Tales from Many Sources Part 25

That's the worst of filling a balloon. You must do it near a gasworks, and there's sure to be a stack of chimneys at hand."

It seemed but a moment since Josiah had heard the captain call out "Let go all," and there they were in s.p.a.ce a thousand feet above the level of the land, sailing calmly along in bright warm sunlight, and with no more motion perceptible than if they were still sitting in the room in King Street--that cherished apartment which Josiah felt his eye would never light on more.

"This won't do," said the captain sternly; "we've got in the wrong current, and instead of going out to sea we are going inland. In half an hour we'll be at Canterbury."

"I have heard Canterbury's a very nice old town," said Josiah. "It wouldn't be a bad place to stop at; and if the wind's contrary to-day, it might be right to-morrow."

The captain said nothing, and Josiah, looking up to see what effect his suggestion might have, noticed for the first time that on a face usually smiling there were possibilities of a fixed hard look which it evidently didn't beseem him to trifle with.

The balloon slowly rose till the aneroid marked a height of 1,500 feet and still the current drove it steadily north-west. Looking southward, Josiah beheld a sight which, if it were the last he was ever to look upon, was at least a glorious glimpse of earth, and sky, and sea. There lay the Channel gleaming in the sun, a broad belt of silver. Beyond it, like a cloud, was France. Dover had vanished even to the crest of the castle on the hill. But Josiah knew where it was by the mist that lay over it and shone white in the rays of the sun. Save for this patch of mist, which seemed to drift with the voyagers far below the car, there was nothing to obscure the range of vision. Josiah could not at any time make out forms of people. The white highways that ran like threads among the fields, and the tiny openings in the towns and villages which he guessed were streets, seemed to belong to a dead world, for nowhere was there trace of living person. The strange stillness that brooded over the earth was made more uncanny by cries that occasionally seemed to float in the air around them, behind, before, to the right or to the left, but never exactly beneath the car. They could hear people calling, and the captain said that they were running after the balloon and cheering. But Josiah could distinguish no moving thing. Yes; once he saw some pheasants running across a field below and pointed them out to the captain. The captain laughed, a strange resonant laugh it seemed in this upper stillness, and said they were "a lot of chestnut horses capering about in the field." A flock of sheep in another field huddled together, looked like a heap of limestone chippings. As for the fields, stretched out in illimitable extent, far as the eye could reach, they seemed to form a gigantic carpet, with patterns chiefly diamond-shaped, and in colour shaded from bright emerald to russet brown.

"This won't do," the captain said again, and seizing a bag of ballast he emptied it. The balloon swiftly rose, and the aneroid marked 2,500 feet. The villages seemed mere spots, the pattern of the carpet grew blurred. Nothing was distinguishable--nor horse, nor sheep, nor any living thing.

"Hurrah!" cried the captain, "we're off now."

Nearer and nearer came the belt of silver which seemed to girdle continent and island. They were close to Dover, and could make out the town. Josiah, knowing well the irregular plan on which the streets are laid out, was struck by the manner in which, as looked down upon from this height, they formed themselves into beautifully defined curves, straight lines, and other highly respectable geometrical shapes. They saw the castle and the pier with what seemed to be ants crawling on it.

A little patch of colour, that to Josiah looked like a ball of scarlet worsted, was, the captain said, a sentry on duty.

"There's Shakespeare's Cliff," said the captain. "The Earl of Gloucester should be with us now:--

How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!

The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles; half-way down Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!

Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen that walk upon the beach Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her c.o.c.k; her c.o.c.k, a buoy Almost too small for sight."

"I'll look no more," said Josiah, who also knew his Shakespeare.

"Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong."

It was pa.s.sing strange and at first dreadful, this intense silence and this strangeness of the familiar earth. But after a while everything like terror pa.s.sed away from Josiah's mind. He began to feel the fascination of the thing. His spirits rose as he breathed the delicious air, and when the captain said, "We are over the water now," and Josiah looking down discerned the sea gleaming below, he could have clapped his hands for joy.

"This is splendid," said the captain. "We'll be across in half an hour.

We'll catch the train for Paris, and you shall dance at the Closerie to-night."

Josiah didn't dance, and didn't know what the Closerie might be. But he was not without susceptibility to the allurement of a quiet dinner in Paris, and began to feel the exhilaration of having accomplished a perilous feat, to which he would certainly drag in some reference in his great work. It would be difficult, as he was as far as possible remote from Underground England. But it might be worked in some ant.i.thetical sentence.

After they had sailed for the s.p.a.ce of ten minutes the captain, who had been throwing out bits of paper which they left far behind, suddenly said a bad word.

"We are becalmed," he continued, and truly the bits of paper flung out floated idly round the balloon. "We must get out of this."

He cast out the ballast, bag after bag, and higher still they soared.

Nevertheless, whenever they flung out the bits of paper, they floated here and there, some dropping back into the car.

"There goes our last bag of ballast," said the captain, "and may luck go with it. We are lost men unless it takes us into another current, which let us hope won't be coming from the East and carry us out into the Atlantic."

Up again they mounted, how many feet Josiah didn't know, but he was sensible of a sudden iciness in the atmosphere, a tingling of the blood at his finger ends, and a strong disposition to bleed at the nose. The captain threw out some more bits of paper. Still they circled round and round, dropping into the car or falling to the distant earth now utterly out of sight. They had pa.s.sed through the cloud, and had above them a chilly sun and an intensely blue sky. Below them were the clouds, on one of which was clearly caught the shadow of the balloon. Josiah, when he moved his head, could see an answering motion on the cloud, and recognised the reflection of the captain's figure, sitting stern and erect, with his teeth set and a look of angry determination on his brow.

This frightened Josiah a great deal more than the captain's words. He felt that they were lost in s.p.a.ce, and that the end must speedily come.

This terrible look on the captain's face made him sick at heart.

"Mr. Smith," said the captain, speaking scarcely above a whisper, but his voice sounded as if he were shouting from the housetops, "you told me you were _not_ a married man."

"Yes," said Josiah, "I have never been married."

"That is so, or I should not have asked you to come with me. And you have not many relations?"

"No," said Josiah, "there are not many that would miss me."

"Very well," said the captain; "I have; but your life is as valuable as mine, and I would hold you at no disadvantage. The fact is, we are becalmed, and there is no prospect of any wind reaching us here till night, when we shan't know which way we are drifting, and may as well give up all hope. There is wind overhead, I know, and it is going straight for France. If we could get up another thousand feet or so, we should catch the current and be over land in ten minutes. But all the ballast has gone, and there is only one thing to be done."

"What's that?" asked Josiah faintly.

"One of us must go overboard," said the captain.

Josiah felt his heart sink within him.

"I am not sure that it would be much use my going over," the captain continued, discussing the matter as quietly as if he were arranging what they should have for dinner. "I'm such a thundering weight, you'd shoot up till you b.u.mped your head against Jupiter; and besides, you would not know what to do with the balloon if I was gone. Still, I think we should have equal chances. Now, I'll give you the first chance. You get hold of me and try to push me over. If I go, you will find the balloon shoot up; but don't be frightened: you'll be all right in a bit, and can let out a few feet of gas. If you can't get me over--well, I must try to get _you_ over. Hold on a bit till I light a cigar."

In the calm still air the captain struck a light, bending low in the car to avoid contact of flame and gas, bit the end of a cigar, and lit it.

Josiah, shaking with terror, could see in the shadow of the balloon on the cloud the smoke curling up from the cigar and lazily spreading itself out.

"Now, old chappie," said the captain, "I'm ready. Heave hard, and over I go."

What was the use of disputing with a man like this? Josiah never had been inclined to fight with men of strong will. He was certain he could not move the captain, but he was able to try, and try he did. He got one foot over the car, the captain encouraging him and cheerfully smoking.

"Very well done, old man. A few more tugs, and over we go. I'll just have time to finish my cigar before I get to the bottom."

Josiah tugged and tugged till he felt the warm blood rus.h.i.+ng through his veins and his breath came short But though he might move one of the captain's colossal legs, which seemed to his disordered fancy to be the size of the Monument, he could do no more. The captain sat pa.s.sive, encouraging him by every kindly phrase he could think of. But it was of no use, and after ten minutes' violent struggling Josiah threw himself back in the car.

"Very sorry, old man," said the captain, with a tone of unmistakable sincerity. "Thought once you'd have done it; but I've got a little out of training lately and run up half a stun. Now I must see what I can do with you."

First of all he tore off some slips of paper and threw them out. Josiah looked at them with hungry eyes. Round and round they spun, falling back into the car or dropping to the world beyond the clouds. There was no hope of movement for the balloon.

"Well, Mr. Smith, it's your turn now. I must see what I can do. It's not nice for either of us, but it would be no nicer to stay here and be starved to death or blown out to sea. You won't feel anything after the first rush. Good-bye. I am sorry there will be no opportunity of my communicating with you as to the result of this interesting experiment.

I don't suppose," the captain added, his love of scientific research increasing his unfeigned regret for the inconvenience Josiah was about to suffer, "that ever before ten stun was dropped out of a car in a lump. I reckon I'll get as high as most people have been. Now, if you've any message, just hand it over. If I can do anything for you in King Street or anywhere else, you may depend upon me."

"No," said Josiah, gulping down a rising sob; "if you will only say I went off bravely and didn't flinch, that will be all. Perhaps you might write a few lines by way of preface to 'Underground England,' pointing out that I died in the interests of science."

"Certainly, my dear fellow, it shall be done," said the captain, with quite a glow of honest energy. "If you'd like a little monument or anything of that sort, I'll see it's run up. Now, over you go. Time's getting on, and I don't want to miss the Paris train. Give us a shake of your paw, then shut your eyes, for I fancy I shan't have much difficulty with you. Heave your watch over or take it with you!"

"If you wouldn't mind accepting it," said Josiah, pulling out his fine old turnip-shaped time-piece, "as a memento of our friends.h.i.+p--which, though brief, has I trust been sincere--it would give me great pleasure."

"Certainly," said the captain, weighing it in his hand critically, and thinking to himself that it might serve as ballast in a last emergency.

"I'll hang it over my bed, and will think of you whenever it ticks.

Nothing more to say?"

"No," said Josiah; "only, please to drop me feet first."

The captain took him in his arms as if he were a child, held him for a moment over the side of the car, and with a cheery farewell dropped him.