Pride and His Prisoners

by A. L. O. E.

Topple down headlong!”

Shakspeare.

“Oh, how delightful!” was the first exclamation of Mabel, as the Eaglet shot upwards, swiftly, but with a motion so smooth that its speed was only made known by the earth and the spectators appearing to sink down—down—ever growing less and less, while the cheers sounded fainter and fainter, as rising up from a distance. “How delightful!” she repeated, waving a little flag as her farewell to those below.

But when the smiling Mabel turned to look at her companions, she was somewhat startled to mark that the countenance of her uncle was of the same ashen hue as that of the earl.

“How is it that Mr. Verdon is not with us?” exclaimed Mabel in some surprise.

Augustine silenced her by a warning look. His grasp on the arm of Dashleigh had grown heavier and tighter; but for that grasp it is possible that the nobleman, in the first excitement of fear, would have flung himself out of the car. Augustine’s first thought was for his companion, for he felt that the unhappy Dashleigh was trembling convulsively under his hand.

“Well, my friends,” said he, in a tone so cheerful that it completely deceived his niece; “Verdon will think it a shame if we do not go back for him directly; I propose, therefore, that we descend.”

“Yes, descend!” cried Dashleigh wildly; and a strange faint echo from the far earth repeated the word, “Descend!”

Augustine was almost afraid to loosen his hold on the arm of the earl; it was, however, necessary that he should try some means of bringing the Eaglet to the ground. He was, of course, aware that this means must be to let out the gas which inflated the ball, but ignorant as he was of the practical working of a balloon, however easily he might grasp its theory, Augustine was left to guess the way in which this effect might be produced. Mabel, who had perfect confidence in the power of her gifted uncle to master any difficulty, and who saw no change in his countenance except the paleness which overspread his handsome features, had no idea of the anxious fear which now perplexed his mind.

Augustine laid hold of a rope which seemed to him to be the one most probably attached to the valve at the top of the ball, and in this his reason had not misled him. The valve was constructed to open inwardly, so that the pressure of the gas within might keep it constantly closed, except when mechanical means were applied to counteract that pressure. But Mr. Verdon’s misgiving had not been without foundation; there was some hitch with the valve which prevented its working properly under an inexperienced hand. As Augustine pulled the rope, the balloon entered into a cloud, and the travellers suddenly found themselves enveloped in a dense, damp, chilly mist.