Lannes' eyes behind the heavy glasses were flashing, and the blood was flying through his veins. The daring strain, the utter defiance of death which appears so often in French blood was up and leaping. He was like a medieval knight, riding to a tournament, confident of victory, only Philip Lannes was not any conqueror of narrow lists, the vast space in which the whole universe swings was his field of triumph. His hand sought the steering rudder, and the machine, under the impulse of the strong push it had received, rose into the air.
John's sensation as he left the earth for the very first time in his life was akin to seasickness. The machine seemed to him to be dipping and gliding, and the throbbing of the motor was like the hum of a ship's machinery in his ear. For a few moments he would have given anything he had to be back on that glorious solid earth. But again he put down the feeling of fear.
He turned his head for a last look at Castelneau and Méry, and, to his amazement, he could barely make them out standing by the other machine, which looked like some great, vague bird poised on the grass. Directly below him he saw the tops of trees, and at that moment they looked to his excited fancy like rows of glittering spear points, poised to receive him.
"Look up! Look up!" said the sharp voice of Lannes in his ear. "It's always the fault of beginners to look down and see what they've left."
His tone was more than sharp, it was peremptory, commanding. John glanced at him and saw his steady hand on the rudder, and his figure loose and swinging easily like that of a sailor poised on a rolling deck. He knew that Lannes' manner was for his own good, and now he looked straight up at those heavens, into which they were ascending.
The motor throbbed, and John knew that the machine was ascending, rising, but not at a sharp angle. The dizzy feeling began to depart, and he longed to look down again, but did not do so. Instead he kept his eyes upward, his gaze fixed on the dusky blue heavens, which now looked so wide and chill. He knew that the little distance they had come from the earth was nothing to the infinity of the void, but by some mental change the stars seemed to have come much nearer, and to have grown hugely in size. There they danced in space, vast and cold.
The machine dipped a little and rose again. John dared another glance at Lannes, who was swaying easily in his seat, feeling all the exaltation of a confident rider who has a swift horse beneath him.
"I'm better now," said John above the purring of the motor.
Lannes laughed deep down in his throat, and with unction.
"Getting your air-legs, so to speak," he said. "You're learning fast. But don't look down at the ground, at least not yet. By and by you'll feel the thrill, which to me is like nothing else on earth—or rather above it. You've noticed, haven't you, that it's growing colder?"