The Projectile, impelled and maintained by forces inexplicable and even incomprehensible, had come within less than thirty miles from the Moon's north pole.

But during those two hours of immersion in the dark shadow, had this distance been increased or diminished?
There was evidently no stand-point whereby to estimate either the Projectile's direction or its velocity.

Perhaps, moving rapidly away from the Moon, it would be soon out of her shadow altogether.

Perhaps, on the contrary, gradually approaching her surface, it might come into contact at any moment with some sharp invisible peak of the Lunar mountains--a catastrophe sure to put a sudden end to the trip, and the travellers too.
An excited discussion on this subject soon sprang up, in which all naturally took part.

Ardan's imagination as usual getting the better of his reason, he maintained very warmly that the Projectile, caught and retained by the Moon's attraction, could not help falling on her surface, just as an aerolite cannot help falling on our Earth.
"Softly, dear boy, softly," replied Barbican; "aerolites _can_ help falling on the Earth, and the proof is, that few of them _do_ fall--most of them don't.