year in the northern hemisphere, when there is hardly any night along
the sixtieth parallel.

Either from custom or intention Robur was in no hurry to leave his
deck-house, When he came out this morning be contented himself with
bowing to his two guests as he passed them in the stern of the
aeronef.

And now Frycollin ventured out of his cabin. His eyes red with
sleeplessness, and dazed in their look, he tottered along, like a man
whose foot feels it is not on solid ground. His first glance was at
the suspensory screws, which were working with gratifying regularity
without any signs of haste. That done, the Negro stumbled along to
the rail, and grasped it with both hands, so as to make sure of his
balance. Evidently he wished to view the country over which the
"Albatross" was flying at the height of seven hundred feet or more.

At first he kept himself well back behind the rail. Then he shook it
to make sure it was firm; then he drew himself up; then he bent
forward; then he stretched out his head. It need not be said that
while he was executing these different maneuvers he kept his eyes
shut. At last he opened them.

What a shout! And how quickly he fled! And how deeply his head sank
back into his shoulders! At the bottom of the abyss he had seen the
immense ocean. His hair would have risen on end--if it had not been
wool.

"The sea! The sea!" he cried. And Frycollin would have fallen on the
deck had not the cook opened his arms to receive him.