His long, white hands still gripped his useless apparatus.

The archbishop followed his skyward stare with an apprehension

unbecoming in an archbishop.



Then came the crash and the shouts and uproar from the road

to relieve Filmer's tension. "My God!" he whispered, and sat down.



Every one else almost was staring to see where the machine had

vanished, or rushing into the house.



The making of the big machine progressed all the more rapidly

for this. Over its making presided Filmer, always a little slow

and very careful in his manner, always with a growing preoccupation

in his mind. His care over the strength and soundness of the apparatus

was prodigious. The slightest doubt, and he delayed everything

until the doubtful part could be replaced. Wilkinson, his senior

assistant, fumed at some of these delays, which, he insisted, were

for the most part unnecessary. Banghurst magnified the patient

certitude of Filmer in the New Paper, and reviled it bitterly

to his wife, and MacAndrew, the second assistant, approved Filmer's

wisdom. "We're not wanting a fiasco, man," said MacAndrew. "He's

perfectly well advised."



And whenever an opportunity arose Filmer would expound to Wilkinson

and MacAndrew just exactly how every part of the flying machine

was to be controlled and worked, so that in effect they would be

just as capable, and even more capable, when at last the time came,

of guiding it through the skies.



Now I should imagine that if Filmer had seen fit at this stage

to define just what he was feeling, and to take a definite line

in the matter of his ascent, he might have escaped that painful

ordeal quite easily. If he had had it clearly in his mind he could

have done endless things. He would surely have found no difficulty

with a specialist to demonstrate a weak heart, or something gastric

or pulmonary, to stand in his way--that is the line I am astonished

he did not take,--or he might, had he been man enough, have

declared simply and finally that he did not intend to do the thing.

But the fact is, though the dread was hugely present in his mind,

the thing was by no means sharp and clear. I fancy that all through

this period he kept telling himself that when the occasion came

he would find himself equal to it. He was like a man just gripped

by a great illness, who says he feels a little out of sorts, and expects

to be better presently. Meanwhile he delayed the completion of

the machine, and let the assumption that he was going to fly it

take root and flourish exceedingly about him. He even accepted

anticipatory compliments on his courage. And, barring this secret

squeamishness, there can be no doubt he found all the praise and

distinction and fuss he got a delightful and even intoxicating draught.





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