“And if there are no Selenites?” retorted Nicholl, who, under the influence of this unaccountable intoxication, was very contradictory.
“Who said that there were no Selenites?” exclaimed Michel in a threatening tone.
“I do,” howled Nicholl.
“Captain,” said Michel, “do not repeat that insolence, or I will knock your teeth down your throat!”
The two adversaries were going to fall upon each other, and the incoherent discussion threatened to merge into a fight, when Barbicane intervened with one bound.
“Stop, miserable men,” said he, separating his two companions; “if there are no Selenites, we will do without them.”
“Yes,” exclaimed Michel, who was not particular; “yes, we will do without them. We have only to make Selenites. Down with the Selenites!”
“The empire of the moon belongs to us,” said Nicholl.
“Let us three constitute the republic.”
“I will be the congress,” cried Michel.