“It is true, I have carried stones, but zey vere small,” said Schwab lugubriously, remembering the means by which he had mounted the fence at Midfont in pursuit of business. Leaving him to it, Oliphant got back into the car. Tom pressed the lever, and the airship, relieved of near two hundredweight of German subject and the lesser bulk of the Moor, soared into the air. Tom’s last view, as the vessel rose clear of the kasbah, was Schwab limping across the roof under the burden of a large stone from the coping. “A most singular proceeding!” murmured Sir Mark, as the airship whirred over the hills. “I wonder how I stand—diplomatically considered. The vessel goes with consummate ease. There is positively no roll—nothing to cause seasickness.” Tom laughed. The matter-of-fact at this moment was very refreshing. “I hope you will redeem your promise to rescue Mr. Schwab,” the envoy continued. “He has been a great joy to me in my captivity.” “Oh yes, we’ll get him. We shall drop you in a few minutes. You will not mind being left for a little while?” “Not at all, not at all. I find the air and the motion most invigorating. I have lately been very conscious of the inconvenience of having a nose.” Tom did not know, though Oliphant suspected, that Sir Mark’s cool manner was adopted intentionally—to ease the strain on their nerves. A man is not trained to diplomacy for nothing. He kept up a quiet flow of nothings until the hill was reached. “A very airy situation,” he remarked, as he was set down on the hill-top. “Yes. You’ll find it cold,” said Tom. “Here’s my coat.” “Thanks. Having escaped asphyxia, it would certainly be a pity to contract pneumonia. You look quite comfortable yourself: the Moorish djellab is a very warm garment, I should think.” He put on Tom’s reefer, which had lain in a corner of the car. Then Tom sent the airship aloft again, and hurried back to the kasbah. CHAPTER XII—A HITCH Short as the time seemed, it was in reality nearly an hour before the airship once more rested on the roof of the kasbah. While it was still hovering above, Tom manœuvring for a landing, there came the muffled sound of shots and the rending of wood. “They’ve broken in,” cried Oliphant. The Moors had indeed burst through the lower doors, released the infuriated sheikh, and, finding themselves unable to lift the trapdoor, were firing upwards through it. Schwab, who had been sitting on the pile of stones which he and Abdul had heaped on the covering, to reinforce their weight with his own, slipped off with amazing alacrity just as the airship came to rest. “Gott sei Dank!” he exclaimed, as Tom joined him. [Illustration: “TOM, SEIZING A BIG STONE, THREW IT WITH ALL HIS FORCE INTO THE BLACK ROOM BENEATH.”] He needed no invitation to hurry into the car. As soon as Abdul was aboard Tom started the engines. To his consternation the airship again refused to rise. “Good heavens! what a weight you must be!” he exclaimed.