"Faith, they'll be after us, all right--a devil of a long way after!" To this the Master gave no answer, but signaled Auchincloss in the engine-room for full speed.

Now a subtle tremor possessed the vast fabric, mistress of the upper spaces and the night.

The close-compacted lights beneath commenced to sprinkle out into tenuous dots.

The tiny blazing fringe of Coney burned a moment very far below, then slid away, under the glass flooring.

Still heading sharply upward, with altimeter needle steadily mounting, with the cold becoming ever greater, the liner flung herself out boldly over the jet plain of ocean.
Right into the eye of heaven she seemed to point, into a vast and profound blackness, that, as the Master snicked off the no-longer needed searchlight, unleashed myriad stars--stars which leaped out of the velvet night.