were built.

It was too clear that in some wild rush of the waters
the ground had yielded a trifle. We could not find that
the foundations had sunk more than six inches, but that
was enough. In that fatal six inches' decline of the
centring, the MOON had been launched upon the ways just
as George had intended that it should be when he was
ready. But it had slid, not rolled, down upon these
angry fly-wheels, and in an instant, with all our
friends, it had been hurled into the sky!

"They have gone up!" said Haliburton; "She has gone
up!" said I;--both in one breath. And with a common
instinct, we looked up into the blue.

But of course she was not there.

--------

Not a shred of letter or any other tidings could we
find in any of the shanties. It was indeed six weeks
since George and Fanny and their children had moved into
Annie and Diamond,--two unoccupied cells of the MOON,--so
much more comfortable had the cells proved than the
cabins, for winter life. Returning to No. 7, we found
there many of the laborers, who were astonished at what
we told them. They had been paid off on the 30th, and
told to come up again on the 15th of April, to see the
launch. One of them, a man named Rob Shea, told me that