He steered the machine round without taking the way off her, and
swooped down towards the city. At the end of the swoop he was already
over the suburbs, and he switched off the electric lamps. He took the
way off the machine by switching up the planes; and then, using only
the propeller, circled round, seeking for the Eiffel Tower. Presently
he saw it looming through the first dim grey light of the dawn, steered
over it, let fall a grapnel, and hooked it into the railings which ran
round it; took a turn of the rope round the windlass, and wound the
machine down to within twenty feet of the top. Then he went to the
financier, unroped him, and kicked him in the ribs ungently.
As he kicked, saying, "Get up! Get up!" an astonished voice below
cried, "Qui vive?"
Looking over the side of the car Tinker saw dimly the figure of a
gendarme, and said briskly, "Santos-Dumont!"
"Vive Santos-Dumont!" cried the gendarme with enthusiasm.
Tinker went back to the financier, and kicked him again.
"Where am I? Where am I?" he murmured faintly.
"On the top of the Eiffel Tower," said Tinker.
"What? Saved! Saved!" cried the financier, for all the world as
though he had been in a melodrama; and he sat up.
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