“I expect Robur will soon have us brought before him.” said Phil Evans. “I hope so.” said Uncle Prudent. “And I shall tell him—” “What?” “That he began by being rude and ended in being unbearable.” Here Phil Evans noticed that day was beginning to break. A gleam, still faint, filtered through the narrow window opposite the door. It ought thus to be about four o’clock in the morning for it is at that hour in the month of June in this latitude that the horizon of Philadelphia is tinged by the first rays of the dawn. But when Uncle Prudent sounded his repeater—which was a masterpiece from his colleague’s factory—the tiny gong only gave a quarter to three, and the watch had not stopped. “That is strange!” said Phil Evans. “At a quarter to three it ought still to be night.” “Perhaps my watch has got slow.” answered Uncle Prudent. “A watch of the Wheelton Watch Company!” exclaimed Phil Evans. Whatever might be the reason, there was no doubt that the day was breaking. Gradually the window became white in the deep darkness of the cell. However, if the dawn appeared sooner than the fortieth parallel permitted, it did not advance with the rapidity peculiar to lower latitudes. This was another observation—of Uncle Prudent’s—a new inexplicable phenomenon. “Couldn’t we get up to the window and see where we are?” “We might.” said Uncle Prudent. “Frycollin, get up!” The Negro arose. “Put your back against the wall.” continued Prudent, “and you, Evans, get on his shoulders while I buttress him up.” “Right!” said Evans. An instant afterwards his knees were on Frycollin’s shoulders, and his eyes were level with the window. The window was not of lenticular glass like those on shipboard, but was a simple flat pane. It was small, and Phil Evans found his range of view was much limited. “Break the glass.” said Prudent, “and perhaps you will be able to see better.” Phil Evans gave it a sharp knock with the handle of his bowie-knife. It gave back a silvery sound, but it did not break. Another and more violent blow. The same result. “It is unbreakable glass!” said Evans. It appeared as though the pane was made of glass toughened on the Siemens system—as after several blows it remained intact. The light had now increased, and Phil Evans could see for some distance within the radius allowed by the frame. “What do you see?” asked Uncle Prudent. “Nothing.” “What? Not any trees?” “No.” “Not even the top branches?” “No.” “Then we are not in the clearing?” “Neither in the clearing nor in the park.” “Don’t you see any roofs of houses or monuments?” said Prudent, whose disappointment and anger were increasing rapidly. “No.” “What! Not a flagstaff, nor a church tower, nor a chimney?” “Nothing but space.” As he uttered the words the door opened. A man appeared on the threshold. It was Robur. “Honorable balloonists” he said, in a serious voice, “you are now free to go and come as you like.” “Free!” exclaimed Uncle Prudent.