Off on a Comet by Jules Verne Read Free Book Online Page B

disc, of which he had had an imperfect glimpse on the night of
the 31st of December, might again reveal itself; at any rate, he hoped
for an opportunity of observing the constellations in a clear firmament
above.
    The night was magnificent. Not a cloud dimmed the luster of the stars,
which spangled the heavens in surpassing brilliancy, and several nebulae
which hitherto no astronomer had been able to discern without the aid of
a telescope were clearly visible to the naked eye.
    By a natural impulse, Servadac's first thought was to observe the
position of the pole-star. It was in sight, but so near to the horizon
as to suggest the utter impossibility of its being any longer the
central pivot of the sidereal system; it occupied a position through
which it was out of the question that the axis of the earth indefinitely
prolonged could ever pass. In his impression he was more thoroughly
confirmed when, an hour later, he noticed that the star had approached
still nearer the horizon, as though it had belonged to one of the
zodiacal constellations.
    The pole-star being manifestly thus displaced, it remained to be
discovered whether any other of the celestial bodies had become a
fixed center around which the constellations made their apparent daily
revolutions. To the solution of this problem Servadac applied himself
with the most thoughtful diligence. After patient observation, he
satisfied himself that the required conditions were answered by a
certain star that was stationary not far from the horizon. This
was Vega, in the constellation Lyra, a star which, according to the
precession of the equinoxes, will take the place of our pole-star 12,000
years hence. The most daring imagination could not suppose that a period
of 12,000 years had been crowded into the space of a fortnight; and
therefore the captain came, as to an easier conclusion, to the opinion
that the earth's axis had been suddenly and immensely shifted; and
from the fact that the axis, if produced, would pass through a point
so little removed above the horizon, he deduced the inference that the
Mediterranean must have been transported to the equator.
    Lost in bewildering maze of thought, he gazed long and intently upon the
heavens. His eyes wandered from where the tail of the Great Bear, now a
zodiacal constellation, was scarcely visible above the waters, to where
the stars of the southern hemisphere were just breaking on his view. A
cry from Ben Zoof recalled him to himself.
    "The moon!" shouted the orderly, as though overjoyed at once again
beholding what the poet has called:
    "The kind companion of terrestrial night;"
    and he pointed to a disc that was rising at a spot precisely opposite
the place where they would have expected to see the sun. "The moon!"
again he cried.
    But Captain Servadac could not altogether enter into his servant's
enthusiasm. If this were actually the moon, her distance from the
earth must have been increased by some millions of miles. He was rather
disposed to suspect that it was not the earth's satellite at all,
but some planet with its apparent magnitude greatly enlarged by its
approximation to the earth. Taking up the powerful field-glass which
he was accustomed to use in his surveying operations, he proceeded to
investigate more carefully the luminous orb. But he failed to trace
any of the lineaments, supposed to resemble a human face, that mark the
lunar surface; he failed to decipher any indications of hill and plain;
nor could he make out the aureole of light which emanates from what
astronomers have designated Mount Tycho. "It is not the moon," he said
slowly.
    "Not the moon?" cried Ben Zoof. "Why not?"
    "It is not the moon," again affirmed the captain.
    "Why not?" repeated Ben Zoof, unwilling to renounce his first
impression.
    "Because there is a small satellite in attendance." And the captain drew
his servant's attention to a bright speck, apparently about the size of
one of Jupiter's satellites seen through a moderate telescope,