CHAPTER XIII

THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT

“Now, Bennet,” said the squire, as they left the hall, “will the balloon lift us?”

“Oh, yes, squire, the pilot says she has plenty of power.”

“That’s all right. I ought to have told you, gentlemen, that we have large works near the park lane which can supply more gas if it is required. How much can we spare, Bennet?”

“About 20,000 feet, squire--that is, on demand, but much more to order.”

“We are surprised to hear this, squire,” said the aeronaut; “at that rate, my balloon could be either refilled here, or fed and retained if need be.”

“Yes, it could. I hope the pilot has been well seen after, Bennet?”

“Oh yes, squire, I have attended to him myself; but we have been a bit annoyed by the doctor, who has been taking on worse than ever.”

“What about? What has he to do with my visitors, who have enlightened me on points of great importance, and who will always meet with a warm reception here?”

“Doctor Peters has been predicting, squire, that the balloon is like a bird of ill omen, and that it means something unpleasant happening.”

“Perhaps he meant it portends that something unpleasant has been found out. However, I must clip the doctor’s wings, and as to ‘birds of ill omen,’ I don’t know whom he can be thinking about. By-the-bye, have you seen anything of Mr Falcon?”

“Not to-day, squire.”

“When was his servant, Croft, last here?”

“Oh, not since Mr Falcon was injured in the back by the Essex poachers, squire.”

A hearty laugh followed this remark, but the aeronaut did not venture a reply until the squire said,--

“What do you think of that, gentlemen?”

“Perhaps the sportsman was on other people’s property,” said Harry Goodall.

“That is a question we will leave for the present,” replied the squire.

“Is Doctor Peters still in the park, Bennet?”

“I believe he has gone to the post-office, squire, about an answer to a telegram he sent to Sydenham when the balloon arrived.”

“Oh, that’s it, is it? Well, the doctor may be on the staff of the _Times_ for what I know; he is a most singular character. One can scarcely take seriously all that he has to say of himself. But you go on in advance, Bennet, and say that we are on our way down.”

“What may be your pilot’s name, pray?” asked Squire Dove.

“Tom Trigger,” replied the aeronaut.

“An expressive name. Is he a good shot?”

“Do you mean at game, squire?” asked the aeronaut, smiling.

“It is not to be supposed that he would fire on a fellow-creature.”

“Yet he has fired at one when greatly exasperated,” said the aeronaut.

“Indeed!” exclaimed the squire, as they rounded a clump of lofty trees in the vicinity of a fish-pond, near to which the gas house was located, close to a lane.

“Now, pilot,” said the aeronaut, “will the balloon lift three, including Squire Dove?”

“She has ample power, sir, for four.”

“My daughter will not be able to join us just yet,” added the squire. “Can the balloon ascend by moonlight?”

“Oh, yes,” replied the aeronaut.

On the strength of these assurances, the squire, Harry Goodall and the captain ascended to the length of a long rope, and had a splendid bird’s-eye view of the park and the surrounding country. Afterwards, at the squire’s request, his neighbour, the Reverend Mr Penfold went up, the squire accompanying him. This induced many others to follow, and after a time some of the household went aloft, conducted by Tom Trigger, Lucy having set them the example, but she had to go back immediately afterwards to Miss Dove, who was soon going down for her moonlight trip; but the squire began to think that it was almost too late to continue the ascents. However, as Miss Dove was seen to be approaching in the carriage, he said,--

“Can you take the captain besides yourself and my daughter?” adding that he would himself see to the working of the windlass.

As soon as they were comfortably seated, the aeronaut said,--

“Let up steadily, please, squire.”

“All right, the pilot and plenty of hands are in attendance.”

The view Miss Dove had of the park and Wedwell Hall by the light of the moon was unexpectedly gratifying, but owing to the lady visitor’s attack of hysteria, Edith was more thoughtful and less appreciative of the silvery-lighted scenery than she otherwise would have been; still, her remarks of delight were heard below, and her friends declared that this was the most striking ascent that had been made, for the people cheered and gave Miss Dove quite an ovation. But just when the pilot and Bennet had commenced to wind down the balloon, a report from a gun was heard, which appeared to have been discharged from a neighbouring plantation--and as the flash was seen just within the borders of the plantation, people hardly knew what to make of the affair, especially as a hat was seen directly afterwards to fall from the balloon.

Bennet, thinking that it was the accidental discharge of a poacher’s gun, rushed up a bye-path leading to the lane, followed by a local policeman and a stranger, who had not long arrived from Lewes, and who was said to be a detective named Warner.

As the balloon came near the ground, something was seen to be wrong, for Miss Dove appeared very excited, and the aeronaut had drawn a scarf over his head; but he asked the squire to help Miss Dove out of the car, when she stepped aside and whispered something to her father. The captain, looking very serious, told Trigger to place some men in the car, as they got out, then he offered to assist the aeronaut to dismount, but the aeronaut said, as if nothing was amiss, that he did not want any help, though the squire and Miss Dove, who had now reappeared, could perceive that blood was flowing down his face.

“Do, papa,” cried the anxious young lady, “insist upon his going up to the Hall with us in the carriage.”

“Yes, take my arm and do so,” said the squire; “and you accompany us, captain.”

Trigger followed them to the door of the carriage, having his master’s hat in his hand, and pointed to a hole in it; but the aeronaut smiled and said,--

“You are really making much ado about nothing; it is a mere graze on the head. Don’t, pray, feel alarmed.”

Miss Dove, despite these assurances, was visibly agitated, nor could she well be otherwise, as a rather copious flow of blood pointed to a wound of some kind.

As soon as the Hall was reached, Lucy was sent for to go and look for Doctor Peters. She came forward, looking very frightened and saying that the cook, Saunders, had met with some injury, for Lucy had not yet seen who was in the carriage, and was going on to explain the cook’s mishap, when the aeronaut, her former master, entered. Seeing that some accident had happened, Lucy ran off at once, followed by the squire, to obtain the doctor’s assistance, whilst the captain, having got some water and a sponge, began to bathe the wound, and was doing his best to stop the bleeding when the doctor was heard to be coming with the squire.

Doctor Peters was astonished to see who was his second patient, and was inclined to break out into a tirade as to the two disasters which had been brought about by the balloon. He said the cook had been knocked down by two fellows, and now what was this affair?

The squire, though he had hardly patience to explain, said,--

“While my daughter was making a captive ascent, someone fired off a gun at this gentleman or at Edith, from the long plantation!”

The doctor, who had not examined the wound with much energy, suggested that it might have been accidental, most likely a stray shot from a poacher’s gun--judging by the partially scalping effects of it.

“Is it at all serious?” asked the squire, impatiently.

“I should say not, squire. The cranium has been struck over the phrenological organ of benevolence. Had it been an inch lower, it might have proved fatal.”

“Then,” said Miss Dove, “it is not dangerous?”

“No, it is of a superficial character, fortunately.”

“It is a pity,” said Miss Dove, as she left the room to go and speak to the invalid lady upstairs, “that you did not say so at once.”

“Exactly. Your misplaced formality, doctor, is perplexing and uncalled for,” said the irritated squire, “and I think that if you had come to the point at once it would have been quite as well.”

“Don’t you worry, squire,” said the patient. “I told you before that nothing very serious had occurred.”

“Then if I go and see to the ladies, you will excuse me for a short time,” said the squire.

“Certainly,” said the aeronaut; “and I shall feel obliged if the captain will go down to the people and give Doctor Peters’s report to all who may inquire after Miss Dove and myself.”

“My dear sir!” exclaimed the doctor, as the captain left, “excuse me, but I noticed that you coupled your name in a very familiar manner with Miss Dove’s. Now, perhaps you are not aware that a gentleman has been assiduously and recently--”

“There, shut up your confounded nonsense, doctor,” cried the aeronaut, with a loud laugh; “I am quite sure that no one who may have been visiting here lately, or who may still be hanging about this neighbourhood, will have any chance with Miss Dove unless his intentions and actions are honourable.”

“My good sir,” cried the doctor, “your wound is causing an inflammatory state of the brain, I am afraid. Do be less wandering if you can, or I cannot undertake to fit you for leaving here, as you no doubt wish to do, in order to attend to your ballooning. If you keep quiet, you can leave with my approval to-morrow; but to do so you must avoid all flights of fancy that may prove exciting.”

Here the patient broke out into another fit of laughter, which brought down Miss Dove, who was delighted to hear any indication of cheerfulness.

“I was simply alluding,” said Doctor Peters, by way of explanation, “to Mr Falcon’s visits here, when this gentleman thought proper to betray feverish, if not slighting, outbursts, which I was not prepared for, Miss Dove.”

“Have you noticed, Doctor Peters,” asked Edith, “that my father has removed Mr Falcon’s portrait?”

“No, I had not, Miss Dove,” said the doctor; “in fact, I have been feeling partially bewildered ever since the balloonists dropped upon us, so you must not be too hard on an old friend.”

After this appeal, Edith left the doctor and his patient alone.

“Did I understand,” asked the doctor, “that you knew Mr Falcon?”

“I have seen him on more occasions than one,” replied the patient. “Hadn’t he been shot in the back, and didn’t he try to wear spectacles, and hasn’t he a rather flighty turn?”

“What can you know of Mr Falcon’s habits beyond mere hearsay?”

“I know more about him than you imagine, doctor!”

“Of his double, perhaps.”

“I am alluding to your Mr Falcon, who wore spectacles on the day that he was shot at in the Essex marshes for attempted incendiarism.”

“Merciful powers! My good sir, what are you dreaming of? He certainly did tell me that he had tried spectacles, but I told him to throw them up.”

“Did he tell you what else he had tried?”

“God bless me, sir, you are getting worse and worse.”

“Have you seen him about here this evening, doctor? I mean since you communicated with him?”

“Goodness me, no! It would be impossible for Mr Falcon to be here.”

“How so? Supposing he left Sydenham Station before five o’clock, couldn’t he have secretly crept into the park before the last ascent of the balloon?”

“My good man!” cried the doctor, “you have got some of the most horrible notions in your head that it is possible to conceive.”

“Would you, doctor, be surprised to learn, as I did before I was shot at, that a policeman from Sydenham is now here watching the proceedings?”

“I must really go and have a private talk with the squire, and send for your friend. Ah! some knocks--come in. Oh! it’s Miss Dove, I see. Will you remain here, Miss Edith, while I speak with your father?”

“Certainly, doctor; you will meet him coming down.”

When Doctor Peters met the squire, he said to him confidentially,--

“It is advisable that the balloonist’s friend, the sailor, should look well after him to-night; and he must take no stimulants, as I fear that his mind is affected.”

“What makes you think so, Peters?”

“Think so? I’m sure of it, squire. He fancies that your friend Falcon is an incendiary and a homicide, besides being flighty.”

“That is no proof that he is deranged; this scientific gentleman is a perfectly sane and far-seeing man.”

“Is he, squire? Then I am wrong in the upper story myself, while you are far gone in balloonacy! But don’t you listen to any cleverly-devised fables without having strong evidence to support them, squire, for I have no doubt that Mr Falcon will reappear to-morrow or next day and upset these people’s statements.”

“He dare not appear face to face with them,” said the squire.

“Don’t you believe that, for it is only the balloonist’s wild notion, which he has got into his head to-night.”

“It is well he didn’t get the bullet into his head! The question now for solution is, who fired either at him or at my daughter?”

“I am surprised, Squire Dove, at your having listened to what these utter strangers have insinuated about an absent man, who is being very likely mistaken for someone else of the same name.”

“You don’t know, doctor, what these strangers have told me and my daughter?”

“No, I do not, but if I had been present when they disparaged Mr Falcon, I should have stood up for him, as I will do until he arrives to defend himself; and as you have always been credited, squire, with not being prejudiced against the accused until you hear what he has to say, I hope you will not be hasty in believing all you hear.”

“When we get strong confirmation--proof after proof against Falcon, I suppose you will give in then, doctor?”

“Oh, yes, squire, I will undertake to eat my own words if you can convince me that I am wrong, for I look upon this episode in ballooning as a farcical affair!”

“That will do, doctor, please, for it may sooner than you expect present a much more serious aspect! Of course, you will give your patients a look in the morning?”

“Most certainly. I have well dressed the balloonist’s head.”

“Don’t fear, doctor, that he will turn out ungrateful, for if one-half of what I hear is true, he may return the compliment before long by giving you a dressing.”

“I am sorry to see you influenced, squire, by such absurd trash. Don’t believe a word of it. _Au revoir._”

When the squire hastened down the park to see if the man who had discharged the gun had been seen, he found that the local policeman and Bennet had not yet returned from their chase after the two men from the back part of Wedwell Hall, who had been seen to run away in a northerly direction, where they might have met and injured the cook.

Just before the aeronaut had gone aloft for the last trip, Warner had suddenly appeared on the scene, though not expected, but he had not sufficient time to tell Mr Goodall the object of his visit. Thinking it, therefore, just possible that he might not see the aeronaut again for some little time to describe what brought him down to Wedwell Park, he went into the gamekeeper’s cottage and wrote down on a slip of paper a memorandum of particulars and left the same for early delivery to Mr Goodall.

The captain brought it up to the Hall, accompanied by the squire, after they had seen that the pilot, together with a good staff of workmen had been told off to look after the balloon during the night.

The squire, who had inadvertently or purposely left the young people alone, anxiously asked if the patient was worse?

“No, I am altogether better, squire,” said the aeronaut, and glancing at the letter which the captain handed him, he gave it back, asking him to read it out to them.

Warner’s reason for going to Wedwell Park:--

“After you ascended, sir, to-day, I tried to find Falcon and Croft at Sydenham with the aid of the London detective, Hawksworth, but the roundabout way he went to work in search of a clue so upset me that I left him and proceeded in my own humble way to act alone.

“Just as I was going to my lodgings, near the Lower Sydenham Station, I met a railway clerk I know coming that way, and I asked him if he had seen anything of two men, one tall and dark, the other short and sly looking, as they were wanted.

“‘If you step into the booking department,’ he said, ‘you will find them consulting the time tables about a Sussex train; they are going on by the next train to Croydon, where they will change for Lewes. Shall I go in and get you a ticket, and arrange that you slip into the guard’s van, Mr Warner?’

“‘Please do, and send on word to our inspector to say where I am going, as it is on important business,’ I said, at the same time explaining a little to him about the balloon ascent and the men’s recent conduct.

“‘But,’ said he, ‘do you know, Mr Warner, where the balloon came down?’

“‘No I don’t,’ I replied.

“‘It dropped in Wedwell Park, not so very far from Lewes, strange to say? We have had a message up to that effect, and that is what these men are going there about in all probability,’ said he.

“‘Did they reply to the telegram?’ I asked.

“‘No, but they have been away since and disguised themselves; but I could see they were the same parties and thought they were card-sharpers. If you look sharp, you will have time to slip into your lodgings and put on other clothes,’ said he.

“‘All right, and I’ll tread close on their heels, and very glad I am to get a good clue without beating about the bush,’ I said to the railway clerk.

“This correct information, sir, enabled me to follow them here without their knowing it. Falcon and Croft took a trap over, and I came in a fly--but I warn you that they may be here bent on mischief. I sent an earlier warning to Miss Dove not to go out without protection.

“S. W.”

“Oh, if this is from S. W., then the first was from him too,” said the squire. “How very clever and sharp, to be sure. I wish we had such men down here.”

“Warner is a born genius in his line, squire.”

“I believe he is, and who was the London detective?”

“Oh, that was the opinionated man who wanted to arrest my friend the captain--his name is Hawksworth.”

“You told us about him at dinner, captain,” said Miss Dove.

“Marvellous!” exclaimed the squire; “but it is getting late, Edith. I hope the lady has recovered.”

“I hear Lucy just coming, papa.”

“The lady is fast asleep, miss, and is better,” said Lucy in reply to her mistress’s question.

“Then let us all follow her example,” said the squire, showing his guests to their rooms.