was breaking up.
The trees were breaking up under the wind, even in the tall strength
of their bloom: the clouds were breaking up and losing even their large
heraldic shapes. Shards and shreds of copper cloud split off continually
and floated by themselves, and for some reason the truculent eye of
Turnbull was attracted to one of these careering cloudlets, which seemed
to him to career in an exaggerated manner. Also it kept its shape, which
is unusual with clouds shaken off; also its shape was of an odd sort.

Turnbull continued to stare at it, and in a little time occurred that
crucial instant when a thing, however incredible, is accepted as a fact.
The copper cloud was tumbling down towards the earth, like some gigantic
leaf from the copper beeches. And as it came nearer it was evident,
first, that it was not a cloud, and, second, that it was not itself
of the colour of copper; only, being burnished like a mirror, it had
reflected the red-brown colours of the burning clouds. As the thing
whirled like a windswept leaf down towards the wall of the garden it was
clear that it was some sort of air-ship made of metal, and slapping
the air with big broad fins of steel. When it came about a hundred feet
above the garden, a shaggy, lean figure leapt up in it, almost black
against the bronze and scarlet of the west, and, flinging out a kind of
hook or anchor, caught on to the green apple-tree just under the wall;
and from that fixed holding ground the ship swung in the red tempest
like a captive balloon.

While our friend stood frozen for an instant by his astonishment, the
queer figure in the airy car tipped the vehicle almost upside down by
leaping over the side of it, seemed to slide or drop down the rope like
a monkey, and alighted (with impossible precision and placidity) seated
on the edge of the wall, over which he kicked and dangled his legs as he
grinned at Turnbull. The wind roared in the trees yet more ruinous and
desolate, the red tails of the sunset were dragged downward like red
dragons sucked down to death, and still on the top of the asylum wall
sat the sinister figure with the grimace, swinging his feet in tune with
the tempest; while above him, at the end of its tossing or tightened
cord, the enormous iron air-ship floated as light and as little noticed
as a baby's balloon upon its string.

Turnbull's first movement after sixty motionless seconds was to turn
round and look at the large, luxuriant parallelo