“Keep it secret! Keep it secret!” shouted the spectators.
“We will keep it secret!” said Barbicane.
Baldenak and Co. protested in vain. The orator continued,—
“As to the results of this mechanical operation—an operation unprecedented in industrial annals—which we have undertaken and will bring to a successful issue thanks to your capital, I will say a few words.”
“Listen! listen!” shouted the crowd.
“The first idea of our enterprise occurred to one of the most learned, devoted, and illustrious of our colleagues. To him also belongs the glory of having made the calculations which rendered the theory practicable, for if the development of the Polar mines is child’s play, the displacement of the Pole is a problem which higher mechanics can alone deal with. That is why we addressed ourselves to our worthy secretary, J. T. Maston!”
“Hurrah! Hip ! hip ! hip! hurrah! for J. T. Maston!” shouted the whole assembly, electrified by the presence among them of that extraordinary man.
Ah! How much was Mrs. Scorbitt moved at the acclamations which resounded round the celebrated calculator!
He, with great modesty, bowed his head to the right; then to the left, and then saluted in front with his metal hook.
“Already,” said Barbicane, “when the great meeting which celebrated the arrival in America of the Frenchman Michel Ardan, a few months before our departure for the Moon—”