Lady Caroline fainted. When she revived it was dark. They were apparently cleaving their way through a solid block of black marble. She moaned and shuddered.
“I wish we had a light.”
“I have no lucifers,” said Little. “I observe, however, that you wear a necklace of amber. Amber under certain conditions becomes highly electrical. Permit me.”
He took the amber necklace and rubbed it briskly. Then he asked her to present her knuckle to the gem. A bright spark was the result. This was repeated for some hours. The light was not brilliant, but it was enough for the purposes of propriety, and satisfied the delicately minded girl.
Suddenly there was a tearing, hissing noise and a smell of gas. Little looked up and turned pale. The balloon, at what I shall call the pointed end of the Bologna sausage, was evidently bursting from increased pressure. The gas was escaping, and already they were beginning to descend. Little was resigned but firm.
“If the silk gives way, then we are lost. Unfortunately I have no rope nor material for binding it.”
The woman’s instinct had arrived at the same conclusion sooner than the man’s reason. But she was hesitating over a detail.
“Will you go down the rope for a moment?” she said, with a sweet smile.
Little went down. Presently she called to him. She held something in her hand,—a wonderful invention of the seventeenth century, improved and perfected in this: a pyramid of sixteen circular hoops of light yet strong steel, attached to each other by cloth bands.
With a cry of joy Little seized them, climbed to the balloon, and fitted the elastic hoops over its conical end. Then he returned to the car.
“We are saved.” Lady Caroline, blushing, gathered her slim but antique drapery against the other end of the car.
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