<h2 id="sigil_toc_id_35">CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
<h3 id="sigil_toc_id_36">A TELEGRAPHIC DESPATCH.</h3>
<p>The great works undertaken by the Gun Club had now virtually come
to an end; and two months still remained before the day for the
discharge of the shot to the moon. To the general impatience these
two months appeared as long as years! Hitherto the smallest details
of the operation had been daily chronicled by the journals, which the
public devoured with eager eyes.</p>
<p>Just at this moment a circumstance, the most unexpected, the most
extraordinary and incredible, occurred to rouse afresh their panting
spirits, and to throw every mind into a state of the most violent
excitement.</p>
<p>One day, the 30th September, at 3.47 p.m., a telegram, transmitted
by cable from Valentia (Ireland) to Newfoundland and the American
mainland, arrived at the address of President Barbicane.</p>
<p>The President tore open the envelope, read the despatch, and,
despite his remarkable powers of self-control, his lips turned pale
and his eyes grew dim, on reading the twenty words of this
telegram.</p>
<p>Here is the text of the despatch, which figures now in the
archives of the Gun Club:—</p>
<blockquote>
<p><span class="smallcap">"France, Paris,</span><br/>
<br/>
"30 <i>September</i>, 4 <i>a.m.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Barbicane, Tampa Town, Florida, United States.<br/>
<br/>
"Substitute for your spherical shell a cylindro-conical projectile. I
shall go inside. Shall arrive by steamer 'Atlanta.'<br/>
<br/>
<span class="smallcap">"Michel Ardan."</span></p>
</blockquote>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />