“And public opinion, which will not permit you to again risk the fate of the world?” added Mrs. Scorbitt.
“What will become of the North Pole?” asked Nicholl.
“What is the value of the shares in the North Polar Practical Association?” asked Barbicane.
Oh, what a fall there had been thereof! The certificates could be bought at waste-paper prices.
Such was the memorable fiasco of the gigantic project of Barbicane & Co.
If ever unfortunate engineers were overwhelmed with ridicule, if ever there were amusing articles in the newspapers, caricatures, comic songs, parodies—it was then. Barbicane, the director of the Association, the members of the Gun Club, were literally covered with scorn. The storm of contempt was so thoroughly American that it was untranslatable even in Volapuk. And Europe joined in with such vigour that at last America was scandalized. And then remembering that Barbicane, Nicholl, and Maston were of American birth, and belonged to the famous club of Baltimore, a reaction in their favour set in, which was almost strong enough to make the United States declare war against the Old World.
But was it ever to be known why the enterprise failed? Did the failure prove that the project was impossible, that the forces of which man disposes will never be sufficient to bring about a change in the Earth’s diurnal movement, that never would the Polar regions be displaced in latitude to such an extent that their icy mantle will be melted by the solar rays?
That this was the case appeared undoubted a few days after the return of Barbicane and Nicholl to the United States.
A letter appeared in the Parisian Temps of the 17th of October, which did mankind a service in confirming it in its feeling of security.
The letter was the following:—