CHAPTER XXII

TIGHTENING THE NET

On the squire’s making up his mind to visit Doctor Peters, he elected to do so privately from the park by way of the lane. On his arrival, he found his medical adviser reclining on an old-fashioned couch and looking a most dejected object.

“I am truly sorry to see you down again with gout,” said the squire. “Don’t move, Peters; you must shake off this attack as soon as you can, for I am not feeling at all well myself,” said he, selfishly. “This robbery has greatly upset me. Of course you heard of it?”

“I did, squire, and wish to speak to you of a loss I have myself had.”

“I hope that you have not also fallen a victim to those rascals, doctor?”

“I have, though, and it occurred on the same night that we were all in the park, soon after Falcon and Croft entered your library, when, so far as I can make out by Maria’s evidence, the scoundrels finished up here. At last, squire, I have been convinced that my girl’s statement was only too true.”

“What led to the discovery, Peters?”

“The fact of not having been able to find the key of my skeleton case, though I searched high and low.”

“The same in which Falcon hid himself when Warner paid you a visit?”

“Yes, the identical one, and, worse luck, my cash box was inside. I never gave it a thought when I put the rascal there. Well, the villain’s sharp eyes must have ‘spotted’ it, for it has disappeared. What a plausible devil the fellow is to be sure--so fair spoken, and, egad! even liberal at times. I don’t wonder that he entertained some ideas about aerial flight.”

“You must excuse my laughing, doctor.”

“You may well do so, squire, though to me it is no laughing matter, I can assure you, for I had drawn out of the bank some years’ savings to entrust him with, as you had done with your capital, but I hung fire in letting him have mine for a while; in fact, I had only handed it over a day before the balloonists arrived.”

“What made you do so, Peters?”

“Why, your own great faith in him before the real and unexpected aerial visitors came.”

“But afterwards you believed in him, doctor?”

“I defended Falcon in his absence, but, while doing so, I never supposed that he had robbed you and me too. But, alas, when I could not find the key of my skeleton case, I broke it open and found that I had been plundered, and, without doubt, by those rascals after they had shot at Mr Goodall and entered your library.”

“Well, believe me, you have my sincerest sympathy; but loss it shall never be to you if I can help it. And though we were opposed for a time in our views about this rascal, we are at length of one mind as to making haste to discover Falcon’s hiding-place. I am told that you have given notice yourself to the police of his treachery, so that you are entirely exonerated from the slightest suspicion of collusion in any way with him.”

“Beyond that silly telegram I sent to Sydenham, when I vainly fancied that it would bring him back to you, squire.”

“You clearly mistook your man, doctor, and so did I, and if you had heard all that the aeronauts said in disfavour of Falcon, you would not have been so--”

“Pig-headed--that’s the word, squire. I can see it now, but feel that it is never too late to mend.”

“God bless you, Peters, and speedily restore you; but rouse yourself, old friend, for who knows but what your property and mine may not yet be brought back to us through the brave exertions of Harry Goodall and his friends.”

“I trust they will, and now allow me, squire, to thank you sincerely for this visit; it has eased my mind and will make me better able to bear this attack of gout, if not to cure it.”

“One word at parting, doctor, I have not long heard that Falcon has been seen on board a boulder boat, and a later addition is that he was taken up afterwards by a smack with a view of working round to Folkestone or Boulogne. Lucy has gone off to Newhaven with a letter, and to gather further intelligence.”

“Well, well, I hope he will be caught before long, squire. Good-bye, good-bye.”

Meanwhile, Lucy had reached Lewes in a light trap. Directly she alighted, she made her way to the platform from which the Newhaven train started, and, while descending the steps, she was asked by a gentlemanly-looking person, evidently in a great state of excitement, “If he was in time for the tidal train?”

“Oh, yes, plenty, sir, and to spare,” said Lucy. “It won’t leave for twenty minutes, though I don’t really know if it is the boat train.”

“I am so glad,” said the gentleman, “for I am rather in a dilemma.”

“You are not the only traveller in that state, sir,” replied Lucy.

“No, I expect not. The fact is, I want to be in Newhaven as soon as I can, and I wanted, before doing so, to visit a park near here where a balloon descended some short time since.”

“Do you mean Wedwell Park, sir?”

“Yes, that’s it. How far is it from here?”

“Some distance, sir; you would have to take a conveyance.”

“Then I will go on to Newhaven, but, if I am not taking too great a liberty, might I ask if there is any definite news of a man named Falcon?”

“Oh, yes, sir, I can give you the latest information.”

“You can!” repeated her interrogator, with pleasurable astonishment expressed in every feature in his face. “What a bit of luck my meeting you!”

“Perhaps you are a detective?” said Lucy.

“Well, yes, I am. I will be fair and frank with you. My name is Hawksworth.”

“But, sir, possibly my latest information may be of little use to you.”

“Let me judge of that; the smallest clue sometimes leads to a capture.”

“Well, sir, I have been told that Mr Falcon has been seen on board a boulder boat, and that he was then transferred to a smack bound for Folkestone or Boulogne.”

“Really, your information is of the greatest importance, but you are not ‘kidding’ me, I hope? But no! you look too straightforward to do that. You won’t be offended if I ask your name and address, I hope?”

“Oh, dear, sir, I come from Wedwell Park, and my name is Lucy.”

“It is a pleasure to have made your acquaintance,” replied Hawksworth, gallantly. “Here! I say guard, what time does the train for Hastings go?”

“In about ten minutes, sir.”

“Then I must say good-bye,” said Hawksworth, taking off his hat. “I hope to meet you soon again.”

“Willingly, sir.”

When Lucy had ensconced herself in a railway carriage for Newhaven, she was glad to be alone, for her face was flushed, and she began to have misgivings as to whether she had done the correct thing to tell a stranger what she had heard. At the same time, if the man was a detective--and she had heard Warner speak of such a name as Hawksworth--she had done the right thing at the right time, for she was eager that Falcon should be in custody. Just as Lucy was consoling herself with these thoughts, the guard’s whistle was blown and the train began to move. At the same moment, two men rushed into the carriage at some risk, though they apologised to Lucy, as the sole occupant, for causing her the least alarm. Seeing that the younger limped a little, she replied politely that she was not frightened at all, and trusted he had not hurt himself in getting in; but he assured her his lameness was not due to any such cause, but to a wound he had got when at sea. The stouter man seemed displeased at his companion’s effusiveness and checked him with a frown, while he addressed some observations to him in indifferent English, but Lucy understood him to say,--

“Nevare moind, mate, ve no fight on board de new ship _Panthere_, vhich is no luggare, I can tell you dat.”

The last spokesman looked like a seafaring man, who might be a captain. Presently his companion drew nearer to Lucy, but not offensively, and asked her if she had not been speaking to a gentleman at Lewes.

“I had seen the gentleman for the first time,” said Lucy.

“He go to Hastings, I tink,” said the skipper-looking person.

Lucy at once became very uncommunicative, but the younger man hazarded the remark that he thought the gentleman was in their train.

“Oh, vel, ve vil carry good news now on board,” said the stouter mariner, who took a good pull at his cognac flask and handed the bottle to his mate, who finished what was left.

At the Newhaven town station, these passengers got out, but Lucy went on to the further station, as she had to see the harbour-master, but she noticed that when the men got out, they seemed to speak to a middle-aged female and an elderly old lady, who seemed rather bewildered, and Lucy concluded that they were all going on board the _Panther_, which the sailors had alluded to. Lucy had a good stare at the old lady, as she was so uncommonly like Miss Chain’s mother, but she could not settle that doubtful point by speaking to her, as the train began to move on, so that the girl came to the conclusion that she had been mistaken.

At the harbour-master’s office, Lucy delivered her letter and stated that the squire and Miss Dove were very anxious as to the safety of the aerial voyagers. She was informed that they had not left Cherbourg, as some hitch had delayed them for a day or two. At the same time, said the harbour master, they might return unexpectedly. Lucy was then asked if the Doves were acquainted with a French captain, who was in the habit of visiting Newhaven, and who was supposed to be known to Mr Falcon. Lucy replied that she did not think so.

“I can tell you positively,” said the harbour master, “that the balloonists are safe, but I cannot tell you more at present beyond this, that Falcon is still baffling us all. There was a rumour, as I told the squire, that he had gone to Folkestone or Boulogne, but I now believe that he is secreted somewhere near here. Do you think that the squire or his daughter could come over in case of necessity?”

“I daresay, sir, that Miss Dove and her friend, Miss Chain, might be able to see you, but the squire is not very well, having been much upset by the robbery.”

“In that case you had better not repeat all I have told you, but rather leave my letter to speak for itself. And you will do well to hasten back.”

As Lucy was leaving the office she caught sight, for the second time that day, of a face which seemed familiar to her. But recognition was made difficult by reason of the individual wearing a blue blouse, like a working man from Normandy. However, he apparently had no doubts, for he sprang towards Lucy and held out his hand.

“Don’t you know me, Lucy?” said the foreign-looking man.

“Why, as I live, it is Simon Warner. Well, I am glad to see you, and how are Tom and Mr Goodall? Are they with you?”

“No; I am only over for an hour on most important business. Trigger is all right now, and so is Mr Goodall, but I have not long to stay here, for I am going back to Cherbourg by the next boat.”

“And how are Tom’s wounds? And hasn’t your face been injured, Mr Warner?” asked Lucy.

“Oh, never mind that; and as to Tom, he’s getting on all right.”

At this moment, Warner was summoned into the presence of the station-master, but before he left, he begged Lucy to give his duty to the squire and Miss Edith, while he confided a special message to the cook.

Lucy’s trip had been not an altogether uneventful one. She was particularly mystified by Warner’s being at Newhaven in disguise, yet she presumed there was more going on than was dreamt of in her humble philosophy.