"Time has no right to keep a whole country in suspense," answered the orator. "Have you altered your plans for the projectile as the telegram demanded?"
"Not yet, gentlemen; but you are right, we must have recourse to the telegraph that has caused all this emotion."
"To the telegraph-office!" cried the crowd.
Barbicane descended into the street, and, heading the immense assemblage, he went towards the telegraph-office.
A few minutes afterwards a telegram was on its way to the underwriters at Liverpool, asking for an answer to the following questions:—
"What sort of vessel is the Atlanta? When did she leave Europe? Had she a Frenchman named Michel Ardan on board?"
Two hours afterwards Barbicane received such precise information that doubt was no longer possible.
"The steamer Atlanta, from Liverpool, set sail on October 2nd for Tampa Town, having on board a Frenchman inscribed in the passengers' book as Michel Ardan."
At this confirmation of the first telegram the eyes of the president were lighted up with a sudden flame; he clenched his hands, and was heard to mutter—
"It is true, then! It is possible, then! the Frenchman does exist! and in a fortnight he will be here! But he is a madman! I never can consent."