passed the meridian. Evening was approaching, and I was terrified at the idea of arriving at the Great Lake at night, and perhaps being unceremoniously dismissed by the Demon. The remembrance of previous adventures, scrambling over logs, falling among rocks, tumbling into stony creeks, or being torn by the prickly pear-tree, with its fruit akin to stones, came upon me with vivid force. And then what could be done with Doctor Julius? The prospect before me was almost as maddening as the scenes which I had left—I hoped and prayed—for ever far behind me.
On and on we swept, like a proud bird, through the air; as proud indeed, but hardly as happy and secure. I could not help reflecting, with a most painful feeling, that we were entirely at the mercy of the Demon and his diabolical driver; and what extraordinary or bloodthirsty notions might they not take into their heads? The most barbarous murder was to them no more than a puff of smoke. The balloon itself, though strongly constructed, was nothing but a child's toy in the strength of the elements of Nature. If it encountered a thunderstorm, a flash of lightning could annihilate it in a moment. If its machinery or tackling should give way, what would become of the poor Doctor and myself; or what would be our condition should we be suddenly hurled into the opposing track of another tempest?
On and on we swept, like a ray of light from Arcturus or the Dog-Star; around us the vapours of everlasting space gurgling and hissing, below us——
Come, come, that will do, give us something more substantial, Mr. Ubertus, if you please.
We were gradually sinking down closer to the earth, for the objects below became more and more distinct. The rays of the afternoon sun were lighting up sea and shore and mountain and forest with beautiful rainbow tints before leaving them shrouded in the blackness of night. I became agonized with unutterable anxiety. Could I only
