For several minutes this torture endured, each second of which appeared to be an hour to those imperilled beings, who surely must have perished, as they lay pinned fast to the floor of the aerostat by that pitiless weight, only for the precious air-tubes in connection with that cylinder of compressed air.
After a seeming age of torment the awful pressure was relaxed, leaving the trio gasping and shivering, as they lay side by side, barely conscious that life lingered, for the moment unable to lift hand or head to aid either self or another.
In spite of his far greater age, Professor Featherwit was first to rally, and his voice was about the first thing distinguished by the brothers, as their powers began to rally.
“Shall we take our chances, dear boys?” the professor was saying, in earnest tones. “I believe there is a method of escaping from this hell-chamber, although of what may lie beyond—”
“It can't well be worse than this!” huskily gasped Bruno.
“Anything—everything—just to get out o' here!” supplemented Waldo, for once all spirits subdued.
“It may be death for us all, even if we do get outside,” gravely warned the professor. “Bear that in mind, dear boys. It may be that not one of us will escape with life, after—”
“How much better to remain here?” interrupted Bruno. “I felt death would be a mercy—then! And I'd risk anything, everything, rather than go through such another ordeal! I say,—escape!”
“Me too, all over!” vigorously decided Waldo, lifting himself to both knees as he added: “Tell us what to do, and here I am, on deck, uncle.”
Even now Professor Phaeton hesitated, his eyes growing dimmer than usual as they rested upon one face after the other, for right well he knew how deadly would be the peril thus invited.