Fortunately, Ben Zoof appeared with a great cup, hot and strong. After draining it with much apparent relish, the professor got out of bed, walked into the common hall, round which he glanced with a pre-occupied air, and proceeded to seat himself in an armchair, the most comfortable which the cabin of the Dobryna had supplied. Then, in a voice full of satisfaction, and that involuntarily recalled the exclamations of delight that had wound up the two first of the mysterious documents that had been received, he burst out, “Well, gentlemen, what do you think of Gallia?”
There was no time for anyone to make a reply before Isaac Hakkabut had darted forward.
“By the God—”
“Who is that?” asked the startled professor; and he frowned, and made a gesture of repugnance.
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.”