"Ah! fools that we are!" exclaimed Michel.
"Why that expletive?" asked Barbicane.
"Because we might have filled the projectile with useful objects, books, instruments, tools, &c. We could have thrown them all out, and all would have followed in our train. But happy thought! Why cannot we walk outside like the meteor? Why cannot we launch into space through the scuttle? What enjoyment it would be to feel oneself thus suspended in ether, more favoured than the birds who must use their wings to keep themselves up!"
IT WAS THE BODY OF SATELLITE.
"Granted," said Barbicane, "but how to breathe?"
"Hang the air, to fail so inopportunely!"
"But if it did not fail, Michel, your density being less than that of the projectile, you would soon be left behind."
"Then we must remain in our car?"
"We must!"