"Ah!" exclaimed Michel, in a loud voice.
"What is the matter," asked Nicholl.
"I know, I guess, what this pretended meteor is! It is no asteroid which is accompanying us! It is not a piece of a planet."
"What is it then?" asked Barbicane.
"It is our unfortunate dog! It is Diana's husband!"
Indeed, this deformed, unrecognizable object, reduced to nothing, was the body of Satellite, flattened like a bagpipe without wind, and ever mounting, mounting!
CHAPTER VII.
A MOMENT OF INTOXICATION.
Thus a phenomenon, curious but explicable, was happening under these strange conditions.
Every object thrown from the projectile would follow the same course and never stop until it did. There was a subject for conversation which the whole evening could not exhaust.