Off on a Comet by Jules Verne (best non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

victuals, was all the baggage he took with him, except an excellent

astronomical telescope, which was, indeed, almost part and parcel

of himself, and with which he assiduously scanned the heavens,

in the sanguine anticipation of making some discovery which would

immortalize his name.

The task he had undertaken demanded the utmost patience.

Night after night, in order to fix the apex of his triangle,

he had to linger on the watch for the assistant’s signal-light,

but he did not forget that his predecessors, Arago and Biot,

had had to wait sixty-one days for a similar purpose.

What retarded the work was the dense fog which, it has been

already mentioned, at that time enveloped not only that part

of Europe, but almost the entire world.

Never failing to turn to the best advantage the few intervals

when the mist lifted a little, the astronomer would at the same

time cast an inquiring glance at the firmament, as he was

greatly interested in the revision of the chart of the heavens,

in the region contiguous to the constellation Gemini.

To the naked eye this constellation consists of only six stars, but through

a telescope ten inches in diameter, as many as six thousand are visible.

Rosette, however, did not possess a reflector of this magnitude,

and was obliged to content himself with the good but comparatively small

instrument he had.

On one of these occasions, whilst carefully gauging the recesses

of Gemini, he espied a bright speck which was unregistered in the chart,

and which at first he took for a small star that had escaped being

entered in the catalogue. But the observation of a few separate nights

soon made it manifest that the star was rapidly changing its position

with regard to the adjacent stars, and the astronomer’s heart began

to leap at the thought that the renown of the discovery of a new planet

would be associated with his name.

Redoubling his attention, he soon satisfied himself that what

he saw was not a planet; the rapidity of its displacement

rather forced him to the conjecture that it must be a comet,

and this opinion was soon strengthened by the appearance of a coma,

and subsequently confirmed, as the body approached the sun,

by the development of a tail.

A comet! The discovery was fatal to all further progress

in the triangulation. However conscientiously the assistant

on the Spanish coast might look to the kindling of the beacon,

Rosette had no glances to spare for that direction;

he had no eyes except for the one object of his notice,

no thoughts apart from that one quarter of the firmament.

A comet! No time must be lost in calculating its elements.

Now, in order to calculate the elements of a comet, it is always

deemed the safest mode of procedure to assume the orbit to be

a parabola. Ordinarily, comets are conspicuous at their perihelia,

as being their shortest distances from the sun, which is the focus

of their orbit, and inasmuch as a parabola is but an ellipse with its

axis indefinitely produced, for some short portion of its pathway

the orbit may be indifferently considered either one or the other;

but in this particular case the professor was right in adopting

the supposition of its being parabolic.

Just as in a circle, it is necessary to know three points to determine

the circumference; so in ascertaining the elements of a comet,

three different positions must be observed before what astronomers

call its “ephemeris” can be established.

But Professor Rosette did not content himself with three positions;

taking advantage of every rift in the fog he made ten, twenty,

thirty observations both in right ascension and in declination,

and succeeded in working out with the most minute accuracy the five

elements of the comet which was evidently advancing with astounding

rapidity towards the earth.

These elements were:

l. The inclination of the plane of the cometary orbit to the plane

of the ecliptic, an angle which is generally considerable,

but in this case the planes were proved to coincide.

2. The position of the ascending node, or the point where the comet

crossed the terrestrial orbit.

These two elements being obtained, the position in space of the comet’s

orbit was determined.

3. The direction of the axis major of the orbit, which was found

by calculating the longitude of the comet’s perihelion.

4. The perihelion distance from the sun, which settled the precise form

of the parabola.

5. The motion of the comet, as being retrograde, or, unlike the planets,

from east to west.

Rosette thus found himself able to calculate the date at which the comet

would reach its perihelion, and, overjoyed at his discovery,

without thinking of calling it Palmyra or Rosette,

after his own name, he resolved that it should be known as Gallia.

His next business was to draw up a formal report.

Not only did he at once recognize that a collision with the earth

was possible, but he soon foresaw that it was inevitable,

and that it must happen on the night of the 31st of December;

moreover, as the bodies were moving in opposite directions,

the shock could hardly fail to be violent.

To say that he was elated at the prospect was far below the truth;

his delight amounted almost to delirium. Anyone else would have hurried

from the solitude of Formentera in sheer fright; but, without communicating

a word of his startling discovery, he remained resolutely at his post.

From occasional newspapers which he had received, he had learnt that fogs,

dense as ever, continued to envelop both hemispheres, so that he was

assured that the existence of the comet was utterly unknown elsewhere;

and the ignorance of the world as to the peril that threatened it averted

the panic that would have followed the publication of the facts, and left

the philosopher of Formentera in sole possession of the great secret.

He clung to his post with the greater persistency, because his calculations

had led him to the conclusion that the comet would strike the earth somewhere

to the south of Algeria, and as it had a solid nucleus, he felt sure that,

as he expressed it, the effect would be “unique,” and he was anxious to be

in the vicinity.

The shock came, and with it the results already recorded.

Palmyrin Rosette was suddenly separated from his servant Joseph,

and when, after a long period of unconsciousness, he came to himself,

he found that he was the solitary occupant of the only fragment

that survived of the Balearic Archipelago.

Such was the substance of the narrative which the professor gave

with sundry repetitions and digressions; while he was giving it,

he frequently paused and frowned as if irritated in a way that seemed

by no means justified by the patient and good-humored demeanor

of his audience.

“But now, gentlemen,” added the professor, “I must tell you something more.

Important changes have resulted from the collision; the cardinal points

have been displaced; gravity has been diminished: not that I ever

supposed for a minute, as you did, that I was still upon the earth.

No! the earth, attended by her moon, continued to rotate along

her proper orbit. But we, gentlemen, have nothing to complain of;

our destiny might have been far worse; we might all have been crushed

to death, or the comet might have remained in adhesion to the earth;

and in neither of these cases should we have had the satisfaction

of making this marvelous excursion through untraversed solar regions.

No, gentlemen, I repeat it, we have nothing to regret.”

And as the professor spoke, he seemed to kindle with the emotion of such

supreme contentment that no one had the heart to gainsay his assertion.

Ben Zoof alone ventured an unlucky remark to the effect that if the comet

had happened to strike against Montmartre, instead of a bit of Africa,

it would have met with some resistance.

“Pshaw!” said Rosette, disdainfully. “A mole-hill like Montmartre

would have been ground to powder in a moment.”

“Mole-hill!” exclaimed Ben Zoof, stung to the quick.

“I can tell you it would have caught up your bit of a comet

and worn it like a feather in a cap.”

The professor looked angry, and Servadac having imposed silence

upon his orderly, explained the worthy soldier’s sensitiveness

on all that concerned Montmartre. Always obedient to his master,

Ben Zoof held his tongue; but he felt that he could never forgive

the slight that had been cast upon his beloved home.

It was now all-important to learn whether the astronomer had been able

to continue his observations, and whether he had learned sufficient

of Gallia’s path through space to make him competent to determine,

at least approximately, the period of its revolution round the sun.

With as much tact and caution as he could, Lieutenant Procope endeavored

to intimate the general desire for some information on this point.

“Before the shock, sir,” answered the professor, “I had conclusively

demonstrated the path of the comet; but, in consequence of the

modifications which that shock has entailed upon my comet’s orbit,

I have been compelled entirely to recommence my calculations.”

The lieutenant looked disappointed.

“Although the orbit of the earth was unaltered,” continued the professor,

“the result of the collision was the projection of the comet into

a new orbit altogether.”

“And may I ask,” said Procope, deferentially, “whether you have got

the elements of the fresh orbit?”

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps you know—”

” I know this, sir, that at 47 minutes 35.6 seconds after two

o’clock on the morning of the 1st of January last, Gallia,

in passing its ascending node, came in contact with the earth;

that on the 10th of January it crossed the orbit of Venus;

that it reached its perihelion on the 15th; that it re-crossed

the orbit of Venus; that on the 1st of February it passed

its descending node; on the 13th crossed the orbit of Mars;

entered the zone of the telescopic planets on the 10th of March,

and, attracting Nerina, carried it off as a satellite.”

Servadac interposed:

“We are already acquainted with well-nigh all these extraordinary facts;

many of them, moreover, we have learned from documents which we have

picked up, and which, although unsigned, we cannot entertain a doubt

have originated with you.”

Professor Rosette drew himself up proudly and said:

“Of course, they originated with me. I sent them off by hundreds.

From whom else could they come?”

“From no one but yourself, certainly,” rejoined the count,

with grave politeness.

Hitherto the conversation had thrown no light upon the future movements

of Gallia, and Rosette was disposed apparently to evade, or at least

to postpone, the subject. When, therefore, Lieutenant Procope was about

to press his inquiries in a more categorical form, Servadac, thinking it

advisable not prematurely to press the little savant too far,

interrupted him by asking the professor how he accounted for the earth

having suffered so little from such a formidable concussion.

“I account for it in this way,” answered Rosette: “the earth

was traveling at the rate of 28,000 leagues an hour, and Gallia

at the rate of 57,000 leagues an hour, therefore the result

was the same as though a train rushing along at a speed of about

86,000 leagues an hour had suddenly encountered some obstacle.

The nucleus of the comet, being excessively hard, has done exactly

what a ball would do fired with that velocity close to a pane of glass.

It has crossed the earth without cracking it.”

“It is possible you may be right,” said Servadac, thoughtfully.

“Right!