ebaean song, and
became languidly aware that they were growing uproarious. I heard
Byfield expostulating, apparently in vain: for I awoke next to find that
Sheepshanks had stumbled over me while illustrating, with an empty
bottle, the motions of tossing the caber. "Old Hieland sports,"
explained Dalmahoy, wiping tears of vain laughter: "his mother's uncle
was out in the 'Forty-Five. Sorry to wake you, Ducie: balow, my babe!"
It did not occur to me to smoke danger in this tomfoolery. I turned over
and dozed again.

It seemed but a minute later that a buzzing in my ears awoke me, with a
stab of pain as though my temples were being split with a wedge. On the
instant I heard my name cried aloud, and sat up, to find myself blinking
in a broad flood of moonlight over against the agitated face of
Dalmahoy.

"Byfield----" I began.

Dalmahoy pointed. The aeronaut lay at my feet, collapsed like some
monstrous marionette, with legs and arms a-splay. Across his legs, with
head propped against a locker, reclined Sheepshanks, and gazed upwards
with an approving smile. "Awkward business," explained Dalmahoy, between
gasps. "Sheepshanks 'nmanageable; can't carry his liquor like a
gentleman: thought it funny 'pitch out ballast. Byfield lost his temper:
worst thing in the world. One thing I pride myself, 'menable to reason.
No holding Sheepshanks: Byfield got him down; too late; faint both of
us. Sheepshanks wants ring for 'shistance: pulls string: breaks. When
string breaks _Lunardi_ won't fall--tha's the devil of it."

"_With_ my tol-de-rol," Mr. Sheepshanks murmured. "Pretty--very pretty."

I cast a look aloft. The _Lunardi_ was transformed: every inch of it
frosted as with silver. All the ropes and cords ran with silver too, or
liquid mercury. And in the midst of this sparkling cage, a little below
the hoop, and five feet at least above reach, dangled the broken
valve-string.

"Well," I said, "you have made a handsome mess of it! Pass me the broken
end, and be good enough not to lose your head."

"I wish I could," he groaned, pressing it between his palms. "My dear
sir, I'm not frightened, if that is your meaning."

I was, and horribly. But the thing had to be done. The reader will
perhaps forgive me for touching shyly on the next two or three minutes,
which still recur on the smallest provocation and play bogey with my
dreams. To balance on the edge of night, quaking, gripping a frozen
rope; to climb, and feel the pit of o