"Done what?" said Josiah, anxiously looking up.
"Why, the chimney-stack. Just cleared it by half a foot. I didn't like
to say much about it, but it was a pretty near touch-and-go affair.
That's the worst of filling a balloon. You must do it near a gasworks,
and there's sure to be a stack of chimneys at hand."
It seemed but a moment since Josiah had heard the captain call out "Let
go all," and there they were in space a thousand feet above the level of
the land, sailing calmly along in bright warm sunlight, and with no more
motion perceptible than if they were still sitting in the room in King
Street--that cherished apartment which Josiah felt his eye would never
light on more.
"This won't do," said the captain sternly; "we've got in the wrong
current, and instead of going out to sea we are going inland. In half an
hour we'll be at Canterbury."
"I have heard Canterbury's a very nice old town," said Josiah. "It
wouldn't be a bad place to stop at; and if the wind's contrary to-day,
it might be right to-morrow."
The captain said nothing, and Josiah, looking up to see what effect his
suggestion might have, noticed for the first time that on a face usually
smiling there were possibilities of a fixed hard look which it evidently
didn't beseem him to trifle with.
The balloon slowly rose till the aneroid marked a height of 1,500 feet
and still the current drove it steadily north-west.
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