The upper deck ended in a railing, below which protruded, from
the level of the lower deck, the prow proper of the boat. Upon
this prow, in a small compartment of which the roof, as well as
the walls, was of hardened glass, stood the steersman amid his
wheels. But the wheels were unlike anything that the bewildered
man who looked down had ever dreamed of. First, they were not
more than six inches in diameter; and next, they were arranged,
like notes on a keyboard, with their edges towards him, with the
whole set curved round him in a semicircle.

"Those to right and left," explained the priest, "control the
planes on either side; those in front, on the left, control the
engines and the gas supply; and on the right, the tail of the
boat. Watch him, and you'll see. We're just starting."

As he spoke three bells sounded from below, followed, after a
pause, by a fourth. The steersman straightened himself as the
first rang out and glanced round him; and upon the fourth, bent
himself suddenly over the key board, like a musician addressing
himself to a piano.

For the first instant Monsignor was conscious of a slight swaying
motion, which resolved itself presently into a faint sensation of
constriction on his temples, but no more. Then this passed, and
as he glanced away again from the steersman, who was erect once
more, his look happened to fall over the edge of the boat. He
grasped his friend convulsively.

"Look," he said, "what's happened?"