It was three
o'clock. The sound of the waves was heard with violence; they almost
touched the surface of the sea.
"' We are lost!' exclaimed Zambecarri, seizing a bag of ballast.
"' Help!' cried Andreoli.
"The car touched the water, and the waves covered them breast high. To
the sea with instruments, garments, money! The aeronauts stripped
entirely. The lightened balloon rose with frightful rapidity. Zambecarri
was seized with violent vomiting. Grossetti bled freely. The unhappy men
could not speak; their respiration was short. They were seized with
cold, and in a moment covered with a coat of ice. The moon appeared to
them red as blood. After having traversed these high regions during half
an hour, the machine again fell into the sea. It was four o'clock in the
morning: the bodies of the wretched aeronauts were half in the water,
and the balloon, acting as a sail, dragged them about during several
hours. At daybreak, they found themselves opposite Pesaro, five miles
from the shore; they were about to land, when a sudden flaw of wind
drove them back to the open sea. They were lost! The affrighted barks
fled at their approach. Fortunately, a more intelligent navigator hailed
them, took them on board; and they landed at Ferrara. That was
frightful! Zambecarri was a brave man. Scarcely recovered from his
sufferings, he recommenced his ascensions.
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