“Hurrah! She’s away!” from the lieutenant.
“She moves; she moves!” from the colonel.
And, “By Jove, she is actually moving!” from the baronet.
Slowly but surely the Flying Fish backed out of the building-shed, until nearly half her immense length projected beyond the walls. Then the voice of the baronet was heard exclaiming:
“Ho! stop her! The electric lamp will not clear the roof, I am afraid. Can you give us a little light on the subject, professor?”
By way of reply the professor pressed a knob, and the lamp itself flashed its dazzling light upon the scene, when it became apparent that the ship had gradually risen from the ground, bringing the top of her lamp just above the level of the last tie-rod of the roof.
“Can you drop her a little? Six inches will do it,” said the baronet.
The professor opened the air-valve and the ship at once began to settle down.
“So! That will do; all clear. You may go astern again now as fast as you please,” said the baronet.
Once more the great propeller began to revolve, and presently the baronet, from his position under the foremost end of the pilot-house, remarked: