"Yes."

"Give me your parasol."

She handed Little a good-sized affair of lace and silk and
whalebone. (None of your "sunshades.") Little examined its ribs
carefully.

"Give me the dog."

Lady Caroline hurriedly slipped a note under the dog's collar, and
passed over her pet.

Little tied the dog to the handle of the parasol and launched them
both into space. The next moment they were slowly, but tranquilly,
sailing to the earth.

"A parasol and a parachute are distinct, but not different. Be not
alarmed, he will get his dinner at some farm-house."

"Where are we now?"

"That opaque spot you see is London fog. Those twin clouds are
North and South America. Jerusalem and Madagascar are those specks
to the right."

Lady Caroline moved nearer; she was becoming interested. Then she
recalled herself and said freezingly, "How are we going to
descend?"