throughout the French army, but rarely performed in finer style
than by this _virtuoso:_

_"Misti goth dar dar tire lyre!
Flic! floc! flac! lirette, lira!

Far la rira,
Tour tala rire,

Tour la Ribaud,
Ricandeau,

Sans repos, repit, repit, repos, ris pot, ripette!
Si vous attrapez mon refrain,

Fameux vous etes."_
The concert was succeeded by a ball, unquestionably the first that had

ever taken place in Gallia. The Russian sailors exhibited some of their
national dances, which gained considerableapplause, even although they

followed upon the marvelous fandangos of the Spaniards. Ben Zoof,
in his turn, danced a _pas seul_ (often performed in the Elysee Montmartre)

with an elegance and vigor that earned many compliments from Negrete.
It was nine o'clock before the festivities came to an end, and by

that time the company, heated by the high temperature of the hall,
and by their own exertions, felt the want of a little fresh air.

Accordingly the greater portion of the party, escorted by Ben Zoof,
made their way into one of the adjacent galleries that led to the shore.

Servadac, with the count and lieutenant, did not follow immediately;
but shortly afterwards they proceeded to join them, when on their way

they were startled by loud cries from those in advance.
Their first impression was that they were cries of distress,

and they were greatly relieved to find that they were shouts
of delight, which the dryness and purity of the atmosphere

caused to re-echo like a volley of musketry.
Reaching the mouth of the gallery, they found the entire group pointing

with eager interest to the sky.
"Well, Ben Zoof," asked the captain, "what's the matter now?"

"Oh, your Excellency," ejaculated the orderly, "look there! look there!
The moon! the moon's come back!"

And, sure enough, what was apparently the moon was rising above
the mists of evening.

CHAPTER XXII
A FROZEN OCEAN

The moon! She had disappeared for weeks; was she now returning?
Had she been faithless to the earth? and had she now approached

to be a satellite of the new-born world?
"Impossible!" said Lieutenant Procope; "the earth is millions

and millions of leagues away, and it is not probable that the moon
has ceased to revolve about her."

"Why not?" remonstrated Servadac. "It would not be more strange
than the other phenomena which we have lately witnessed.

Why should not the moon have fallen within the limits of
Gallia's attraction, and become her satellite?"

"Upon that supposition," put in the count, "I should think that it
would be altogetherunlikely that three months would elapse without

our seeing her."
"Quite incredible!" continued Procope. "And there is another

thing which totally disproves the captain's hypothesis;
the magnitude of Gallia is far too insignificant for her power

of attraction to carry off the moon."
"But," persisted Servadac, "why should not the same convulsion

that tore us away from the earth have torn away the moon as well?
After wandering about as she would for a while in the solar regions,

I do not see why she should not have attached herself to us."
The lieutenantrepeated his conviction that it was not likely.

"But why not?" again asked Servadac impetuously.
"Because, I tell you, the mass of Gallia is so inferior to that

of the moon, that Gallia would become the moon's satellite;
the moon could not possibly become hers."

"Assuming, however," continued Servadac, "such to be the case--"
"I am afraid," said the lieutenant, interrupting him, "that I

cannot assume anything of the sort even for a moment."
Servadac smiled good-humoredly.

"I confess you seem to have the best of the argument,
and if Gallia had become a satellite of the moon,

it would not have taken three months to catch sight of her.
I suppose you are right."

While this discussion had been going on, the satellite,
or whatever it might be, had been rising steadily above the horizon,

and had reached a position favorable for observation.
Telescopes were brought, and it was very soon ascertained,

beyond a question, that the new luminary was not the well-known Phoebe
of terrestrial nights; it had no feature in common with the moon.

Although it was apparently much nearer to Gallia than the moon
to the earth, its superficies was hardly one-tenth as large,

and so feebly did it reflect the light of the remote sun,
that it scarcely emitted radiance enough to extinguish

the dim luster of stars of the eighth magnitude.
Like the sun, it had risen in the west, and was now at its full.

To mistake its identity with the moon was absolutely impossible;
not even Servadac could discover a trace of the seas,

chasms, craters, and mountains which have been so minutely
delineated in lunar charts, and it could not be denied that any

transient hope that had been excited as to their once again
being about to enjoy the peaceful smiles of "the queen of night"

must all be resigned.
Count Timascheff finally suggested, though somewhat doubtfully,

the question of the probability that Gallia, in her course across
the zone of the minor planets, had carried off one of them;

but whether it was one of the 169 asteroids already included
in the astronomical catalogues, or one previously unknown, he did

not presume to determine. The idea to a certain extent was plausible,
inasmuch as it has been ascertained that several of the telescopic

planets are of such small dimensions that a good walker might make
a circuit of them in four and twenty hours; consequently Gallia,

being of superior volume, might be supposedcapable of exercising
a power of attraction upon any of these miniature microcosms.

The first night in Nina's Hive passed without special incident;
and next morning a regular scheme of life was definitely laid down.

"My lord governor," as Ben Zoof until he was peremptorily forbidden
delighted to call Servadac, had a wholesome dread of idleness

and its consequences, and insisted upon each member of the party
undertaking some special duty to fulfill. There was plenty to do.

The domestic animals required a great deal of attention; a supply
of food had to be secured and preserved; fishing had to be carried

on while the condition of the sea would allow it; and in several
places the galleries had to be further excavated to render them

more available for use. Occupation, then, need never be wanting,
and the daily round of labor could go on in orderly routine.

A perfect concord ruled the little colony. The Russians and Spaniards
amalgamated well, and both did their best to pick up various scraps

of French, which was considered the official language of the place.
Servadac himself undertake的过去式">undertook the tuition of Pablo and Nina, Ben Zoof being

their companion in play-hours, when he entertained them with enchanting
stories in the best Parisian French, about "a lovely city at the foot

of a mountain," where he always promised one day to take them.
The end of March came, but the cold was not intense to such a degree

as to confine any of the party to the interior of their resort;
several excursions were made along the shore, and for a radius

of three or four miles the adjacent district was carefully explored.
Investigation, however, always ended in the same result; turn their course

in whatever direction they would, they found that the country retained
everywhere its desert character, rocky, barren, and without a trace

of vegetation. Here and there a slight layer of snow, or a thin coating
of ice arising from atmosphericcondensation indicated the existence

of superficialmoisture, but it would require a period indefinitely long,
exceeding human reckoning, before that moisture could collect

into a stream and roll downwards over the stony strata to the sea.
It seemed at present out of their power to determine whether the land

upon which they were so happily settled was an island or a continent,
and till the cold was abated they feared to undertake any lengthened

expedition to ascertain the actualextent of the strange concrete
of metallic crystallization.

By ascending one day to the summit of the volcano, Captain Servadac and
the count succeeded in getting a general idea of the aspect of the country.

The mountain itself was an enormous block rising symmetrically to a height of
nearly 3,000 feet above the level of the sea, in the form of a truncated cone,

of which the topmost section was crowned by a wreath of smoke issuing
continuously from the mouth of a narrow crater.