"Beggars who fire on the wounded are not likely to miss such a target as we make, although it must be perfectly clear to them that we're coming down," said the youngster between his teeth.
"And suppose they hit us?" questioned Dennis.
"Why, we'll burst, that's all, and descend in flames, with death at the end of the drop and no glory attached to it."
"I wish you'd been in Jerusalem before you asked me to come on this fool's errand!" exclaimed Dennis.
"I shouldn't mind being in Jerusalem just now," said his companion; and somehow they both laughed.
The valve at the nose of the sausage was releasing hydrogen, and the kite balloon dropped slowly as the envelope became deflated. But the wind increased, and already Dennis saw through his glasses the château and the wood pass under them.
"I'd half a hope," he said gloomily, "that we might have come to ground near that house. My battalion's there; we took the blooming place last night."
Luckily the wind buffeted them in an irregular course, and the shrapnel flew wide. Seven shells in all were fired at them, and then, ammunition being precious to the enemy, word was evidently given to cease.
It was no use wasting any more on an object whose capture was certain in a few minutes; and lower and lower they dropped, until the observer slackened his pull on the valve cord.
"We may as well save our necks," he interjected over his shoulder. "I wonder if we shall clear that wood?"