"What do you say? What is your plan?"
"A very simple plan, indeed. To take some food, and go straight ahead until I reach some place, which I cannot fail to do. Meantime, if Heaven send you a favorable wind, you need not wait for me—you can go. I, on my part, if I come to a village, will explain the circumstances with the words of Arabic you will write down for me, and I will bring you assistance if I lose my skin. What do you say to my plan?"
"It is madness, but worthy of your brave heart. It is out of the question that you can leave us."
"Well, we must try something, sir! it cannot hurt you, and, I repeat, you need not wait for me—perhaps I shall succeed."
"No, Joe, no; we must not separate—that would be an additional trouble to us. It was decreed that this should happen, and very likely it is decreed that something else shall happen later. So let us wait with resignation."
"So be it, sir; but I warn you of one thing. I will give you another day, I will not wait longer. This is Sunday, or rather Monday, as it is now one o'clock in the morning; if Tuesday does not see us off, I shall try my plan—that is decided."
The doctor made no reply, and they soon arrived at the balloon, where they sat down beside Kennedy. He was plunged in a silence so deep, that it could not have been sleep that bound him.
CHAPTER XXVII
DELUSIONS
The doctor's first care on the morrow was to consult the barometer. It did not appear that the mercury had fallen in any appreciable degree. "Nothing," he said, "nothing to hope for."
He came out of the car and looked at the sky; there was the same heat, the same clearness, the same stillness.
"Must we then really relinquish all hope?" he cried in vain.
Joe did not say a word—he was still pondering upon his project. Kennedy got up, but was very ill, and a prey
