“And still you fear not!” demanded the wizard.
“And shall not!” replied Glenn, “so long as your features are composed.” The old man pressed his hand and smiled.
“Yonder is St. Louis!” cried Glenn, running his eye along the valley of the Missouri, down to its confluence with the Mississippi; and a short distance beyond, descried the town in question, though it did not seem to be larger than one ordinary mansion, with its garden and customary appendages.
“We are far above the reach of vision from the earth,” said the wizard, bounding forward to endeavour to regulate a part of the machinery that had for some time attracted his attention, and which Glenn believed to be not altogether right, from the abrupt movement of his companion.
“How far above the earth are we?’ asked Glenn.
“About twenty-five miles—but should this screw give way, it may be less very speedily!” exclaimed the old man, almost incoherently, and applying all his strength to the loosened screw to keep it in its place.
“Let me assist!” exclaimed Glenn, springing forward.
“It’s gone!” cried the old man; “you have knocked it out! we are falling—crushed!”
“That’s just what I expected,” said Joe, addressing the fawn, which had been playing with the dogs, and at length ran against Glenn’s chair so violently as to push it over.