I might add that these facts were but vaguely known to me before I had been introduced, by a mutual friend, to this nouveau siècle young sportsman, and had accepted his invitation to accompany him in his next aerial voyage.
When we reached the vacant lot at the huge gas works of St. Denis, where our balloon was being inflated, I could not help feeling a bit alarmed at the sight of that little bubble—only a few hundred cubic metres—and the very small basket which were soon to take us up in the air.
All the éclat, the ceremonial, and the emotional “good-bys” that usually accompany the “let her go!” of a balloon, were totally lacking when the “Rolla” left the earth. The start was effected in a quiet and business like manner, and the act seemed so natural to the people who were helping us off, that their demeanor on this occasion had a beneficial and soothing effect on my excited nerves.
A few minutes after midnight, when the last little sacks of sand ballast had been hung out over the edge of our wicker-basket, when a final glance had been given to the ropes, the net, the valve, etc.,—with a careless au revoir from the foreman of the gas-works, and a parting joke from the cocher who had driven us there,—the dark forms, whose hands were holding us down, silently stepped back, and with a gentle and graceful swing the “Rolla” started off on its sixth ascension.
Had we taken with us another small sack of ballast, our balloon could not have left the earth. In other words, its ascensional force was almost balanced by the weight it was expected to carry. After rising a few hundred feet, and finding a cooler current, which slightly condensed the gas, the “Rolla” ceased to ascend. We were met by a gentle breeze from the north west, and began to cross Paris, a couple of hundred yards above the city.
It would take the pen of a Carlyle to describe our mysterious flight over Paris at midnight. The impression was so startling that for an hour we never spoke above a whisper.
Owing to the increasing coolness of the atmosphere, our balloon had a slight, though constant, tendency to descend. But we easily kept our altitude by occasionally throwing overboard a spoonful or two of ballast.
After ascertaining that we would not come in contact with the towers of Notre Dame or the sharp edges of the Eiffel Tower, we decided to keep the same distance, and let the breeze do the rest.