ascents time and time again."

The exile smiled faintly, shaking his head and giving another
sigh.

"Ah, me! 'twas vastly different, then. I only marvel that you
should give me credit when I lay claim to that name, so long--it
has long faded from the public's memory, sir."

But uncle Phaeton shook his head, decidedly.

"No, no, I assure you, my friend; far from it. Whenever the
topic is brought to the front; whenever aerostatics are
discussed, your name and fame are sure to play a prominent part.
And yet,--you disappeared so long ago, never being heard of
after--"

"After sailing away upon the storm for which I had waited and
prayed, for so many weary, heart-sick months!"

"So the rumour ran, but we all believed that must be an
exaggeration, and not for a long time was all hope abandoned.
Then, more hearts than one felt sore and sad at thoughts of your
untimely fate."

"A fate infinitely worse than ordinary death such as was credited
me," huskily muttered the exile. "Ten years,--and ever since I
have been here, helpless to extricate myself, doomed to a living
death, which none other can ever fully realise! Doomed to--to--"