been subject to some accidental
modification, and the conjecture that replaced it, namely, that a
certain portion of the terrestrial sphere had been splintered off and
carried into space, had both now to yield to the representation that
the earth had been grazed by an unknown comet, which had caught up some
scattered fragments from its surface, and was bearing them far away into
sidereal regions. Unfolded lay the past and the present before them; but
this only served to awaken a keener interest about the future. Could the
professor throw any light upon that? they longed to inquire, but did not
yet venture to ask him.

Meanwhile Rosette assumed a pompous professional air, and appeared to
be waiting for the entire party to be ceremoniously introduced to him.
Nothing unwilling to humor the vanity of the eccentric little man,
Servadac proceeded to go through the expected formalities.

"Allow me to present to you my excellent friend, the Count Timascheff,"
he said.

"You are very welcome," said Rosette, bowing to the count with a smile
of condescension.

"Although I am not precisely a voluntary resident on your comet, Mr.
Professor, I beg to acknowledge your courteous reception," gravely
responded Timascheff.

Servadac could not quite conceal his amusement at the count's irony, but
continued, "This is Lieutenant Procope, the officer in command of the
Dobryna
."

The professor bowed again in frigid dignity.

"His yacht has conveyed us right round Gallia," added the captain.

"Round Gallia?" eagerly exclaimed the professor.

"Yes, entirely round it," answered Servadac, and without allowing time
for reply, proceeded, "And this is my orderly, Ben Zoof."

"Aide-de-camp to his Excellency the Governor of Gallia," interposed Ben
Zoof himself, anxious to maintain his master's honor as well as his own.

Rosette scarcely bent his head.

The rest of the population of the Hive were all presented in succession:
the Russian sailors, the Spaniards, young Pablo, and little Nina, on
whom the professor, evidently no lover of children, glared fiercely
through his formidable spectacles. Isaac Hakkabut, after his
introduction, begged to be allowed to ask one question.

"How soon may we hope to get back?" he inquired.

"Get back!" rejoined Rosette, sharply; "who talks of getting back? We
have hardly started yet."

Seeing that the professor was inclined to get angry, Captain Servadac
adroitly gave a new turn to the conversation by asking him whether
he would gratify them by relating his own recent experiences. The
astronomer seemed pleased with the proposal, and at once commenced a
verbose and somewhat circumlocutory address, of which the following
summary presents the main features.

The French Government, being desirous of verifying the measurement
already made of the arc of the meridian of Paris, appointed a scientific
commission for that purpose. From that commission the name of Palmyrin
Rosette was omitted, apparently for no other reason than his personal
unpopularity. Furious at the slight, the professor resolved to set to
work independently on his own account, and declaring that there were
inaccuracies in the previous geodesic operations, he determined to
re-examine the results of the last triangulation which had united
Formentera to the Spanish coast by a triangle, one of the sides of which
measured over a hundred miles, the very operation which had already been
so successfully accomplished by Arago and Biot.

Accordingly, leaving Paris for the Balearic Isles, he placed his
observatory on the highest point of Formentera, and accompanied as he
was only by his servant, Joseph, led the life of a recluse. He secured
the services of a former assistant, and dispatched him to a high peak on
the coast of Spain, where he had to superintend a reverberator, which,
with the aid of a glass, could be seen from Formentera. A few books and
instruments, and two months' victuals, was all the baggage he took with
him, except an excellent astronomical telescope, which was, indeed,
almost part and parcel of himself, and with which he assiduously scanned
the heavens, in the sanguine anticipation of making some discovery which
would immortalize his name.

The task he had undertaken demanded the utmost patience. Night after
night, in order to fix the apex of his triangle, he had to linger on the
watch for the assistant's signal-light, but he did not forget that
his predecessors, Arago and Biot, had had to wait sixty-one days for a
similar purpose. What retarded the work was the dense fog which, it has
been already mentioned, at that time enveloped not only that part of
Europe, but almost the entire world.

Never failing to turn to the best advantage the few intervals when the
mist lifted a little, the astronomer would at the same time cast an
inquiring glance at the firmament, as he was greatly interested in the
revision of the chart of the heavens, in the region contiguous to the
constellation Gemini.

To the naked eye this constellation consists of only six stars, but
through a telescope ten inches in diameter, as many as six thousand
are visible. Rosette, however, did not possess a reflector of this
magnitude, and was obliged to content himself with the good but
comparatively small instrument he had.

On one of these occasions, whilst carefully gauging the recesses of
Gemini, he espied a bright speck which was unregistered in the chart,
and which at first he took for a small star that had escaped being
entered in the catalogue. But the observation of a few separate nights
soon made it manifest that the star was rapidly changing its position
with regard to the adjacent stars, and the astronomer's heart began to
leap at the thought that the renown of the discovery of a new planet
would be associated with his name.

Redoubling his attention, he soon satisfied himself that what he saw was
not a planet; the rapidity of its displacement rather forced him to
the conjecture that it must be a comet, and this opinion was soon
strengthened by the appearance of a coma, and subsequently confirmed, as
the body approached the sun, by the development of a tail.

A comet! The discovery was fatal to all further progress in the
triangulation. However conscientiously the assistant on the Spanish
coast might look to the kindling of the beacon, Rosette had no glances
to spare for that direction; he had no eyes except for the one object of
his notice, no thoughts apart from that one quarter of the firmament.

A comet! No time must be lost in calculating its elements.

Now, in order to calculate the elements of a comet, it is always deemed
the safest mode of procedure to assume the orbit to be a parabola.
Ordinarily, comets are conspicuous at their perihelia, as being their
shortest distances from the sun, which is the focus of their orbit,
and inasmuch as a parabola is but an ellipse with its axis indefinitely
produced, for some short portion of its pathway the orbit may be
indifferently considered either one or the other; but in this particular
case the professor was right in adopting the supposition of its being
parabolic.

Just as in a circle, it is necessary to know three points to determine
the circumference; so in ascertaining the elements of a comet, three
different positions must be observed before what astronomers call its
"ephemeris" can be established.

But Professor Rosette did not content himself with three positions;
taking advantage of every rift in the fog he made ten, twenty, thirty
observations both in right ascension and in declination, and succeeded
in working out with the most minute accuracy the five elements of the
comet which was evidently advancing with astounding rapidity towards the
earth.

These elements were:

1. The inclination of the plane of the cometary orbit to the plane of
the ecliptic, an angle which is generally considerable, but in this case
the planes were proved to coincide.

2. The position of the ascending node, or the point where the comet
crossed the terrestrial orbit.

These two elements being obtained, the position in space of the comet's
orbit was determined.

3. The direction of the axis major of the orbit, which was found by
calculating the longitude of the comet's perihelion.

4. The perihelion distance from the sun, which settled the precise form
of the parabola.

5. The motion of the comet, as being retrograde, or, unlike the planets,
from east to west.

Rosette thus found himself able to calculate the date at which the comet
would reach its perihelion, and, overjoyed at his discovery, without
thinking of calling it Palmyra or Rosette, after his own name, he
resolved that it should be known as Gallia.

His next business was to draw up a formal report. Not only did he at
once recognize that a collision with the earth was possible, but he soon
foresaw that it was inevitable, and that it must happen on the night of
the 31st of December; moreover, as the bodies were moving in opposite
directions, the shock could hardly fail to be violent.

To say that he was elated at the prospect was far below the truth; his
delight amounted almost to delirium. Anyone else would have hurried from
the solitude of Formentera in sheer fright; but, without communicating
a word of his startling discovery, he remained resolutely at his post.
From occasional newspapers which he had received, he had learnt that
fogs, dense as ever, continued to envelop both hemispheres, so that
he was assured that the existence of the comet was utterly unknown
elsewhere; and the ignorance of the world as to the peril that
threatened it averted the panic that would have followed the publication
of the facts, and left the philosopher of Formentera in sole possession
of the great secret. He clung to his post with the greater persistency,
because his calculations had led him to the conclusion that the comet
would strike the earth somewhere to the south of Algeria, and as it had
a solid nucleus, he felt sure that, as he expressed it, the effect would
be "unique," and he was anxious to be in the vicinity.

The shock came, and with it the results already recorded. Palmyrin
Rosette was suddenly separated from his servant Joseph, and when, after
a long period of unconsciousness, he came to himself, he found that
he was the solitary occupant of the only fragment that survived of the
Balearic Archipelago.

Such was the substance of the narrative which the professor gave
with sundry repetitions and digressions; while he was giving it, he
frequently paused and frowned as if irritated in a way that seemed by
no means justified by the patient and good-humored demeanor of his
audience.