CHAPTER XVII

ALARMING INCIDENTS

Who could blame Simon Warner for being behind his appointed time with the squire, when he had to interview the doctor? Warner found him in a much more amenable spirit; he seemed almost persuaded that he had been victimised, and went so far as to impart some special information to the detective on the condition of silence. Doctor Peters adding that he would himself inform the squire when and how he thought most fitting.

On Warner’s return to the Hall, the squire took him round the library, and gave him a list of what had disappeared, with the numbers of a roll of bank notes. This done, Warner took leave and proceeded on his mission.

Meanwhile Edith and Mr Goodall were strolling together through the park in the direction of the balloon on the excuse of inspecting it, but more probably to enjoy each other’s society.

“Do you think the balloon in any danger should a storm arise?” asked Edith.

“Indeed, I do not,” replied the aeronaut, confidently, “for it is strong and sound.”

“The sky has certainly a darkened aspect,” said Miss Dove.

“It has,” replied the aeronaut; “but there will be time before nightfall to take extra precautions, and I shall personally see to it, as Trigger is away, and I perceive the barometer is falling.”

They found the balloon in such a state of repose that the watchers strolled leisurely around it, but Bennet and his staff of assistants were at hand and promised that, if there was any important change during dinner, he would advise them.

“Then come along,” cried the squire, “for it is for once in a way past our regular time, and all seems so quiet that we had better make the most of our time.”

At dinner there was an artificial show of composure about the little party of four, for their thoughts naturally kept reverting to the robbery, while the strange stillness had by no means a soothing effect on the nerves. Presently there came a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a heavy peal of thunder, then a second larger flame of forked fluid descended with an alarming roll of fearful reverberations among the leaden clouds.

“I must go down,” said the aeronaut, pointing through the windows to a shower of leaves, which had been blown from the trees. “There is a strong wind rising. It’s that I dread, not the lightning.”

Goodall was accompanied by his host to the door, and as a rattling shower of rain was pouring down, the aeronaut was provided with a mackintosh, umbrella and wrap, and away he ran, while the squire ordered a closed trap to be got ready, and soon followed his young friend.

When Harry Goodall reached his balloon, he found that Bennet and his helps had attached extra weights to the net-work, but the silken globe was now greatly agitated and swerving to and fro, presenting a remarkable contrast to the tranquil condition in which he found it before dinner.

“There’s another lively flash,” cried the gamekeeper; “and, my word, how the thunder rolls. It is not improving, and hark at the pattering rain on the top of the balloon! It won’t force open the valve, will it, Mr Goodall?”

“Never fear, Bennet; I always take precautions to prevent that. The only thing I fear is that the iron weights may dash up against the silk and make holes.”

“Steady the weights, my lads,” cried the aeronaut, “as much as possible when she makes those heavy lurches. Hold on all! There, she plunges again, and don’t be alarmed, my men, she is in a sheltered haven--it is the back winds that catch her underneath and cause those ugly flaps on her crown.”

“My dear Goodall!” said the squire, on his arrival, “this frightful wind will soon put an end to your balloon, I fear!”

“Not if we keep on nursing her as we have done, squire.”

“Pick yourselves up, my good fellows!” said the aeronaut to two or three men who were rolled over among the half hundred weights as they swung among their legs and threw them on their faces. “I hope no one is hurt!”

“All right, sir, don’t mind us, we sha’n’t let go!”

“Stick to her, boys! Mind your legs, Bennet, and pray, squire, mind your hands; the cords will cut them if you hold so tight.”

“Never you mind me, Goodall,” cried the squire, “it is all hands to the pumps; I can plainly see that, and every ounce of steadying power is an object.”

The huge silken mass was at this time plunging and swaying like a restive horse, and had lost much of its symmetry; it looked as if it were impossible that it could weather the storm. How it stood such a buffeting amazed Harry Goodall, for the birds at roost were being driven out of some of the trees and sought shelter in distant shrubs, whilst, ever and anon, the topmost branches, in shattered wisps of leafage, came circling down among the men, and lodging for a few seconds on the dome of the balloon, when they would be caught up afresh and whirl about until a heavier gust swept them out of sight.

“Don’t we hear a sound of wheels in the lower road?” asked the squire.

“Yes, I hear Trigger’s voice,” said Mr Goodall. “Run, two or three of you, my lads, and help in the bags.”

“There are three loads of sand in the barn,” said the squire, “and I suppose you will substitute your sand bags for these weights?”

“Yes, squire; I shall at first put the bags between the iron weights, so as to add a couple of tons more power--then, when we get a lull, I will take off the metal.”

“The wind drops, I fancy,” said the squire.

“It does a little, and that will enable some of us to fill the sacks. Bear a hand, Trigger, and go with Bennet into the barn where the sand is, but mind those guns, pistols and ammunition in the balloon car. The gamekeeper thought we should be prepared for a night attack. Show Tom where your air-gun is, Bennet.”

“You don’t expect any worse attack than we’re having, do you sir?” asked Trigger.

“I mean an assault by those rascals, who may be badly disposed towards us. A lot has happened since you have been away. I can tell you about it presently if this lull of the wind holds; however, get your bags filled and hooked on, in case of more fitful gusts,” said the aeronaut, and then, turning to Bennet, he continued,--“The squire has returned to the Hall to order down refreshments and to soothe the anxiety of the ladies.”

“We’ll soon bring the bags, Mr Goodall,” shouted the gamekeeper. “I’ll place the car and the firearms in a snug corner, sir.”

“Do so, but leave the firearms inside, Bennet, though I’ve no fear, in weather like this, that any persons with malicious intentions will hang about the park now after what has happened. They are more likely to be hovering about the coast, either at Newhaven, Folkestone or Dover, so as to clear out of the country.”

“No doubt Warner has his eye on them by this time, sir,” observed the gamekeeper. “However, we’ll get to work, Mr Goodall, now it is a little quieter.”

“Yes, sharp is the word in case of squalls.”

The squire was soon seen to be hurrying down with some of his servants and a truck laden with tea, coffee, cold meat and a lot of creature comforts, with sundry bottles of more stimulating liquids and lighter drinks for the balloonist.

As it was comparatively calm when they came to hand, the squire proposed that, if half the numerous hands could be spared, they should go into the spacious barn close by, and partake of something to eat and drink, the next shift going in when they reappeared.

Acting on this proposal, all hands were fortified for night work, and they were told to run over, a few at a time, to the gasworks and dry their clothes in the retort house.

Bennet asked the squire and Mr Goodall if they would like to go over to his cottage to talk, as Trigger had brought letters from Sydenham and Lewes, which, in the bewilderment of the gale, he had omitted to deliver.

Soon after midnight there was such an improvement in the general outlook, coupled with a steady rise in the barometer, that the attendants were allowed, in divisions, to withdraw into the adjacent lane and smoke their pipes. Shortly after, the squire had a quiet chat with Mr Goodall, and then he proceeded to the Hall. But Harry Goodall returned to the balloon, where he found the gamekeeper awaiting him.

“Now look here, Bennet,” said Mr Goodall, in an undertone, “we don’t want that inquisitive doctor in the way, so I must find a means of getting rid of him, though, to be candid, he is too outspoken and blunt for that sort of thing, but I think it is very likely he has been made a tool and a fool of by that arch-demon Falcon and his crafty confederate.”

“I do believe you’re right, sir, and I only hope that Warner has got them right and tight by this time.”

“They’re likely to double or cut some unexpected capers, I should say, Bennet. Warner mustn’t expect they will go direct into the Dieppe or short sea-route steamers.”

“At that rate, sir, he is as likely to miss them as not.”

“Quite possible, unless he is uncommonly sharp and on the alert. Recollect that we shall have, when daylight breaks in, to fill out with gas the loose folds of the balloon, and get her dry. You run over to the works,” he added, turning to Tom, “and say I shall want as much gas as they can spare to make up for what we’ve lost, as she will soon throw off the wet if she is more fully distended, and afterwards we can get her into the sun’s rays.”

“Please to recollect, Mr Goodall,” said the gamekeeper, “that most of these men, who are agricultural labourers, will have to leave us at six o’clock.”

“I’ll not overlook that, Bennet, and now,” continued the aeronaut turning to Trigger, “won’t you get some rest?”

“Not I, sir; you have most need of rest.”

“That’s just what I think, Mr Goodall,” said the gamekeeper, “and if you go and shake down for an hour or two in my cottage, I will call you if it comes on to blow again, or when Trigger has taken in gas.”

“Say at five o’clock, sir,” said Tom Trigger.

“Good, I will follow your excellent advice, but be sure you do call me by five o’clock.”

“You may rely on that, sir,” said Bennet.

As dawn broke, the scud and the clouds were moving swiftly under the influence of a N.N.W. wind, though it had gone down near the ground, so that Trigger and the workmen were enabled to complete the inflation; but Tom did not attach the car, nor would he move anything out of it, not even the store of provisions nor the firearms, until his master came out of the cottage, so that Bennet determined to rouse him for fresh orders, for it was a lovely morning, and, as the clouds cleared, the power of the sun began to dry the balloon. Meanwhile, the workpeople had some breakfast served out to them by Bennet, who anxiously awaited the appearance of the aeronaut.

When Mr Goodall arrived, he begged Trigger and Bennet with all haste to attach the car to the balloon, but not to remove anything in it until he told them to do so. “And you can fix on my water drag and the other contrivances, Tom; you understand I daresay?” said the aeronaut, who espied the old doctor hobbling in with two sticks and looking like a man with a grievance that he wanted to ventilate.

Tom Trigger obeyed orders, but he knew not what to make of his master’s movements. Something was up, he mumbled to Bennet, which he was not aware of himself.

“However, he may be going to have a flutter. I should not be at all surprised at that,” said Trigger, “though the wind at present does not blow in a very fair quarter.”

“Indeed, no,” replied Bennet, “it is for the coast.”

Harry Goodall at this moment was looking bright and full of action. He replied in a friendly way to the doctor’s greeting, who had seen the top of the balloon much higher than formerly above the trees and wondered whether the aeronaut was going to take flight; but as Mr Goodall regarded his presence just then as an impediment to his movements, he said,--

“The balloon had got so thoroughly drenched during the storm, that she was now about to be dried, and must be so placed, and elevated, if necessary, that she could get the full power of the sun’s rays.”

This last declaration was quite enough for Tom Trigger; it was a tip which he at once understood.

“But how is the head, my dear sir?” asked the doctor.

“It is vastly better, thanks; but I wish I had another box of your soft salve, doctor.”

“I will stump away and fetch some,” cried the doctor. “By the way, Mr Goodall, I had no idea that you were connected with old acquaintances of mine. I want to talk with you--”

“If you are able, get the salve first, please.”

“My dear sir, willingly; I see you are very busy, and will reserve my tale, which will make your hair stand--”

“That will do for the present, doctor. We must soon release these workmen. Excuse my offhandedness just now.”

“Certainly, certainly; I will fetch the salve.”

No sooner had the doctor moved away than he noticed Lucy, who came from the cottage, sidling up to Trigger, when a slight freshening of the morning breeze caused the balloon to roll round in a graceful sweep, which afforded the aeronaut a reason for requesting that Lucy should keep farther away, and allow Trigger to do his bidding.

Harry Goodall then joined Tom, Bennet and one or two others, who were attaching his machinery to the side of the car. Then he took Tom Trigger a little aside, and said,--

“Slip your overcoat and things in the car; mine are already there. You have not, I hope, disturbed anything I placed myself therein.”

“No, sir,” said Tom, “and I begin to tumble now as to what you are after, but I wish I had known earlier.”

“It is quite as well as it is, perhaps,” said Mr Goodall. “I do not want to let the gas out in the park, and you see what a fine chance there is for drying her aloft.”

“Drying her, or trying her, which am I to understand, sir?”

“You know quite enough, my trusty Tom, for the present. We must be off in ten minutes’ time. Never mind saying ‘Good-bye.’ And here, Bennet, request these men not to shout or make the slightest noise, as I am off for a short trip; and you won’t mind trusting your firearms in our care, as the taking them out might create some astonishment. You understand, Bennet?”

“I begin to, sir. But what am I to say to the squire and the ladies?”

“Tell the squire all that took place truthfully. He knows what my intentions are.” Then, turning to Tom, the aeronaut said,--“Is the ballast ample, Tom? Just give me a lift into the car, Bennet.”

“And ease up this rope,” cried Trigger, “when Mr Goodall gives the word.”

“Now, then,” said Mr Goodall, “ease away the rope, Bennet.”

“Throw one bag of sand out, Tom. She will do now. We’re off, Bennet.”

“Please, sir,” cried Lucy, “may I speak to Trigger?”

“The moment he returns, you can, Lucy,” said Mr Goodall, as they rose.

“She mounts beautifully over the trees, Trigger.”

“She does indeed, sir,” said Tom, who, although Lucy was crying, kept his eye in advance of them.

Every workman raised his hat or cap as the balloon ascended, with the most obedient and respectful silence. Looking towards the hall, Mr Goodall saw Squire Dove at his open bedroom window waving both hands, while a voice in the lane was heard to cry out,--

“Stop, my good sir, where the dickens are you going to? I’ve brought the salve.”

“Thanks! Good morning, doctor; I’m due near Newhaven in less than twenty minutes, and could not possibly wait longer.”

“Depend upon it,” cried Lucy, “they’re gone to do something more than dry the balloon. I’ll give it to Tom for not letting me know what they are up to.”

“Tom knows no more than you or I do,” said Bennet. “I can vouch for that.”

Next came the doctor, struggling and limping along on his two sticks, while he flourished one of them in the air at Bennet, in denunciation of Mr Goodall’s sudden flight.

“This must have been a pre-arranged insult,” he said to the gamekeeper. “I had something important to tell him, and my opinions have changed entirely with respect to his affairs. He doesn’t know, perhaps, that I have been robbed?”

“He knows that the squire has, and Mr Goodall may be after the thieves, for all we know,” said the gamekeeper.

“That is just what I am doing, Bennet. Don’t you see my trap in the road? I’m going now to telegraph to Scotland Yard.”

“But for what we know, doctor, the aerial voyagers may be in pursuit of the fugitives?”

“Believe me, Bennet,” cried the converted doctor, “if I thought young Goodall would come across and capture those villains in whom I, too, have been grossly deceived, I would leave him all I have.”

“What a change has come over you, doctor!” exclaimed Mrs Bennet.

“I own to that,” said the doctor, “and I will tell you why and all about it soon, but I must go now and wire, for there is no believing anybody in these days. But see, Bennet, the balloon is fast driving towards Newhaven.”

“Yes, she certainly is,” said the gamekeeper, “and I trust that none of us will tell the young ladies or the squire, for to-day at anyrate, what we have been talking about, as it would be cruel to increase their troubles at a moment like the present.”

After the doctor had bowed assent to this suggestion, he hurried away. The balloon was then travelling coastwards.