"So," said Nicholl, "there is a hemisphere, that invisible
hemisphere which is very ill supplied, very ill treated,
by nature."

"Never mind," replied Michel; "if we ever become Selenites, we
will inhabit the visible face. I like the light."

"Unless, by any chance," answered Nicholl, "the atmosphere should
be condensed on the other side, as certain astronomers pretend."

"That would be a consideration," said Michel.

Breakfast over, the observers returned to their post. They tried
to see through the darkened scuttles by extinguishing all light
in the projectile; but not a luminous spark made its way through
the darkness.

One inexplicable fact preoccupied Barbicane. Why, having passed
within such a short distance of the moon--about twenty-five
miles only-- why the projectile had not fallen? If its speed
had been enormous, he could have understood that the fall would
not have taken place; but, with a relatively moderate speed,
that resistance to the moon's attraction could not be explained.
Was the projectile under some foreign influence? Did some kind
of body retain it in the ether? It was quite evident that it
could never reach any point of the moon. Whither was it going?
Was it going farther from, or nearing, the disc? Was it being
borne in that profound darkness through the infinity of space?
How could they learn, how calculate, in the midst of this night?
All these questions made Barbicane uneasy, but he could not