"About two miles," answered the American laconically, "it is a
chance for us, but a slim one."

The balloon gradually sank. For twenty minutes the car glided
along not more than two hundred feet above the waves. The island
was now quite near. It was a barren mound of stone, worn into
gullies and sharp precipices by the action of the waves and
rain. Hardly a tree or a shrub was in sight.

"It looks like the rocky crown of a great stone mountain hidden
in the ocean," said the Englishman; "half a mile to the shore, a
hundred feet to the water; at this rate of speed the wind would
smash us against those rocks like a couple of bird's eggs
dropped from the clouds. We must fall into the water and swim
ashore. There is no use trying to save the balloon."

"We had better be about it, then," said Johnston, rising
stiffly and holding to the ropes. "If we should go down in the
water with the balloon we would get tangled in the ropes and get
asphyxiated with the gas. We had better hang down under the
basket and let go at exactly the same time."

The water was not more than forty feet beneath, and the island
was getting nearer every instant. The two aeronauts swung over
on opposite sides of the car and, face to face, hung by their
hands beneath.

"I dread the plunge," muttered Thorndyke; "I feel as weak as a
sick kitten; I am not sure that I can swim that distance, but
the water looks still enough."