breath while they were silently borne along in a vision of transcendent beauty. Beneath them, the dark clouds had been whirling in the gale that tore and churned and wrung them with its unseen airy hands; above, there was the peace of heaven itself and the loveliness of earth’s first moonlight on the evening after the first day. The moving mass of cloud below looked suddenly motionless, vast and solid as grey rock, and the huge black shadow of the balloon and the car ran swiftly over it, clear and sharply outlined. It only lasted a few minutes, for the heavy rain had soaked everything and a descent was inevitable. Soon the wet fog rose and closed overhead again, the moon took strange opalescent colours, and was dimmed and then disappeared, as the balloon sank steadily into the storm. “If we had only had a fine night, we could have got to Scotland,” said Dorothy Wynne, in a tone of profound regret. “Don’t you be too sure!” answered Bob. “With this wind it looks more like the North Sea!” “Then if our ballast had held out we could have got across to Norway,” retorted the young lady, who was not to be daunted by trifles. But at this moment the car jerked violently, throwing all its four occupants against one side of itself. It turned and rolled and jumped like a skiff in a breaking sea. “Hang on, girls!” cried Bob Trevelyan. “We’re on our trial rope already!” The two young women were already hanging on by the rigging for dear life; and Jocelyn was making it especially easy for Anne to hang on. Indeed, she had a sensation which was very like being carried along in his arms--which surprised her, for she knew she was not particularly light in spite of her slim waist. A slender ash sapling can be as heavy as a common pine nearly twice its size. Presently the jerking was varied by a violent wrench, which laid the car on its side, and almost upset it. “Bad for that tree-top,” observed Bob, as the balloon sailed away again. “What next, I wonder? Does any one see anything? One ought to, with that moon up there; but it’s as dark as Erebus.” “It’s the blackest moonlight night I’ve ever known,” laughed Anne. Possibly she found it more amusing than the other did, and she certainly felt more safe than Lady Dorothy possibly could. Jocelyn was a surprisingly strong young man, and may have exaggerated her danger a little. “I believe we are over a desert island,” said her friend cheerfully. “I’ve not seen any lights for an age.” The conversation was interrupted by a tremendous wrench, and the car was wrestling with another tree-top. “That was a rather thrilling moment!” laughed Anne Trevelyan. “I tell you what,” said Bob, not laughing at all, “at the first open space we come to, down we go! We’re sinking every minute, and I don’t want to stop her with my nose against the next oak we strike.”