aeronaut. The flame increased, suddenly disappeared, and re-appeared at
the top of the aerostat under the form of an immense jet of burning gas.
This sinister light projected over the Boulevard, and over the quarter
Montmartre. Then I saw the unfortunate woman rise, twice attempt to
compress the orifice of the balloon, to extinguish the fire, then seat
herself in the car and seek to direct its descent; for she did not fall.
The combustion of the gas lasted several minutes. The balloon,
diminishing by degrees, continued to descend, but this was not a fall!
The wind blew from the northeast, and drove her over Paris. There were,
at that time, in the neighbourhood of the house No. 16 Rue de Provence,
immense gardens. The aeronaut might have fallen there without danger.
But unhappily the balloon and the car alighted on the roof of the house.
The shock was slight. 'Help!' cried the unfortunate woman. I arrived in
the street at that moment. The car slid along the roof, and encountered
an iron hook. At this shock, Madame Blanchard was thrown out of the car,
and precipitated on the pavement! She was killed!"

These histories of fatal augury froze me with horror. The unknown was
standing upright, with bare head, bristling hair, haggard eyes.

Illusion was no longer possible. I saw at last the horrible truth. I had
to deal with a madman!

He threw out half the ballast, and we must have been borne to a height
of 7000 metres! Blood spouted from my nose and mouth.

"What a fine thing it is to be martyrs to science! They are canonized by
posterity!"

I heard no more. The unknown looked around him with horror, and knelt at