“It is no sudden interest,” he explained. “I have always loved the conquest of space. The same motor drives the automobile and the aeroplane. Is not the rudder for the air much like that which steers a sailboat at sea? One grows out of the other. But what does the sensation of speed amount to, compared with the satisfaction of springing free from the soil and attaining true liberty at last? And the field is infinite.” I listened without interrupting him, knowing that he was interested only in his own visions. “_She_ did not dissuade me when I thought of it before.” (He did not mention his wife more directly.) “To her, work was the glory of man. ‘I am afraid,’ she said to me, ‘but I will pray. A woman can afford to be afraid.’ _The other_, at Rheims, always cried to me to go higher.” What other? I abandoned any attempt to understand this unexplained allusion. On several previous occasions I had questioned his incoherent remarks. This time it was better not to interrupt him. “After I lost her, I endured days of agony. I should have been glad to punish myself, to scourge myself.” Again I found trembling on his lips the same confession of some mysterious guilt which had come when he heard “The Lord of Burleigh.” Here was the secret that tormented him. After a moment’s hesitation he went on: “Even in the greatest suffering, the desire for life keeps its power. It seemed to me that danger would bring me nearer to her and at the same time in danger there is an exaltation which carries you one does not know where. Perhaps my vocation, as you call it, is due to that. Some old investigations and scientific studies had prepared me for it. I have perfected somewhat the work of others, but I have not yet invented anything. My merit is unimportant. Do not exaggerate it. Only good luck and a certain audacity have enabled me to attain interesting results. Ah, if I could discover some automatic way to assure lateral stability, that would be another story.” Our path ended in the reeds along the bank of the pond. He cast loose the boat that was moored there, and I took the oars, while he steered. After we had pushed off, he continued: “The monoplane which I use I have named for her, but nobody knows it. Very soon I shall not have the right to do so.” Why would he not have the right? I inquired about his experiments in altitude.