He looked at a compass, and noted that, instead of being headed directly across the Atlantic they were bearing in a southerly direction.
"At this rate, we won't come far from getting to the West Indies ourselves," reasoned the young inventor. "But I think the gale will die away before morning."
The storm did not, however. More fiercely it blew through the hours of darkness. It was a night of terror, for they dared not go to sleep, not knowing at what moment the ship might turn turtle, or even rend apart, and plunge with them into the depths of the sea.
So they sat up, occasionally attending to the machinery, and noting the various gages. Mr. Damon made hot coffee, which they drank from time to time, and it served to refresh them.
There came a sudden burst of fury from the storm, and the airship rocked as if she was going over.
"Bless my heart!" cried Mr. Damon, springing up. "That was a close call!"
Tom said nothing. Mr. Fenwick looked pale and alarmed.
The hours passed. They were swept ever onward, at about the same speed, sometimes being whirled downward, and again tossed upward at
