re he was doomed to stay, for the winter winds blew
shrill and strong from the west. Day after day he waited for more
favourable weather, and day after day he heard with still greater
concern that an Englishman named Blanchard was already at Dover, waiting
only for the winds to subside a little before he set out in his balloon.
Pilatre's anxiety was increased every time he thought of the forty
thousand francs he had begged from the Government, and, hoping that
report had been exaggerated, he took ship to Dover to see if Mr.
Blanchard was really as well prepared as people said. There had been no
exaggeration, and he returned to Boulogne more disturbed than ever.

With the assistance of a young doctor, named Romain, he made a number of
small balloons, and sent them into the air at frequent intervals to see
if they would rise into some current which would waft them to England,
and show a way that he might follow. But they all fell back on the
French coast, and the hopes of success grew less and less. At last the
rough weather died away and a lighter wind blew from the west. Letters
came from Paris urging him to ascend, and reminding him of the money
paid for the experiment. Contrary winds were not considered by the
officials of Paris, and poor Pilatre could only repeat that it was
impossible to sail against them. With eager eyes he watched the sea in
the direction of Dover, and one day (it was the 7th of December) he saw
Blanchard's balloon come sailing majestically over the grey waters, and
knew that the strange race was lost. France would not have the honour of
having first crossed the Channel through the air. But Pilatre de Rozier,
being a brave man, hastened to Calais, and was among the first to
congratulate his successful rival. He would now have been willing to
abandon his project, but such a thing was not to be permitted. He was
told that it was easier to sail from England to France, since the latter
had a much longer coast-line, whereas it would be a great feat for him
to accomplish the reverse journey. It was vain to point out that his
balloon had become weather-worn in the long waiting, and how his
materials had suffered from the attacks of rats. The forty thousand
francs must not be spent for nothing; so Pilatre patched his taffeta as
best he could, and with the heroic assistance of his friend, Romain, had
things fairly in order by June 13th, though he was so uncertain of
success that he declined to endanger the