Ifoundmyuncleinmysitting-roominanarm-chair，withhisfeetuponthefenderofthegasstove，whichhehadlit，andnowhewasfeeblydrunkenwithmywhisky，andverywearyinbodyandspirit，andinclinedtobecowardly。
　　“Ilef’mydrops。”hesaid。
　　Hechangedhisclothesslowlyandunwillingly。Ihadtobullyhim，Ihadalmosttoshovehimtotheairshipandtuckhimupuponitswickerflat。Single-handedImadebutaclumsystart；
　　wescrapedalongtheroofoftheshedandbentavanofthepropeller，andforatimeIhungunderneathwithouthisofferingahandtohelpmetoclamberup。Ifithadn’tbeenforasortofanchoringtrolleydeviceofCothope’s，asortofslipanchorrunningonarail，weshouldneverhavegotclearatall。
　　TheincidentsofourflightinLordRobertsBdonotarrangethemselvesinanyconsecutiveorder。Tothinkofthatadventureislikedippinghaphazardintoanalbumofviews。Oneisremindedfirstofthisandthenofthat。Wewerebothlyingdownonahorizontalplateofbasketwork；forLordRobertsBhadnoneoftheelegantaccommodationofaballoon。Ilayforward，andmyunclebehindmeinsuchapositionthathecouldseehardlyanythingofourflight。Wewereprotectedfromrollingoversimplybynettingbetweenthesteelstays。Itwasimpossibleforustostandupatall；wehadeithertolieorcrawlonallfoursoverthebasketwork。AmidshipswerelockersmadeofWatson’sAulitematerial，——andbetweentheseitwasthatIhadputmyuncle，wrappedinrugs。Iworesealskinmotoringbootsandgloves，andamotoringfurcoatovermytweeds，andIcontrolledtheenginebyBowdenwiresandleversforward。
　　Theearlypartofthatnight’sexperiencewasmadeupofwarmth，ofmoonlitSurreyandSussexlandscape，andofarapidandsuccessfulflight，ascendingandswooping，andthenascendingagainsouthward。Icouldnotwatchthecloudsbecausetheairshipoverhungme；Icouldnotseethestarsnorgaugethemeteorologicalhappening，butitwasfairlycleartomethatawindshiftingbetweennorthandnortheastwasgatheringstrength，andafterIhadsatisfiedmyselfbyaseriesofentirelysuccessfulexpansionsandcontractionsoftherealair-worthinessofLordRobertsB，Istoppedtheenginetosavemypetrol，andletthemonsterdrift，checkingitsprogressbythedimlandscapebelow。Myunclelayquitestillbehindme，sayinglittleandstaringinfrontofhim，andIwaslefttomyownthoughtsandsensations。
　　Mythoughts，whatevertheywere，havelongsincefadedoutofmemory，andmysensationshavemergedintoonecontinuousmemoryofancountrysidelying，asitseemed，undersnow，withsquarepatchesofdimness，whitephantomsofroads，rentsandpoolsofvelvetyblackness，andlamp-jewelledhouses。Irememberatrainboringitswaylikeahasteningcaterpillaroffireacrossthelandscape，andhowdistinctlyIhearditsclatter。Everytownandstreetwasbuttonedwithstreetlamps。IcamequiteclosetotheSouthDownsnearLewes，andallthelightswereoutinthehouses，andthepeoplegonetobed。WeleftthelandalittletotheeastofBrighton，andbythattimeBrightonwaswellabed。
　　andthebrightlylitsea-frontdeserted。ThenIletoutthegaschambertoitsfullestextentandrose。Iliketobehighabovewater。
　　Idonotclearlyknowwhathappenedinthenight。IthinkImusthavedozed，andprobablymyuncleslept。IrememberthatonceortwiceIheardhimtalkinginaneager，muffledvoicetohimself，ortoanimaginarycourt。Buttherecanbenodoubtthewindchangedrightroundintotheeast，andthatwewerecarriedfardowntheChannelwithoutanysuspicionoftheimmenseleewayweweremaking。IrememberthekindofstupidperplexitywithwhichIsawthedawnbreakingoveragreywasteofwater，below，andrealisedthatsomethingwaswrong。IwassostupidthatitwasonlyafterthesunriseIreallynoticedthetrendofthefoamcapsbelow，andperceivedwewereinasevereeasterlygale。Eventhen，insteadofheadingsoutheasterly，Isettheenginegoing，headedsouth，andsocontinuedacoursethatmustneedshaveeitherjusthitUshant，orcarryusovertheBayofBiscay。I
　　thoughtIwaseastofCherbourg，whenIwasfartothewestandstoppedmyengineinthatbelief，andthensetitgoingagain。I
　　didactuallysightthecoastofBrittanytothesoutheastinthelateafternoon，andthatitwaswokemeuptothegravityofourposition。Idiscovereditbyaccidentinthesoutheast，whenI
　　waslookingforitinthesouthwest。Iturnedabouteastandfacedthewindforsometime，andfindingIhadnochanceinitsteeth，wenthigh，whereitseemedlessviolent，andtriedtomakeacoursesoutheast。ItwasonlythenthatIrealisedwhatagaleIwasin。Ihadbeengoingwestward，andperhapseveningustsnorthofwest，atapaceoffiftyorsixtymilesanhour。
　　ThenIbeganwhatIsupposewouldbecalledaFightagainsttheeastwind。OnecallsitaFight，butitwasreallyalmostasunlikeafightasplainsewing。Thewindtriedtodrivemewestwardly，andItriedtogetasmuchasIcouldeastwardly，withthewindbeatingandrockingusirregularly，butbynomeansunbearably，forabouttwelvehours。Myhopelayinthewindabating，andourkeepingintheairandeastwardofFinisterreuntilitdid，andthechiefdangerwastheexhaustionofourpetrol。Itwasalongandanxiousandalmostmeditativetime；wewerefairlywarm，andonlyslowlygettinghungry，andexceptthatmyunclegrumbledalittleandproducedsomephilosophicalreflections，andbegantofussabouthavingatemperature，wetalkedverylittle。Iwastiredandsulky，andchieflyworriedabouttheengine。Ihadtoresistatendencytocrawlbackandlookatit。Ididnotcaretoriskcontractingourgaschamberforfearoflosinggas。Nothingwaslesslikeafight。Iknowthatinpopularmagazines，andsoforth，allsuchoccasionsasthisaredepictedintermsofhysteria。Captainssavetheirshipsengineerscompletetheirbridges，generalsconducttheirbattles，inastateofdancingexcitement，foamingreconditetechnicalitiesatthelips。Isupposethatsortofthingworksupthereader，butsofarasitprofessestorepresentreality，Iamconvinceditisallchildishnonsense。
　　schoolboysoffifteen，girlsofeighteen，andliterarymenalltheirlives，mayhavethesesquealingfits，butmyownexperienceisthatmostexcitingscenesarenotexciting，andmostoftheurgentmomentsinlifearemetbysteady-headedmen。
　　NeitherInormyunclespentthenightinejaculations，norinhumorousallusions，noranyofthesethings。Weremainedlumpish。
　　Myunclestuckinhisplaceandgrumbledabouthisstomach，andoccasionallyrambledoffintoexpositionsofhisfinancialpositionanddenunciationsofNeal——hecertainlystruckoutoneortwogoodphrasesforNeal——andIcrawledaboutatrareintervalsinavaguesortofwayandgrunted，andourbasketworkcreakedcontinually，andthewindonourquartermadeasortofruffledflappinginthewallofthegaschamber。Forallourwrapswegotfrightfullycoldasthenightworeon。
　　Imusthavedozed，anditwasstilldarkwhenIrealisedwithastartthatwewerenearlyduesouthof，andalongwayfrom，aregularly-flashinglighthouse，standingoutbeforetheglowofsomegreattown，andthenthatthethingthathadawakenedmewasthecessationofourengine，andthatweweredrivingbacktothewest。
　　Then，indeed，foratimeIfeltthegrimthrilloflife。I
　　crawledforwardtothecordsofthereleasevalves，mademyunclecrawlforwardtoo，andletoutthegasuntilwewerefallingdownthroughtheairlikeaclumsyglidertowardsthevaguegreynessthatwasland。
　　SomethingmusthaveintervenedherethatIhaveforgotten。
　　IsawthelightsofBordeauxwhenitwasquitedark，anebuloushazeagainstblack；ofthatIamreasonablysure。Butcertainlyourfalltookplaceinthecold，uncertainlightofearlydawn。
　　Iam，atleast，equallysureofthat。AndMimizan，nearwherewedropped，isfiftymilesfromBordeaux，whoseharbourlightsI
　　musthaveseen。
　　Iremembercomingdownatlastwithacuriousindifference，andactuallyrousingmyselftosteer。Buttheactualcomingtoearthwasexcitingenough。Irememberourprolongeddragginglandfall，andthedifficultyIhadtogetclear，andhowagustofwindcaughtLordRobertsBasmyunclestumbledawayfromtheropesandlitter，anddroppedmeheavily，andthrewmeontomyknees。
　　Thencametherealisationthatthemonsterwasalmostconsciouslydisentanglingitselfforescape，andthenthelightleapofitsrebound。Theropeslippedoutofreachofmyhand。Irememberrunningknee-deepinasaltpoolinhopelesspursuitoftheairship。
　　Asitdraggedandroseseaward，andhowonlyafterithadescapedmyuttermostefforttorecaptureit，didIrealisethatthiswasquitethebestthingthatcouldhavehappened。Itdroveswiftlyoverthesandydunes，liftingandfalling，andwashiddenbyaclumpofwindbittentrees。Thenitreappearedmuchfurtheroff，andstillreceding。Itsoaredforatime，andsankslowly，andafterthatIsawitnomore。Isupposeitfellintotheseaandgotwettedwithsaltwaterandheavy，andsobecamedeflatedandsank。
　　Itwasneverfound，andtherewasneverareportofanyoneseeingitafteritescapedfromme。
　　ButifIfindithardtotellthestoryofourlongflightthroughtheairoverseas，atleastthatdawninFrancestandscoldandclearandfull。IseeagainalmostasifIsawoncemorewithmybodilyeyestheridgesofsandrisingbehindridgesofsand，greyandcoldandblack-browed，withaninsufficientgrass。Ifeelagaintheclear，coldchillofdawn，andhearthedistantbarkingofadog。Ifindmyselfaskingagain，“Whatshallwedonow？”andtryingtoschemewithbraintiredbeyondmeasure。
　　Atfirstmyuncleoccupiedmyattention。Hewasshiveringagooddeal，anditwasallIcoulddotoresistmydesiretogethimintoacomfortablebedatonce。ButIwantedtoappearplausiblyinthispartoftheworld。Ifeltitwouldnotdototurnupanywhereatdawnandrest，itwouldbealtogethertooconspicuous；wemustrestuntilthedaywaswelladvanced，andthenappearasroad-stainedpedestriansseekingameal。Igavehimmostofwhatwasleftofthebiscuits，emptiedourflasks，andadvisedhimtosleep，butatfirstitwastoocold，albeitI
　　wrappedthebigfurrugaroundhim。
　　Iwasstrucknowbytheflushedwearinessofhisface，andthelookofagethegreystubbleonhisunshavedchingavehim。Hesatcrumpledup，shiveringandcoughing，munchingreluctantly，butdrinkingeagerly，andwhimperingalittle，adreadfullypitifulfiguretome。Butwehadtogothroughwithit；therewasnowayoutforus。
　　Presentlythesunroseoverthepines，andthesandgrewrapidlywarm。Myunclehaddoneeating，andsatwithhiswristsrestingonhisknees，themosthopelesslookingoflostsouls。