"Ouf!" said Michel, "half of v zero square! Do speak the vulgar tongue, man of algebra!"
"Well, then, in popular language," answered Barbicane, "the mean distance between the moon and the earth being sixty terrestrial radii, the length of the cone of shadow, by dint of refraction, is reduced to less than forty-two radii. It follows, therefore, that during the eclipses the moon is beyond the cone of pure shade, and the sun sends it not only rays from its edges, but also rays from its centre."
"Then," said Michel in a grumbling tone, "why is there any eclipse when there ought to be none?"
"Solely because the solar rays are weakened by the refraction, and the atmosphere which they traverse extinguishes the greater part of them."
"That reason satisfies me," answered Michel; "besides, we shall see for ourselves when we get there. Now, Barbicane, do you believe that the moon is an ancient comet?"
"What an idea!"
"Yes," replied Michel, with amiable conceit, "I have a few ideas of that kind."
"But that idea does not originate with Michel," answered Nicholl.
"Then I am only a plagiarist."
"Without doubt," answered Nicholl. "According to the testimony of the ancients, the Arcadians pretended that their ancestors inhabited the earth before the moon became her satellite. Starting from this fact, certain savants think the moon was a comet which its orbit one day brought near enough to the earth to be retained by terrestrial attraction."