h extends westward from Albany to
Buffalo. Three years before, a police mission had led me to explore
carefully the shores of the Niagara River, both above and below the
cataract and its Suspension Bridge. I had visited the two principal
islands between Buffalo and the little city of Niagara Falls, I had
explored Navy Island and also Goat Island, which separates the
American falls from those of the Canadian side.

Thus if an opportunity for flight presented itself, I should not find
myself in an unknown district. But would this chance offer? And at
heart, did I desire it, or would I seize upon it? What secrets still
remained in this affair in which good fortune or was it evil
fortune--had so closely entangled me!

On the other hand, I saw no real reason to suppose that there was any
chance of my reaching the shores of the Niagara River. The "Terror"
would surely not venture into this trap which had no exit. Probably
she would not even go to the extremity of the lake.

Such were the thoughts that spun through my excited brain, while my
eyes remained fixed upon the empty horizon.

And always one persistent question remained insolvable. Why had the
captain written to me personally that threatening letter? Why had he
spied upon me in Washington? What bond attached him to the Great
Eyrie? There might indeed be subterranean canals which gave him
passage to Lake Kirdall, but could he pierce the impenetrable
fortress of the Eyrie? No! That was beyond him!

Toward four o'clock in the afternoon, reckoning by the speed of the
"Terror" and her direction, I knew we must be approaching Buffalo;
and indeed, its outlines began to show some fifteen miles ahead.
During our passage, a few boats had been seen, but we had passed them
at a long distance, a distance which our captain could easily keep as
great as he pleased. Moreover, the "Terror" lay so low upon the
water, that at even a mile away it would have been difficult to
discover her.

Now, however, the hills encircling the end of Lake Erie, came within
vision, beyond Buffalo, forming the sort of funnel by which Lake Erie
pours its waters into the channel of the Niagara river. Some dunes
rose on the right, groups of trees stood out here and there. In the
distance, several freight steamers and fishing smacks appeared. The
sky became spotted with trails of smoke, which were swept along by a
light eastern breeze.

What was our captain thinking of in still heading toward the por