still as strong as ever, and, being made in compartments fastened by
screws, to dismount it was no easy matter. Barbican, however, with the
help of the others, soon had it all taken apart, and put away the pieces
carefully, to serve again in case of need. A round hole about a foot and
a half in diameter appeared, bored through the floor of the Projectile.
It was closed by a circular pane of plate-glass, which was about six
inches thick, fastened by a ring of copper. Below, on the outside, the
glass was protected by an aluminium plate, kept in its place by strong
bolts and nuts. The latter being unscrewed, the bolts slipped out by
their own weight, the shutter fell, and a new communication was
established between the interior and the exterior.

Ardan knelt down, applied his eye to the light, and tried to look out.
At first everything was quite dark and gloomy.

"I see no Earth!" he exclaimed at last.

"Don't you see a fine ribbon of light?" asked Barbican, "right beneath
us? A thin, pale, silvery crescent?"

"Of course I do. Can that be the Earth?"

"_Terra Mater_ herself, friend Ardan. That fine fillet of light, now
hardly visible on her eastern border, will disappear altogether as soon
as the Moon is full. Then, lying as she will be between the Sun and the
Moon, her illuminated face will be turned away from us altogether, and
for several days she will be involved in impenetrable darkness."

"And that's the Earth!" repeated Ardan, hardly able to believe his eyes,
as he continued to gaze on the slight thread of silvery white light,