第71章
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  Ifoundmyuncleinmysitting-roominanarm-chair,withhisfeetuponthefenderofthegasstove,whichhehadlit,andnowhewasfeeblydrunkenwithmywhisky,andverywearyinbodyandspirit,andinclinedtobecowardly。

  “Ilef’mydrops。”hesaid。

  Hechangedhisclothesslowlyandunwillingly。Ihadtobullyhim,Ihadalmosttoshovehimtotheairshipandtuckhimupuponitswickerflat。Single-handedImadebutaclumsystart;

  wescrapedalongtheroofoftheshedandbentavanofthepropeller,andforatimeIhungunderneathwithouthisofferingahandtohelpmetoclamberup。Ifithadn’tbeenforasortofanchoringtrolleydeviceofCothope’s,asortofslipanchorrunningonarail,weshouldneverhavegotclearatall。

  TheincidentsofourflightinLordRobertsBdonotarrangethemselvesinanyconsecutiveorder。Tothinkofthatadventureislikedippinghaphazardintoanalbumofviews。Oneisremindedfirstofthisandthenofthat。Wewerebothlyingdownonahorizontalplateofbasketwork;forLordRobertsBhadnoneoftheelegantaccommodationofaballoon。Ilayforward,andmyunclebehindmeinsuchapositionthathecouldseehardlyanythingofourflight。Wewereprotectedfromrollingoversimplybynettingbetweenthesteelstays。Itwasimpossibleforustostandupatall;wehadeithertolieorcrawlonallfoursoverthebasketwork。AmidshipswerelockersmadeofWatson’sAulitematerial,——andbetweentheseitwasthatIhadputmyuncle,wrappedinrugs。Iworesealskinmotoringbootsandgloves,andamotoringfurcoatovermytweeds,andIcontrolledtheenginebyBowdenwiresandleversforward。

  Theearlypartofthatnight’sexperiencewasmadeupofwarmth,ofmoonlitSurreyandSussexlandscape,andofarapidandsuccessfulflight,ascendingandswooping,andthenascendingagainsouthward。Icouldnotwatchthecloudsbecausetheairshipoverhungme;Icouldnotseethestarsnorgaugethemeteorologicalhappening,butitwasfairlycleartomethatawindshiftingbetweennorthandnortheastwasgatheringstrength,andafterIhadsatisfiedmyselfbyaseriesofentirelysuccessfulexpansionsandcontractionsoftherealair-worthinessofLordRobertsB,Istoppedtheenginetosavemypetrol,andletthemonsterdrift,checkingitsprogressbythedimlandscapebelow。Myunclelayquitestillbehindme,sayinglittleandstaringinfrontofhim,andIwaslefttomyownthoughtsandsensations。

  Mythoughts,whatevertheywere,havelongsincefadedoutofmemory,andmysensationshavemergedintoonecontinuousmemoryofancountrysidelying,asitseemed,undersnow,withsquarepatchesofdimness,whitephantomsofroads,rentsandpoolsofvelvetyblackness,andlamp-jewelledhouses。Irememberatrainboringitswaylikeahasteningcaterpillaroffireacrossthelandscape,andhowdistinctlyIhearditsclatter。Everytownandstreetwasbuttonedwithstreetlamps。IcamequiteclosetotheSouthDownsnearLewes,andallthelightswereoutinthehouses,andthepeoplegonetobed。WeleftthelandalittletotheeastofBrighton,andbythattimeBrightonwaswellabed。

  andthebrightlylitsea-frontdeserted。ThenIletoutthegaschambertoitsfullestextentandrose。Iliketobehighabovewater。

  Idonotclearlyknowwhathappenedinthenight。IthinkImusthavedozed,andprobablymyuncleslept。IrememberthatonceortwiceIheardhimtalkinginaneager,muffledvoicetohimself,ortoanimaginarycourt。Buttherecanbenodoubtthewindchangedrightroundintotheeast,andthatwewerecarriedfardowntheChannelwithoutanysuspicionoftheimmenseleewayweweremaking。IrememberthekindofstupidperplexitywithwhichIsawthedawnbreakingoveragreywasteofwater,below,andrealisedthatsomethingwaswrong。IwassostupidthatitwasonlyafterthesunriseIreallynoticedthetrendofthefoamcapsbelow,andperceivedwewereinasevereeasterlygale。Eventhen,insteadofheadingsoutheasterly,Isettheenginegoing,headedsouth,andsocontinuedacoursethatmustneedshaveeitherjusthitUshant,orcarryusovertheBayofBiscay。I

  thoughtIwaseastofCherbourg,whenIwasfartothewestandstoppedmyengineinthatbelief,andthensetitgoingagain。I

  didactuallysightthecoastofBrittanytothesoutheastinthelateafternoon,andthatitwaswokemeuptothegravityofourposition。Idiscovereditbyaccidentinthesoutheast,whenI

  waslookingforitinthesouthwest。Iturnedabouteastandfacedthewindforsometime,andfindingIhadnochanceinitsteeth,wenthigh,whereitseemedlessviolent,andtriedtomakeacoursesoutheast。ItwasonlythenthatIrealisedwhatagaleIwasin。Ihadbeengoingwestward,andperhapseveningustsnorthofwest,atapaceoffiftyorsixtymilesanhour。

  ThenIbeganwhatIsupposewouldbecalledaFightagainsttheeastwind。OnecallsitaFight,butitwasreallyalmostasunlikeafightasplainsewing。Thewindtriedtodrivemewestwardly,andItriedtogetasmuchasIcouldeastwardly,withthewindbeatingandrockingusirregularly,butbynomeansunbearably,forabouttwelvehours。Myhopelayinthewindabating,andourkeepingintheairandeastwardofFinisterreuntilitdid,andthechiefdangerwastheexhaustionofourpetrol。Itwasalongandanxiousandalmostmeditativetime;wewerefairlywarm,andonlyslowlygettinghungry,andexceptthatmyunclegrumbledalittleandproducedsomephilosophicalreflections,andbegantofussabouthavingatemperature,wetalkedverylittle。Iwastiredandsulky,andchieflyworriedabouttheengine。Ihadtoresistatendencytocrawlbackandlookatit。Ididnotcaretoriskcontractingourgaschamberforfearoflosinggas。Nothingwaslesslikeafight。Iknowthatinpopularmagazines,andsoforth,allsuchoccasionsasthisaredepictedintermsofhysteria。Captainssavetheirshipsengineerscompletetheirbridges,generalsconducttheirbattles,inastateofdancingexcitement,foamingreconditetechnicalitiesatthelips。Isupposethatsortofthingworksupthereader,butsofarasitprofessestorepresentreality,Iamconvinceditisallchildishnonsense。

  schoolboysoffifteen,girlsofeighteen,andliterarymenalltheirlives,mayhavethesesquealingfits,butmyownexperienceisthatmostexcitingscenesarenotexciting,andmostoftheurgentmomentsinlifearemetbysteady-headedmen。

  NeitherInormyunclespentthenightinejaculations,norinhumorousallusions,noranyofthesethings。Weremainedlumpish。

  Myunclestuckinhisplaceandgrumbledabouthisstomach,andoccasionallyrambledoffintoexpositionsofhisfinancialpositionanddenunciationsofNeal——hecertainlystruckoutoneortwogoodphrasesforNeal——andIcrawledaboutatrareintervalsinavaguesortofwayandgrunted,andourbasketworkcreakedcontinually,andthewindonourquartermadeasortofruffledflappinginthewallofthegaschamber。Forallourwrapswegotfrightfullycoldasthenightworeon。

  Imusthavedozed,anditwasstilldarkwhenIrealisedwithastartthatwewerenearlyduesouthof,andalongwayfrom,aregularly-flashinglighthouse,standingoutbeforetheglowofsomegreattown,andthenthatthethingthathadawakenedmewasthecessationofourengine,andthatweweredrivingbacktothewest。

  Then,indeed,foratimeIfeltthegrimthrilloflife。I

  crawledforwardtothecordsofthereleasevalves,mademyunclecrawlforwardtoo,andletoutthegasuntilwewerefallingdownthroughtheairlikeaclumsyglidertowardsthevaguegreynessthatwasland。

  SomethingmusthaveintervenedherethatIhaveforgotten。

  IsawthelightsofBordeauxwhenitwasquitedark,anebuloushazeagainstblack;ofthatIamreasonablysure。Butcertainlyourfalltookplaceinthecold,uncertainlightofearlydawn。

  Iam,atleast,equallysureofthat。AndMimizan,nearwherewedropped,isfiftymilesfromBordeaux,whoseharbourlightsI

  musthaveseen。

  Iremembercomingdownatlastwithacuriousindifference,andactuallyrousingmyselftosteer。Buttheactualcomingtoearthwasexcitingenough。Irememberourprolongeddragginglandfall,andthedifficultyIhadtogetclear,andhowagustofwindcaughtLordRobertsBasmyunclestumbledawayfromtheropesandlitter,anddroppedmeheavily,andthrewmeontomyknees。

  Thencametherealisationthatthemonsterwasalmostconsciouslydisentanglingitselfforescape,andthenthelightleapofitsrebound。Theropeslippedoutofreachofmyhand。Irememberrunningknee-deepinasaltpoolinhopelesspursuitoftheairship。

  Asitdraggedandroseseaward,andhowonlyafterithadescapedmyuttermostefforttorecaptureit,didIrealisethatthiswasquitethebestthingthatcouldhavehappened。Itdroveswiftlyoverthesandydunes,liftingandfalling,andwashiddenbyaclumpofwindbittentrees。Thenitreappearedmuchfurtheroff,andstillreceding。Itsoaredforatime,andsankslowly,andafterthatIsawitnomore。Isupposeitfellintotheseaandgotwettedwithsaltwaterandheavy,andsobecamedeflatedandsank。

  Itwasneverfound,andtherewasneverareportofanyoneseeingitafteritescapedfromme。

  ButifIfindithardtotellthestoryofourlongflightthroughtheairoverseas,atleastthatdawninFrancestandscoldandclearandfull。IseeagainalmostasifIsawoncemorewithmybodilyeyestheridgesofsandrisingbehindridgesofsand,greyandcoldandblack-browed,withaninsufficientgrass。Ifeelagaintheclear,coldchillofdawn,andhearthedistantbarkingofadog。Ifindmyselfaskingagain,“Whatshallwedonow?”andtryingtoschemewithbraintiredbeyondmeasure。

  Atfirstmyuncleoccupiedmyattention。Hewasshiveringagooddeal,anditwasallIcoulddotoresistmydesiretogethimintoacomfortablebedatonce。ButIwantedtoappearplausiblyinthispartoftheworld。Ifeltitwouldnotdototurnupanywhereatdawnandrest,itwouldbealtogethertooconspicuous;wemustrestuntilthedaywaswelladvanced,andthenappearasroad-stainedpedestriansseekingameal。Igavehimmostofwhatwasleftofthebiscuits,emptiedourflasks,andadvisedhimtosleep,butatfirstitwastoocold,albeitI

  wrappedthebigfurrugaroundhim。

  Iwasstrucknowbytheflushedwearinessofhisface,andthelookofagethegreystubbleonhisunshavedchingavehim。Hesatcrumpledup,shiveringandcoughing,munchingreluctantly,butdrinkingeagerly,andwhimperingalittle,adreadfullypitifulfiguretome。Butwehadtogothroughwithit;therewasnowayoutforus。

  Presentlythesunroseoverthepines,andthesandgrewrapidlywarm。Myunclehaddoneeating,andsatwithhiswristsrestingonhisknees,themosthopelesslookingoflostsouls。

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