‘If it helps you to get back your pile, I shall be very glad,’ said Lucius rather sadly. ‘I’m sure I’ll be very willing to act as conductor, and rush around and get passengers for you.’
‘Shucks!’ observed Ephraim. ‘Who’s thinkin’ of the pile?’
‘I am,’ said Lucius, ‘and shall never cease to think of it until I have made it up to you in some way. I really do believe that aeronaut notion is a good one.’
‘It is thet,’ affirmed Ephraim with conviction, ‘and I’ll fix it up too; you see ef I don’t.’
‘I suppose you know that you are still holding the valve cord,’ said Lucius. ‘How are we to get up again if you let out all the gas?’
‘By time! I forgot,’ exclaimed Ephraim, releasing the cord. ‘I ’low thar’s more in this yer airy-nortin’ than I thort thar war. We’re about steady now,’ he went on, throwing out some more paper in the stream of lamplight; ‘but of co’se I dunno whar we air; fer I han’t no notion how fast or how slow old Blue Bag kin travel.’
‘Well, there’s not much wind,’ said Lucius, ‘so I don’t suppose we have gone very far. It would be rather a joke if we found ourselves standing still over Staunton, wouldn’t it?’
‘It would thet!’ grinned Ephraim, ‘or, better still, ef we went hoverin’ over the Yanks jest ez they war gittin’ their breakfasts.’
‘By the way, where do you expect to get to?’ inquired Lucius. ‘I suppose you thought it all out before we started?’
‘Waal, I kinder did, ez fur ez might be,’ replied Ephraim, ‘though sutt’nly it war like enuff ter wanderin’ blindfold through a wood; but I knew jest ez well ez everybody else thet old Stonewall war gobblin’ up the Yanks somewhar in the valley, and I ’lowed we wouldn’t git much beyond Winchester ’thout lightin’ on his trail.’