had thought of some little
excursion. Perhaps in the fields ten or twenty miles off. "I don't think
I would like to start with the Channel. Suppose we begin somewhere else,
and try the Channel later on. It will be better--if anything happened,
you know--to have the water warm."
"Nonsense," said the captain cheerily; "we shall never be nearer the
water than 2,000 feet. We'll dine in Paris to-morrow night, and I'll
take you to the Closerie after dinner. It will do them good to see you
there. Now that's settled, and you'd better go to bed straight off.
We'll have to be up early in the morning to catch the mail train for
Dover. I've got my balloon there all ready, and we'll start about noon."
This was perfectly horrible. Josiah felt as if it was a hideous
nightmare, and he had a dim hope that presently he would wake up. But
there was the burly form of the captain before him, with his third cigar
sticking in the side of his mouth, and a pleased smile upon his face in
anticipation of this new adventure.
Those who have learned something of the character of Josiah by reading
earlier chapters of his history, will not need to be told how this
ended. If he had been in company of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,
when they started on their progress through the fiery furnace, and if
they had insisted upon his accompanying them, he would have smiled
feebly, and gone--that is, if he could not by some means or other slink
away out of sight. Now, if he could have gone out of the door on some
pretence and run off, down King Street, he would have borne the
subsequent shame and humiliation. But he knew that the captain would
have been up with him in five strides. So he determined to make the best
of it, drank another tumbler of claret, and became almost hysterically
eager for the morning.
"I'll see you don't oversleep yourself," were the last words of the
captain as he went off. "I'll look you up and take you down to Victoria
in my hansom. You needn't bring any luggage, you know. A clean shirt and
a tooth-brush will see you through."
Thus faded Josiah's last and secret hope, one he had cherished even
whilst he drank his claret and talked boldly of aerial navigation. He
might, he had thought, peradventure oversleep himself and miss the
train, and all would be well. But the captain would call for him, and
there was plainly no escape. However, he had made his will, and
"Underground England" was in such an advanced stage that it might
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