The earl walked up to the table, poured out a quantity of wine into a tumbler, and took it off at a draught. Augustine feared that there might be some risk that his friend would dull his intellect in the hope of strengthening his nerves. The two then proceeded, as we have seen, through the garden into the meadow. The earl acknowledged the salutations of his acquaintance by stiffly bending his head, but never uttered a word. “Will you go back?” whispered Augustine, who began to feel uneasy as to the result of the experiment before him. The earl hesitated for an instant, only an instant; he caught sight of Dr. Bardon, watching him with a sarcastic smile on his face, which stung the proud noble like a scorpion; pushing forward with a determined effort, Reginald sprung into the car in which Mabel, with girlish impatience, had already taken her place. “Now we only want Verdon,” observed Augustine, more leisurely following his companion; “he is busy giving last orders, but he will be with us in a minute.” “And then, skyward ho!” exclaimed Mabel, whose heart beat high with excitement and pleasure, which was only heightened by a slight touch of feminine fear. Whether it were the effect of her words, or of the somewhat rocking motion given to the car, even while resting on the grass, by the swaying of the huge ball above it,—or whether the wine too hastily taken had risen into the brain of the earl, was a point never clearly decided; but at this moment the nervousness of Dashleigh suddenly rose to a pitch which entirely mastered his judgment. Rising from his seat with an agitated air, he attempted to push past Augustine, in order to get out of the car. His friend, extremely annoyed at the thought of so public an exhibition of weakness, laid his hand on the arm of the earl; but this slight action seemed only to rouse the miserable man to frenzy. “Let go!” exclaimed Dashleigh, in a voice so loud that it resounded to the utmost edges of the crowd; “Let go!” echoed a thousand voices, believing it to be the signal for ascent! The men who were grasping the ropes instantly obeyed the word, and almost with the sudden effect of an explosion, the immense balloon darted upwards to the sky, shrinking before the upturned eyes of the breathless spectators, till its vast globe gradually dwindled to the apparent size of the plaything of a child! There were deafening cheers from the crowd beyond the hedge; “Bravo! bravo! off she goes!” shouted stentorian voices; but on the faces of the nearest spectators were painted fear and dismay, as Mr. Verdon—interrupted in the midst of hurried directions by the sudden cry and shout, stretched out his hands wildly towards the receding balloon, and exclaimed in a tone of anguish,—“Merciful Heaven! they are lost!” “Lost! what do you mean, man?” exclaimed Bardon, coming forward in his blunt manner to give a voice to the fears of the rest. “And how does it happen that you are not in the car?”