I was confounded. His assurance disconcerted me; and I had nothing to say in reply. I looked at him, but he paid no regard to my astonishment. He continued:
“My weight will disturb your equilibrium, Monsieur: will you permit me—”
And without waiting for my assent, he lightened the balloon by two bags of sand which he emptied into the air.
“Monsieur,” said I, taking the only possible course, “you are here,—well! you choose to remain,—well! but to me alone belongs the management of the aerostat.”
“Monsieur,” replied he, “your urbanity is entirely French; it is of the same country with myself! I press in imagination the hand which you refuse me. Take your measures,—act as it may seem good to you; I will wait till you have ended—”
“To—”
“To converse with you.”
The barometer had fallen to twenty-six inches; we had attained a height of about six hundred metres, and were over the city; which satisfied me of our complete quiescence, for I could not judge by our motionless flags. Nothing betrays the horizontal voyage of a balloon; it is the mass of air surrounding it which moves. A kind of wavering heat bathed the objects extended at our feet, and gave their outlines an indistinctness to be regretted. The needle of the compass indicated a slight tendency to float towards the south.
I looked again at my companion. He was a man of thirty, simply clad; the bold outlines of his features betokened indomitable energy; he appeared very muscular. Absorbed in the emotion of this silent suspension, he remained immovable, seeking to distinguish the objects which passed beneath his view.
“Vexatious mist!” said he, at the expiration of a few moments.