think
it could be accomplished," he repeated. "The project may appear
extravagant, but I do not know why it should be impossible. Ben Zoof has
hit the right nail on the head; we must try and leave Gallia before the
shock."

"Leave Gallia! How?" said Count Timascheff.

The lieutenant did not at once reply. He continued pondering for a time,
and at last said, slowly and distinctly, "By making a balloon!"

Servadac's heart sank.

"A balloon!" he exclaimed. "Out of the question! Balloons are exploded
things. You hardly find them in novels. Balloon, indeed!"

"Listen to me," replied Procope. "Perhaps I can convince you that my
idea is not so chimerical as you imagine." And, knitting his brow, he
proceeded to establish the feasibility of his plan. "If we can ascertain
the precise moment when the shock is to happen, and can succeed
in launching ourselves a sufficient time beforehand into Gallia's
atmosphere, I believe it will transpire that this atmosphere will
amalgamate with that of the earth, and that a balloon whirled along by
the combined velocity would glide into the mingled atmosphere and remain
suspended in mid-air until the shock of the collision is overpast."

Count Timascheff reflected for a minute, and said, "I think, lieutenant,
I understand your project. The scheme seems tenable; and I shall be
ready to co-operate with you, to the best of my power, in putting it
into execution."

"Only, remember," continued Procope, "there are many chances to one
against our success. One instant's obstruction and stoppage in our
passage, and our balloon is burnt to ashes. Still, reluctant as I am to
acknowledge it, I confess that I feel our sole hope of safety rests in
our getting free from this comet."

"If the chances were ten thousand to one against us," said Servadac, "I
think the attempt ought to be made."

"But have we hydrogen enough to inflate a balloon?" asked the count.

"Hot air will be all that we shall require," the lieutenant answered;
"we are only contemplating about an hour's journey."

"Ah, a fire-balloon! A montgolfier!" cried Servadac. "But what are you
going to do for a casing?"

"I have thought of that. We must cut it out of the sails of the
_Dobryna_; they are both light and strong," rejoined the lieutenant.
Count Timascheff complimented the lieutenant upon his ingenuity, and Ben
Zoof could not resist bringing the meeting to a conclusion by a ringing
cheer.

Truly daring was the plan of whi