Then came the realisation that the monster
was almost consciously disentangling itself for escape, and then the
light leap of its rebound. The rope slipped out of reach of my hand.
I remember running knee-deep in a salt pool in hopeless pursuit of the
airship.
As it dragged and rose seaward, and how only after it had escaped my
uttermost effort to recapture it, did I realise that this was quite the
best thing that could have happened. It drove swiftly over the sandy
dunes, lifting and falling, and was hidden by a clump of windbitten
trees. Then it reappeared much further off, and still receding. It
soared for a time, and sank slowly, and after that I saw it no more. I
suppose it fell into the sea and got wetted with salt water and heavy,
and so became deflated and sank.
It was never found, and there was never a report of anyone seeing it
after it escaped from me.
VI
But if I find it hard to tell the story of our long flight through the
air overseas, at least that dawn in France stands cold and clear and
full. I see again almost as if I saw once more with my bodily eyes
the ridges of sand rising behind ridges of sand, grey and cold and
black-browed, with an insufficient grass.
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