"There must be a great deal of wind, to account for these rapid changes of form," Percy said, after a long silence. "Suppose you see nothing of the earth? At what time will you begin to descend?"
"In five hours from the time of starting, at twenty-five miles an hour--supposing that the wind holds north--we should fall south of the Loire, somewhere between Orleans and Bourges. At eleven o'clock, then, I will let out gas; and go down below the clouds, to see whereabouts we are. If we cannot recognize the country, or see any river which may guide us, we shall at least see our direction and rate of movement; and can either throw out more newspapers, and keep on for awhile, or descend at once."
It was just ten o'clock, when Ralph gave a sudden cry.
"The sea!" he said; "the sea!"
"Impossible," Monsieur Teclier said, hanging over the side; "I can see nothing."
"Nor can I, now," Ralph said; "but I caught a glimpse, just now, and I will almost swear to its being the sea--though how we could get there, I don't know."
"If it is," the aeronaut said, "the wind must be blowing half a gale, up here; and must have changed entirely, either to the west or south. It is too serious to hesitate; we must find out if your eyes have not deceived you."
So saying, he pulled the valve.
"Keep a sharp lookout, and look at the compass."
"There, there!" the boys cried, as the clouds opened again, for an instant. "It is the sea, and we are going west."