some hasty adjustments for the shifting of the centres of gravity and pressure.
"I want to have these things explained," said Graham. "What do you do when you move that engine forward?"
The aeronaut hesitated. Then he answered, "They are complex, Sire."
"I don't mind," shouted Graham. "I don't mind."
There was a moment's pause. "Aeronautics is the secret—the privilege———"
"I know. But I'm the Master, and I mean to know." He laughed, full of this novel realisation of power that was his gift from the upper air.
The monoplane curved about, and the keen fresh wind cut across Graham's face and his garment lugged at his body as the stem pointed round to the west. The two men looked into each other's eyes.
"Sire, there are rules———"
"Not where I am concerned," said Graham. "You seem to forget."
The aeronaut scrutinised his face. "No," he said. "I do not forget, Sire. But in all the earth—no man who is not a sworn aeronaut—has ever a chance. They come as passengers———"
"I have heard something of the sort. But I'm not going to argue these points. Do you know why I have slept two hundred years? To fly!"
"Sire," said the aeronaut, the rules—if I break the rules———"
Graham waved the penalties aside.
"Then if you will watch me———"
"No," said Graham, swaying and gripping tight as
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