We had narrowly missed it, and caught sight of it, just as it reflected the first rays of the rising sun, in a rift of the fog, and just as I was congratulating myself upon being above every earthly object. But it was a clear miss and no harm done.
Presently the fog cleared and we looked down upon the great city of London speeding away below.
"And where are we going, old man?" I inquired at last, hardly able to contain myself with the strange delight of this new sensation of flying.
"To the North Pole!" said Torrence, holding fast to his levers, screws, and steering apparatus.
IX.
With the rising of the sun the fog cleared, and the great city of London was spread out away beneath us. It was a sight I can never forget, and a sensation unequalled by any previous experience. Patches of smoke blocked out large areas of the metropolis, but there was promise of a day of rare, Spring-like beauty. As we floated aloft, above the smoke and grime, through an atmosphere of translucent purity, we watched with interest the shifting masses beneath, and drank in with delight the marvelous scene. On and on we flew, at one moment unscreened from the streets and houses of the city, at, the next catching only occasional glimpses of a tower or steeple piercing an earthward cloud, like the finger of a submarine monster pointing heavenward. But far to the north the smoke had vanished, and the green fields of Spring would soon be under us. It was a dream of bliss, transcending the power of words to picture, or the imagination of man to conceive.
"It makes me shudder," said Torrence, "to think of what a narrow escape we had just now. A few feet more to the left and we would have banged into St. Paul's cross!"
I admitted that it would have been an ugly collision.
"The truth is," he continued, "I miscalculated our height; and in the fog and darkness, we may have had some other close shaves, for all I know."
"Hardly," I answered; "the houses in London are not high, as a rule."