The machine swayed gently from side to side, and looking over, the passenger saw the ground recede beneath him.
Up, up, they climbed in one long sweeping ascent, passing through drifting clouds till the machine soared like a bird above the blue sea.
John Lexman looked down.

He saw the indentations of the coast and recognized the fringe of white houses that stood for Torquay, but in an incredibly short space of time all signs of the land were blotted out.
Talking was impossible.

The roar of the engines defied penetration.
Kara was evidently a skilful pilot.

From time to time he consulted the compass on the board before him, and changed his course ever so slightly.

Presently he released one hand from the driving wheel, and scribbling on a little block of paper which was inserted in a pocket at the side of the seat he passed it back.
John Lexman read: "If you cannot swim there is a life belt under your seat." John nodded.
Kara was searching the sea for something, and presently he found it.
Viewed from the height at which they flew it looked no more than a white speck in a great blue saucer, but presently the machine began to dip, falling at a terrific rate of speed, which took away the breath of the man who was hanging on with both hands to the dangerous seat behind.
He was deadly cold, but had hardly noticed the fact.