e the dome of St. Peter's.
We will go farther."

I scarcely heard him; everything was buzzing around me! There was an
opening in the clouds!

"See that city, my host;" said the unknown. "It is Spire. Nothing else!"

I dared not lean over the railing of the car. Nevertheless I perceived a
little black spot. This was Spire. The broad Rhine looked like a riband,
the great roads like threads. Above our heads the sky was of a deep
azure; I was benumbed with the cold. The birds had long since forsaken
us; in this rarefied sir their flight would have been impossible. We
were alone in space, and I in the presence of a strange man!

"It is useless for you to know whither I am taking you," said he, and he
threw the compass into the clouds. "A fall is a fine thing. You know
that there have been a few victims from Pilatre des Rosiers down to
Lieutenant Gale, and these misfortunes have always been caused by
imprudence. Pilatre des Rosiers ascended in company with Remain, at
Boulogne, on the 13th of June, 1785. To his balloon, inflated with gas,
he had suspended a _mongolfier_ filled with warm air, undoubtedly to
save the trouble of letting off gas, or throwing out ballast. It was
like putting a chafing-dish beneath a powder-cask. The imprudent men
rose to a height of four hundred metres, and encountered opposing winds,
which drove them over the ocean. In order to descend, Pilatre attempted
to open the valve of the aerostat; but the cord of this valve caught in
the balloon, and tore it so that it was emptied in an instant. It fell
on the mongolfier, overturned it, and the imprudent men were dashed to
pieces in a few seconds. It is _frightful, is_ it not?" said the
unknown, shaking me from my torpor.

I could reply only by these words:

"In pity, let us descend! The clouds are gathering around us in every
direction, and frightful detonations reverberating from the cavity of
the aerostat are multiplying around us."

"You make me impatient!" said he. "You shall no longer know whether we
are ascending or descending."

And the barometer went after the compass, along with some bags of sand.
We must have been at a height of four thousand metres. Some icicles were
attached to the sides of the car, and a sort of fine snow penetrated to
my bones. Meanwhile a terrific storm was bursting beneath our feet. We
were above it.

"Do not fear," said my strange companion; "it is only imprudence that
makes victims. Olivari, who perished at Or