astonished if, in the eyes of our friends at Stony Hill, it had
resembled for a moment or two a red-hot meteor."

"Poor Marston must have looked on us as roasted alive!" observed Ardan.

"What could have saved us I'm sure I can't tell," replied Barbican. "I
must acknowledge that against such a danger, I had made no provision
whatever."

"I knew all about it," said the Captain, "and on the strength of it, I
had laid my fifth wager."

"Probably," laughed Ardan, "there was not time enough to get grilled in:
I have heard of men who dipped their fingers into molten iron with
impunity."

Whilst Ardan and the Captain were arguing the point, Barbican began
busying himself in making everything as comfortable as if, instead of a
four days' journey, one of four years was contemplated. The reader, no
doubt, remembers that the floor of the Projectile contained about 50
square feet; that the chamber was nine feet high; that space was
economized as much as possible, nothing but the most absolute
necessities being admitted, of which each was kept strictly in its own
place; therefore, the travellers had room enough to move around in with
a certain liberty. The thick glass window in the floor was quite as
solid as any other part of it; but the Sun, streaming in from below,
lit up the Projectile strangely, producing some very singular and
startling effects of light appearing to come in by the wrong way.

The first thing now to be done was to see after the water cask and the