Up, up, they climbed in one long sweeping ascent, passing through
drifting clouds till the machine soared like a bird above the blue
sea.

John Lexman looked down. He saw the indentations of the coast and
recognized the fringe of white houses that stood for Torquay, but
in an incredibly short space of time all signs of the land were
blotted out.

Talking was impossible. The roar of the engines defied
penetration.

Kara was evidently a skilful pilot. From time to time he
consulted the compass on the board before him, and changed his
course ever so slightly. Presently he released one hand from the
driving wheel, and scribbling on a little block of paper which was
inserted in a pocket at the side of the seat he passed it back.

John Lexman read:

"If you cannot swim there is a life belt under your seat."

John nodded.

Kara was searching the sea for something, and presently he found
it. Viewed from the height at which they flew it looked no more
than a white speck in a great blue saucer, but presently the
machine began to dip, falling at a terrific rate of speed, which
took away the breath of the man who was hanging on with both hands
to the dangerous seat behind.