"Here is the first aerial voyage undertaken by Pilatre des Rosiers and the Marquis d'Arlandes, four months after the discovery of balloons. Louis XVI. refused his consent to this voyage; two condemned criminals were to have first attempted aerial travelling. Pilatre des Rosiers was indignant at this injustice and, by means of artifice, succeeded in setting out. This car, which renders the management of the balloon easy, had not then been invented; a circular gallery surrounded the lower part of the aerostat. The two aeronauts stationed themselves at the extremities of this gallery. The damp straw with which it was filled encumbered their movements. A chafing-dish was suspended beneath the orifice of the balloon; when the voyagers wished to ascend, they threw, with a long fork, straw upon this brazier, at the risk of burning the machine, and the air, growing warmer, gave to the balloon a new ascensional force. The two bold navigators ascended, on the 21st of November, 1783, from the gardens of La Muette, which the Dauphin had placed at their disposal. The aerostat rose majestically, passed the Isle des Cygnes, crossed the Seine at the BarriËre de la Conference, and, directing its way between the dome of the Invalides and L'Ecole Militaire, approached St. Sulpice; then the aeronauts increased the fire, ascended, cleared the Boulevard, and descended beyond the BarriËre d'Enfer. As it touched the ground, the collapsed, and buried Pilatre des Rosiers beneath its folds." "Unfortunate presage!" said I, interested in these details, which so nearly concerned me. "Presage of his catastrophe," replied the unknown, with sadness. "You have experienced nothing similar?" "Nothing!" "Bah! misfortunes often arrive without presage." And he remained silent. We were advancing towards the south; the magnetic needle pointed in the direction of Frankfort, which was flying beneath our feet. "Perhaps we shall have a storm," said the young man. "We will descend first." "Indeed! it will be better to ascend; we shall escape more surely;" and two bags of sand were thrown overboard. The balloon rose rapidly, and stopped at twelve hundred metres. The cold was now intense, and there was a slight buzzing in my ears. Nevertheless, the rays of the sun fell hotly on the globe, and, dilating the gas it contained, gave it a greater ascensional force. I was stupified. "Fear nothing," said the young man to me. "We have three thousand five hundred toises of respirable air. You need not trouble yourself about my proceedings." I would have risen, but a vigorous hand detained me on my seat. "Your name?" asked I. "My name! how does it concern you?" "I have the honour to ask your name." "I am called Erostratus or Empedocles,--as you please. Are you interested in the progress of aerostatic science?" He spoke with icy coldness, and I asked myself with whom I had to do.