But there were matters requiring immediate attention and of greater importance than sleep, the first was the reduction of the “Sylph” in point of bulk; now it is not exactly an easy matter to get all the gas out of a balloon single-handed; when the valve drops to the ground the gas will not escape unless it is pressed out by men holding down the network, and, as I had no such assistance, I got thus far and no farther; the wind, however, had abated, so that my silken companion presented very much the appearance of a whale.
I drew some part of the loose folds over the car, and then remembered the kind attention of Mr. Gardner, the lessee of the Gardens, who always made up for me something to comfort the inner man before I ascended. This time there was a beef sandwich with a liberal supply of mustard and pepper, but it was not too hot, nor was the pocket pistol, containing brown brandy and water, at all dangerous, for it was rather needed, the cold weather aloft having chilled one somewhat; whilst good Mr. Gardner’s basket, and its truly acceptable contents, produced a glow of gratitude which prompted me, the moment I had unscrewed the flask, to drink to his long life and happiness. I did so twice, and after having taxed the reserve sandwich I felt myself a fresher and more thoughtful man.
The next question was, whether it would be well to turn in where I was for the night, or strike out by the nearest road for assistance.
There would be no harm, I thought, in taking a short reconnoitre as far as the boundaries of the field I was in possession of; it being dark, I could only by close inspection ascertain how the ground lay.
At the further extremity I came upon a gate and a bye lane; now if I pursued this, wouldn’t it lead to a farm house? And if I placed a stone, or, as I did, a chalk and flint opposite the gate in the centre of the lane, shouldn’t I be able to see it on my return?
The argument was conclusive, I struck out in a sanguine spirit, and after a quarter of an hour’s cautious walking came to a farm with a light in one window; bravo! there was a yard wall surrounding the premises, but the stile was visible, and I mounted step after step, determined to knock or ring them up.
But gracious goodness! what dark object was that springing at my throat with a fierce growl?
A bounding, unchained, Newfoundland dog had never entered my dreams.
I confess to being both surprised and alarmed, and to having beat, or attempted to do so, one of the most expeditious retreats on record. If recollection serves me correctly I fairly bolted, but whether I stopped before the flint stone tripped me up or not I cannot say.
Halting at the outside of the gate, and seizing the big flint in my right hand, I breathed more freely, and was not displeased when I ascertained that I had no followers.