was in bed in a peasant's cottage, at
Harderwick, a village of La Gueldre, fifteen leagues from
Amsterdam, on the shores of the Zuyder-Zee.

A miracle had saved my life, but my voyage had been a series of
imprudences, committed by a lunatic, and I had not been able to
prevent them.

May this terrible narrative, though instructing those who read
it, not discourage the explorers of the air.

A WINTER AMID THE ICE.

CHAPTER I.

THE BLACK FLAG.

The cure of the ancient church of Dunkirk rose at five o'clock on
the 12th of May, 18--, to perform, according to his custom, low
mass for the benefit of a few pious sinners.

Attired in his priestly robes, he was about to proceed to the
altar, when a man entered the sacristy, at once joyous and
frightened. He was a sailor of some sixty years, but still
vigorous and sturdy, with, an open, honest countenance.

"Monsieur the cure," said he, "stop a moment, if you please."

[Illustration: "Monsieur the cure," said he, "stop a moment, if
you please."]

"What do you want so early in the morning, Jean Cornbutte?" asked
the cure.

"What do I want? Why, to embrace you in my arms, i' faith!"

"Well, after the mass at which you are going to be present--"

"The mass?" returned the old sailor, laughing. "Do you think you
are going to say your mass now, and that I will let you do so?"

"And why should I not say my mass?" asked the cure. "Explain
yourself. The third bell has sounded--"

"Whether it has or not," replied Jean Cornbutte, "it will sound
many more times to-day, monsieur the cure, for you have promised
me that you will bless, with your own hands, the marriage of my
son Louis and my niece Marie!"

"He has arrived, then," said the cure "joyfully.

"It is nearly the same thing," replied Cornbutte, rubbing his
hands. "Our brig was signalled from the look out at sunrise,--our
brig, which you yourself christened by the good name of the
'Jeune-Hardie'!"

"I congratulate you with all my heart, Cornbutte," said the cure,
taking off his chasuble and stole. "I remember our agreement. The
vicar will take my place, and I will put myself at your disposal
against your dear son's arrival."

"And I promise you that he will not make you fast long," replied
the sailor. "You have already published the banns, and you will
only have to absolve him from the sins he may have committed
between sky and water, in the Northern Ocean. I had a good idea,
that the marriage