“All ready,” he shouted, as he started the motor. “Good-bye,” said Edith to us all, as the aeroplane started.
It rose beautifully and after ascending about 75 feet, Mike circled around us. We could see Edith waving her handkerchief. I was surprised at her composure. After making one circle, Mike started off, like a huge bird, for Portrush. We watched the airship until it became a speck in the distance. Mr. and Mrs. O’Neill walked back with me to the hotel and I had to earnestly assure Edith’s mother that her daughter was in safe hands.
Just before noon I heard a shout, “They’re coming back.”
I rushed out of the hotel and saw the aeroplane about a half a mile off, bearing down on us with all speed. When they came nearer I saw them rise, and I knew Mike was going to circle. He went up to a height of fully 400 feet, and circled around over the hotel three times. In making the third circle, he went out far over the sea.
The descent was made without difficulty, and the aeroplane touched the ground without a perceptible jar.
Edith jumped out before Mike could descend to help her, and before I reached the aeroplane. She ran at once to her mother and kissed her.
“Edith, child,” said her mother, with tears in her eyes, “you must not go flying again.”
“Oh, Mamma,” said the happy girl, “it was grand. I never, never enjoyed anything like it.”
“You rascal,” said Mr. O’Neill, smiling, to Mike, “I thought you promised to keep off the sea.”
“I made him do it,” said Edith, hastily. “He didn’t want to, but I wanted to fly above the water.”