At the same time this assurance was given, the stranger could not
mask his uneasiness of mind, and it was really pitiful to see one
so strong in body and limb, so weak otherwise.

But uncle Phaeton was a fairly keen judge of human nature, and
possessed no small degree of tact. Divining the real cause of
that dread, he took the easiest method of allaying it, speaking
briskly as he moved across to the aerostat.

"Bear the gentleman company, my lads, while I manage the ship.
You will know what signals to make, and I can contrive the rest."

Again the recluse laughed, but now it was through pure joy, such
as he had not experienced for long years gone by. He was not to
be deserted by his rescuers from the whirlpool, and that was
comfort enough for the moment.

Thanks to that guidance, but little time was cut to waste,
Professor Featherwit taking the flying-machine away from the
shore of the lake, floating slowly above the tree-tops, guiding
his movements by those below, finally effecting a safe landing in
a miniature glade, at no great distance from the "den" alluded to
by their new-found friend.

"It will be perfectly safe here," the exile hastened to give
assurance, as that landing was made. "Then, too, this is the
only spot nigh at hand from which a hasty ascent could well be
made, even with such an admirable machine as yours. Ah, me!"
with a long breath which lacked but little of being a sigh, as he