CHAPTER XVIII
WAITING FOR NEWS
When Edith Dove and Miss Chain met on the morning after the storm, the weather had much improved, and they eagerly awaited Goodall’s joining them at the breakfast table, to hear how the balloon had fared during the night. Their surprise was, therefore, very great when the squire came in and announced that they might look for Goodall in vain, at anyrate for the present, as he had ascended soon after sunrise, the atmosphere being so inviting that he preferred to dry his balloon in the sun’s rays instead of retaining it in the wet park.
“And do you think, my dear father, that Mr Goodall would act in that way without any intimation of leaving us so suddenly?” said Edith, with some degree of feeling.
“He left us most affectionate remembrances,” replied the squire, “so Bennet tells me, for I have been down the park and have only this minute returned.”
“Did Mr Goodall go alone, papa?”
“Oh, dear no, Trigger was with him, but he made no mention, that I heard, as to how far he was going, and it was amusing to hear how he gave the doctor the slip. Peters, it appears, came in very early and was prying about, wanting in a more friendly spirit to know this, that and the other, when our friend Harry, in a humorous way, sent him off on a fool’s errand. After breakfast, we may get some news as to where they descended.”
“They will have to make,” said Miss Chain, with evident anxiety, “an exceedingly short trip.”
“I should think so,” said Edith, “considering that the wind blows towards the sea. Surely they would not drop near the Channel.”
The squire, who wanted his breakfast, replied curtly,--
“I daresay they will; but pray, Edith, do not let us enter upon fruitless speculations, as we may hear at any moment that they are perfectly safe.”
“I’m not at all sure that this ascent of Mr Goodall’s was not premeditated,” said Miss Dove, seriously, “for I noticed when Mr Goodall and you, father, left us in the carriage for Lewes, that you both were evidently hatching some mysterious plan, and I passed a most restless night in consequence, but I hope that no wild adventure has taken place.”
“My dear, Edith, if we fail to receive good news before dinner, I will readily grant that I was wrong for not advising Harry Goodall to let out the gas before the storm came on,” replied her father, evasively.
“How I wish it had been,” said Edith, who looked at Miss Chain, with anxiety depicted on her face.
“I knew,” added the squire, “that our brave young friend would sooner--well, I won’t say what. Be patient. It will all be right in the end, depend on it.”
“Now, don’t take a gloomy view of things, dear Edith,” said Miss Chain, “for, even if he were to attempt to cross the Channel, I have heard Mr Goodall say that if ever a balloon was fitted for service of that kind, his new silk balloon was the one. But you are eating nothing, dear.”
“Thanks, but I don’t seem to have any appetite.”
The squire did not choose to explain himself further, although he inferred from Miss Chain’s demeanour that she, to some extent, shared Edith’s fears.
Soon after Doctor Peters arrived, and before he could be stopped, he blurted out that he “had news in more ways than one, and had just had a message from a friend who lived near Newhaven to say that a balloon, reported to have ascended from Wedwell Park, failed to effect a landing near the South Coast, and had been driven out to sea.”
“I, for one,” cried the squire, with great vehemence, “am not in the least alarmed by what you state, Peters, though I do not thank you for offering this intelligence to my daughter instead of to me, as it savours of the pessimism which is your ruling complaint, and I don’t believe a word of it, and can assure you that I have thorough confidence in the aeronaut’s skill and feel assured of his safety.”
“That is all very well, squire, if the balloon has sustained no injury.”
“I insist upon it, Peters, that just now, in my daughter’s presence you keep your croaking tongue within your teeth, and if you in any way further espouse Falcon’s cause, or anyone belonging to him, I shall hold you guilty of being connected with him in some way or other.”
“Hold me guilty, squire! why, I am now quite on another tack, being in possession of fresh information.”
“You may or may not be, but if I thought you had in any way communicated with him since he has proved himself a villain, I would, notwithstanding my position, turn you out of the house!”
“Stop, stop, squire. A threat to commit a breach of the peace from a magistrate--that is too dreadful to think about.”
“Is it? Well, you had better take yourself off with your forebodings of evil. You would raise the blood of a saint.”
“Indeed, squire, I was just going to tell you how I have been myself treated by Falcon.”
But Squire Dove, whose back was up, ignored the remark, regretting, however, when he was cooler, that he had not heard the doctor out. For, as Edith Dove said, “Falcon might have done the doctor some harm; he had certainly something on his mind.”
“If so, Edith, we shall soon hear about it; and one can always feel and express regret for hasty behaviour. If I have done Peters the least injustice, I shall be the first to apologize.”
At length the post arrived, bringing an important letter from Mr William Goodall, Harry’s uncle. It was addressed to the squire, who read it out to the ladies with a view of diverting their minds from the disagreeable impressions which had been produced by the doctor’s ill-timed visit. The letter was as follows:--
“MY DEAR DOVE,--I was much pleased with your account of the sensational version of my nephew’s unpremeditated visit to you, which appeared in a Sussex newspaper.
“I was truly glad to hear that Harry Goodall made a favourable impression on you and your daughter, and that he and his companions had been invited to remain for a time at Wedwell Hall.
“The fact of Harry having made your acquaintance through the medium of his balloon, was indeed a great surprise to me, especially as I had told him that you and Miss Dove would never receive him as a visitor whilst he was addicted to ballooning; and when I heard that it was in that character he won your good opinion, I was delighted though astounded at the news, as it convinced me that ‘Nothing is so certain as the unexpected.’
“And it seems that it was through Harry that you were led to finding out what a designing rascal that man Falcon is, so that I cannot reasonably take my nephew to task for pursuing his favourite pastime, after all is said and done. As I shall be down your way shortly, I will do myself the pleasure of calling at Wedwell Park when we can talk over Falcon’s misdeeds.
“I myself happen to possess a photograph of the lake incident at the Crystal Palace to which you allude. It was through my advice that my nephew suppressed the circulation of it, but I detected the likeness of Falcon in the boat, though I was not sure as to the identity of your daughter being the lady who was rescued by Harry Goodall. I now congratulate Miss Edith and yourself on the event, and I thank you for your polite attention to Captain Link and to his lady friend, whom Miss Dove is so much charmed with. I am expecting to hear of Link’s arrival in Cherbourg, and am glad to say that he stands very high in my estimation, and is the most trustworthy captain in my employ.
“I will not dilate on the good opinions formed of him in Sydney, as the revelations I shall have to make in reference to Falcon, will be connected with the ship _Neptune_ which Link commanded.
“At this moment, I cannot fix the day on which I hope to see you, as it will depend upon the arrival of a steamer with two passengers on board from the Cape. With kind regards to yourself and Miss Dove,--I remain, faithfully yours,
“WILLIAM GOODALL.”
“I think after that letter,” said the squire, “we shall have to await philosophically the full tide of events. In the meantime, I shall be glad to know, Edith, if you have heard anything from Lucy that will throw any more light on the situation.”
“Well, my dear father, Lucy did not think that Trigger knew what was his master’s real aim in ascending. He must have been hurrying on the preparations for what appeared to be a complete voyage of discovery. But she had no hint from Trigger, and the gamekeeper could not fathom what their objects were or their destination.”
“No, I don’t suppose they had,” said the squire.
“But it must have been something, papa, beyond the mere drying process, as they were equipped as if for an aggressive expedition.”
“I do hope, dear,” said Miss Chain, “that you were wrongly informed there. They might have had instruments for observations and meteorological research.”
“Oh, they had very different implements from what you mention, my dear,” said Miss Dove. “There were strange-looking appliances outside the car, and within there were guns, pistols, an air-gun and I don’t know what besides.”
“Let me,” said the squire, “say a word about that part of the story. Bennet explained that he had provided firearms in case any attack was made on the balloon by night, and these weapons were for safety placed in the car; but when Mr Goodall resolved upon baulking the doctor’s curiosity, he would not wait to have the balloon pulled down for that purpose, and I think, under the circumstances, Harry was right to slip cable, for the doctor might have terrified you more by any reference to the firearms than he did by his message that a balloon had been seen going out to sea.”
“Tell me, Miss Chain, were there firearms in the car when you ascended from Sydenham?”
“Oh, dear no, I am quite sure there were not.”
“How now, Lucy?” asked the squire, as the maid entered with a letter.
“It is from the harbour-master at Newhaven, sir. Shall the man wait for an answer?”
“Yes, by all means. This is what he writes,” said the squire:--
“‘I am glad to say that the detective from Sydenham and Wedwell Hall has been on the lookout for the two men wanted. One was seen to go on board a foreign vessel which was lying off the port. He was a little man, but had a bag with him. Have you dispatched a balloon from the park? If so, it is going across the Channel splendidly; it made a temporary halt at Bishopstone. Please reply.’
“Yes, certainly I will, and thank our friend at Newhaven for such very welcome news.”
“Welcome news, papa?”
“Why not, Edith, it is far more reassuring than the doctor’s version. What say you, Miss Chain?”
“It accords with Mr Goodall’s views as to the competency of his balloon.”
“Just so,” cried the squire. “I regard it as a promising instalment of good news, and shall look for better in the morning.” Then turning to Lucy, the squire said,--“Tell the bearer that if he will sit down I’ll speak with him.”
After the squire had gone below, Miss Chain said,--
“I really do sympathise with you, Miss Dove, and cannot understand what Mr Goodall is bent on accomplishing.”
“He is perhaps attempting to cross the Channel with the idea of pursuing the fugitives in France, but to me,” said Miss Dove, hysterically, “it seems fearfully venturesome.”
“Let us hope it will all end well,” said Miss Chain.