in perfect working order, the weather also being fine and
wearing a settled aspect, von Schalckenberg told himself that there was
not the slightest necessity for the maintenance of a look-out, and he
therefore also retired. A quarter of an hour later the whole of the
crew were sunk in profound repose, and the _Flying Fish_, left to
herself, was leisurely wending her way northward at a height of nearly a
mile above the earth's surface.

The first of the quartette to put in an appearance on deck next morning
was the professor, who was awakened just as day was breaking by the
faint sound of a steam whistle. Springing hastily from his very
comfortable couch, he rushed up the companion way and into the open air,
without even pausing to don his nether garments. Springing to the guard
rail he looked around and below him, and the half-formed fear that
something had gone amiss, and that the ship was in danger, was at once
dissipated. He saw that the _Flying Fish_ was moving rapidly along with
the land beneath her, the breeze having freshened during the night,
whilst still blowing from the same quarter, causing them to reach the
Irish coast sooner than had been anticipated. The mercury stood at the
same height in the tube as it had done when they retired to rest on the
preceding night; the ship had consequently maintained her approximate
height above the sea-level, the only variation being that due to the
greater or lesser density of the atmosphere; which was eminently
satisfactory, as it showed that the professor's hastily constructed
apparatus for maintaining an uniform level had been faithfully
performing its duty.

These facts ascertained, von Schalckenberg cast his glance over the
scene spread out beneath him, in order to ascertain, if possible, his
position. The morning was beautifully clear, the atmosphere being
entirely destitute of clouds, and the only obstacle to uninterrupted
vision was a thick mist which overspread the earth outstretched below
him like an immense map. This, to a certain extent, rendered prompt
identification of the locality difficult; but a lake of very irregular
triangular shape was immediately underneath the ship, and from S. round
to about W.S.W., at a distance of about eight miles, extended a range of
hills which, from their height, the professor easily identified as
Macgillicuddy's Reeks, the lake below being Killarney. Other hills
towered up out of the mist all round the ship, and, at a