“It has, and to what extent it has driven us is just what I am anxious to ascertain.”
“Strong light breaking, sir,” cried Tom Trigger who had taken a bag of sand in one hand while he motioned to Captain Link to do likewise.
But Harry Goodall had caught the first indistinct glance of land and water—afterwards they heard the sound of a railway whistle—but on the left the open sea was not far off, though the aeronaut did not point this out, but drew Miss Chain’s attention to the green marsh-land on their right.
“Yes, wonderfully green isn’t it,” replied the lady; “but what murmuring sound is that we hear? It reminds me of the surf breaking on the seashore!”
“It does resemble that, certainly,” said Captain Link, “and we do hear the distant ripples, but we are going rather inland.”
“Not so very much are we, Mr Goodall?” asked Miss Chain, while the silence of the mariner and Trigger was strictly and wisely preserved. “Those Martello Towers look pretty,” she added.
“They will look prettier presently,” said the captain, “as we leave them behind us. We must have been bowling along, Harry, to be so far south?”
“Yes, it was that swift upper current that did it; but we are now almost in the same calm air which prevailed when we left the Crystal Palace. At the same time, we must land as soon as possible,” said the aeronaut, with a knowing look which the captain and Trigger knew how to interpret,—for there was no disguising from them what a close shave they had experienced, and that they were still too near the coast line to be safe.
They were, however, under the influence of a light sea breeze which bore them inland, and as a suitable spot for alighting was descried in the distance, Tom Trigger asked if he should be ready with the grapnel.
“I think not, Trigger,” said his master. “We are making for a nice spot behind those trees yonder; but you may lower the trail rope, as we progress so slowly now that the people assembled in the quarter I am pointing to, will be able to hold us fast without letting go the grapnel.”