"I hear exclamations and voices near me. My companions are evidently agitated, and with good reason, too; for the lights which we could see a long way below us approach with terrible rapidity. We reached the earth rather quicker than we left it.
"Suddenly we feel a dreadful shock, followed by ominous crackings. The car has grounded. The 'Géant' has made its descent. But in what part of the habitable globe, and under what zone? At Meaux!"
To employ an expression of M. Nadar's it seems that these gentlemen never before experienced such a "knock-down blow."
After all these preparations, all this trouble, all the energy employed in the undertaking—sufficient, indeed, wherewith to attempt to cross the Atlantic—to "descend at Meaux!"
The 'Géant,' however, had its revenge. Its second ascent gave it this revenge. We shall be as brief as possible in relating this voyage; but the details are all so very interesting that we regret extremely our being unable to give more than extracts from the narrative.
Our travellers committed themselves again to the mercy of the air. The Emperor, following the example of a former King of France, took considerable interest in the construction of this aerial monster, and wished the aeronaut "Bon voyage" at starting. The passengers endeavoured to pass the night as comfortably as possible, having first instituted a four hours' watch, as on board ship.
The aerial vessel glided rapidly through the air. "We repeatedly," said Nadar, "passed over some manufacturing centre, whose lights were not yet extinguished. I either hailed them with my speaking-trumpet or rang our two bells.
