CHAPTER VII

FINANCE AND FINESSE

As may have been gathered, Mr Falcon’s actions in first watching the movements of Harry Goodall and of Miss Chain at the Crystal Palace, and then of going to Wedwell to see Doctor Peters, were not so much actuated by a desire to give the former a distaste for ballooning, as to keep them away from Wedwell Hall, where the financier had been manœuvring to entrap Squire Dove, and at the same time to lay siege to the affections of his daughter. This kind of premeditated conduct was not in accordance with the terms of Mr Falcon’s mission, undertaken by him before he left Sydney--quite the reverse, indeed.

And whether the financier was irritated by the rising popularity of the amateur aeronaut at the Crystal Palace, and retaliated by advancing himself where Harry Goodall declined to step in, or whether Falcon was prompted by a preconceived idea of trying to get a large slice of the squire’s capital and entire possession of his daughter, the reader will be fully competent to judge.

If it be assumed that the financier set out on his enterprise with the idea of _not_ bringing Henry Goodall’s son and Miss Dove together, but rather of stepping in himself to seek the fair lady’s hand and fortune, then, indeed, Mr Falcon’s eccentric conduct at the Crystal Palace and on the Essex marshes, is explained.

It would seem that at first Mr William Goodall was inclined to believe in him, while he gave such a pathetic account of the death of his brother Henry; but when that was ended, his flippant and ironical remarks caused the merchant to mistrust him. Squire Dove, on the other hand, was attracted by Mr Falcon’s monetary proposals, which were sufficiently business-like to be accepted; but it is needless to enter into details concerning them, as they may be supposed to have been ostensibly sound, otherwise the squire would not have caught at them so readily as he did by advancing a large sum in cash, and also by not declining the financier’s overtures with respect to Miss Dove, for after Mr Falcon’s successful start as regards his money scheme, he came to the conclusion that his amatory advances would be accepted both by father and daughter; he forgot, however, all about his cowardly conduct at the lake; but Miss Dove did not, and the squire told Mr Falcon candidly that his daughter was quite capable of exercising her own judgment with respect to matrimonial affairs, so that he must plead his own cause. The financier took the hint and used every means in his power to win Miss Dove’s favour.

One day, when the squire and Doctor Peters, the village doctor, were fishing, Mr Falcon, who was walking towards the pond with Miss Dove, said,--

“Whenever I look at those punts on the water I am reminded of that rash youth on the Crystal Palace lake who had the impudence to get into the water to help to raise you into the boat. I was most annoyed, Miss Dove, at his stupid officiousness. As far as I could make out, he was a performer--a Palace actor or something of that kind.”

“I feel sure,” said Miss Dove, looking very straight at Mr Falcon, “that he was a clever performer; but I was told at the Thicket Hotel that he was a scientific man and a successful one, too,” she added. “I certainly was vastly absorbed in his experiment.”

“Indeed! I may have been misinformed, but I quite understood that he was not a regular Palace balloonist, but a mere experimentalist. Would you like to know more about him, Miss Edith?” continued the financier.

“Don’t you think, Mr Falcon, that I could very easily do so, if I were so inclined?”

“No doubt, Miss Dove; but I hope and believe that you would prefer my acquaintanceship to his?”

“How very strangely you are talking this morning. I have no idea who or what that gentleman is, Mr Falcon, but I do hope to see him once more, so pray let us join my father and the doctor--and I beg you will not talk in this strain again.”

“Ah! Miss Dove, I shall venture to speak more plainly soon, in the hope that you will listen to me, for I--”

“Papa, dear,” cried Edith, as they drew near to the fishing party, who were resting whilst the gamekeeper arranged some fishing rods.

After this decisive check to the financier’s love-making, he strolled away and tried to enjoy a cigarette on the bank of the pond, while Edith joined her father and the doctor; and very glad she was of this opportunity of stopping the financier’s ungracious and distasteful proposal.

Presumably Mr Falcon’s great object was to get accepted as quickly as possible, lest some unforeseen circumstances should arise which might upset his schemes, such as a sudden change of mind and occupation on the part of Harry Goodall. Mr Falcon was, however, secretly prepared with another plan to prevent Goodall from visiting the Doves, and he intended to try it if he thought it probable that the aeronaut would give up ballooning as a step to an introduction to Wedwell Park. And the estate was worth fighting for--it was 300 acres in extent, well wooded, and with a grand old mansion in the centre, surrounded by ornamental gardens. Away towards the sea there was a good view of the South Downs--altogether it was a charming spot.

But Edith Dove was not so easily won. She studiously declined Mr Falcon’s attentions, although he was not a man to be easily repulsed, for he knew that in his case there was no time to be lost.

Mr Falcon had thus far managed to keep the name of Harry Goodall in the background, and, strange to say, Edith had never been known to fall in love, although her father and she had many friends, including county families and distinguished personages; but they neither of them cared much for entertaining mere fashionable callers, although given particularly to hospitality when men of science or women of celebrity and worth were concerned, even if they had risen from the more humble ranks of life.

The financier, though not a general favourite at Wedwell, found a warm supporter in Doctor Peters, who was the family medical attendant, and was thought by some to have been a former friend of Falcon’s, or a relative. But the doctor, who took instinctively to the financier was a crotchety, inquisitive old man, and wanted to find out where Falcon was born, and to dive into family matters, which he didn’t care to explain. Another reason why the doctor liked him was because, whilst in Sydney, he had helped and got into a good situation a scapegrace connection of the doctor’s.

Although the doctor and Squire Dove were so partial to fishing, the financier did not care much for it, as he was no sportsman. Indeed, he had admitted to the doctor that he was certainly not enamoured of shooting, as he had been shot himself very recently, by a rascally fellow who fired at him down in Essex.

Mr Falcon’s visit that day, to which we are alluding, was not only to pursue his attentions to Miss Dove, but also to privately consult his new friend the doctor, who could give him advice professionally, and might also expedite, if asked to do so, not only a forthcoming monetary transaction with the squire, but the doctor might advise him about introducing to the notice of the Doves his ideas relative to a flying machine.

When that great financial affair was satisfactorily concluded, Doctor Peters was a witness to the squire’s payment of cash, and to the signature of both to a deed, after which Mr Falcon went home with the doctor, as he wished to have a confidential chat with him.

At the outset of what was mutually considered a consultation, the financier briefly explained that he had been injured in the lumbar regions, which affected, as he thought, his spinal cord.

On examination, Doctor Peters, who played his part admirably so far as humouring the caprices of his patient went, found that the wound or bruise was not quite so dangerous as it appeared to be in his patient’s eyes, though it was not at all improbable, unless great care was exercised, that a touch of paralysis might supervene.

“But do tell me,” said the doctor, “how it happened.”

“I was strolling about on a marsh not far from Tilbury, awaiting the arrival of a vessel when she passed up the Thames. Just about the same time another and a lighter craft from a different part and a higher latitude,” he explained, enigmatically, “hove in sight. Then two men were landed, who looked like poachers--one was certainly a very reckless knight of the trigger, as he fired off a volley of charges in the direction I was taking. I then felt a thud in the back, like the kick of a horse, doctor.”

“Dear me! Very alarming, no doubt, Mr Falcon. I should say very likely your injury was caused by a spent shot, judging from appearances,” said the doctor, as he further examined the bruise. “Can you raise and bend both legs with perfect ease?”

“No--not--exactly.”

“Ah! I should say it was probably a bullet from a bull-dog pistol that overtook you, and I have no hesitation in saying that no mere dust shot would have produced such a concussion.”

“And yet, doctor, I escaped the rascal and managed to reach a station and to catch a train.”

“What a lucky escape to be sure!”

“It was; but I felt I was hit near the spine, and in the leg as well, for I began to limp as I do now.”

“Ay, we must get rid of that. Now, I’ll tell you what you must do. I shall provide you with ointment, pills, draught and what not, besides a little pick-me-up restorative, and then you must go to your hotel for a few days and rest, and you must get that smart, little valet of yours to rub your back and to look well after you.”

“But I can’t do that, for unfortunately Eben Croft is down himself and cannot get out. He is positively pining for my assistance. However, you must be good enough to accept this bank-note for your advice and these ample remedies. Now I wish to speak to you on another subject, and that, of course, will require another refresher in the way of a fee,” said Falcon, who evidently meant to ingratiate himself with Doctor Peters, and then turn him to account respecting more points than one.

“No, no,” cried the doctor, rejecting the further fee, “enough is as good as a feast.”

“You must oblige, doctor, for I feel that you are my best friend in these parts, and that you will advance my suit and prospects here as much as you can.”

“Pray say no more, Mr Falcon. After this assurance you may implicitly rely upon my giving you not only medical but friendly advice. In short, I feel myself, by some extraordinary fascinating power on your part, to be drawn to you, and I cannot forget that you did my relative a good turn in Sydney, and I shall consider it a duty to espouse your cause here, as long as I find it to be, as I do now, straight and honourable. But do tell me how goes it with Miss Edith? She is one of the purest and most unsophisticated creatures in the world, and you know her pecuniary value, I daresay,” said the doctor, with a chuckle.

“Yes, yes, I am pretty well versed on that point, for our lamented friend, Henry Goodall of Sydney, whom you have seen and talked to, I believe, acquainted me with everything concerning the Doves before I undertook to--”

“Before you undertook to court and carry off Miss Dove,” interrupted the doctor.

“I did not imply as much as that, doctor, for there was no understanding between us of that kind I assure you. However, you may assume that love has cropped up, on my side at anyrate, ever since my arrival.”

“I can very well understand your feelings, Mr Falcon.”

“Scarcely, I think--for mine have been an unthought of outburst of admiration, and I may say, of affection, for Miss Dove--which--”

“My dear sir, is it worth while to analyse all our secret springs of action, as you and I seem to grasp them by a sort of intuition, which is common to both of us, I should say?”

“Good, and altogether far-seeing of you, doctor! And I quite agree with you, but still I am not carrying the position in such a dashing style as I expected. Of course, you know that the squire, so far as he is concerned, approves of my open and honourable conduct?”

“He could not fail to do that, Mr Falcon; but why are you rubbing your eyes so vigorously?”

“Eh! was I? I am not piping my eye for fear of failure, if that is what you are inferring, doctor. The fact is my sight has been unduly tried lately. I took to spectacles for a short spell.”

“More’s the pity. Just let me look into your eyes, Mr Falcon.”

“Do, doctor.”

“Your eyes are as sound as your heart, my dear sir.”

“Nothing wrong there, you think?”

“Not that I can detect at present; but mind that you never let Edith Dove see you with blinkers on.”

“Leave me alone for that. Those I wore on trial proved dangerous.”

“Really--you are a young man and ought not to have tried them.”

“A young man, eh? I was just thinking of my young man Croft, and that I must be going; but stay--I think I heard a rap at your front door.”

“Perhaps so, I’ll inquire. Now Maria, what is it?” asked the doctor of a neat little servant.

“If you please, sir, the gentleman is wanted.”

“I really cannot stay to see anyone,” said Mr Falcon.

“What name was given, Maria?” asked the doctor.

“Warner, sir.”

“I’ve heard that name,” said Mr Falcon, who motioned to his friend to shut the door--“but perhaps you would kindly see him for me, doctor?”

“Look here, Maria,” said the doctor in a more subdued tone, “was my patient asked for?”

“No, sir; the man only said he called respecting Eben Croft.”

“Confound him!” muttered Falcon. “I am not angry with you, Maria,” he said, turning to the girl, who looked rather scared; “here is half-a-crown for you. I am annoyed by the intrusion just as I was in conversation with your master.”

“I didn’t say who was upstairs, sir.”

“Quite right, Maria,” said the doctor. “Suppose you keep Mr Warner waiting for a few minutes, and then show him up.”

“Very good, sir,” said Maria.

“And where am I to disappear to, doctor?” anxiously asked his patient.

“Step into my skeleton case, Mr Falcon, if you are not too squeamish. It’s quite empty, as the tenant’s bones were removed last week for fresh articulation; they were dropping all to pieces.”

“All right! Here’s in, anyhow, and if I scratch my finger-nail gently on the inside of the door, you will know that you are saying what I don’t like; but as long as I keep quiet you can go ahead, doctor; you understand?”

“Thoroughly. I have unlimited discretionary power unless you scratch with your finger-nail.”

Doctor Peters having almost closed the door of case, and hearing footsteps, cried out,--

“Come in, Mr Warner, I am at your service.”

“I must ask your pardon for intruding, doctor. I was directed to your house, but I’m afraid it is a wild-goose chase, as I merely want to see a gentleman I fancy I have met before; but as he seems to have disappeared, I suppose I must tell you that a young man named Eben, or Ebenezer Croft, has referred me to his master, who was said to be on a visit at Wedwell Park. This man Croft has got into trouble, sir, and will have to go before a magistrate.”

“What for, pray?”

“For trespassing on the company’s private premises at the Crystal Palace, sir.”

“What a paltry charge, Mr Warner! I may possibly mention the case to Squire Dove, who is a Justice of the Peace, and acquainted, I know, with some of the most influential directors and shareholders of the palace. The squire will no doubt see that the case is thoroughly looked into, even if it comes to an exposure in the _Times_. Yes, sir,” continued the doctor, “this farcical seizure of poor little Croft, who is a gentleman’s servant, will no doubt make a great stir and keep people from visiting the palace, lest they step accidently from public to private rooms, which most likely join each other.”

“Something more will come out about the premises that have been entered,” said Warner, “as they belong to a scientific gentleman, whose friends are, I believe, acquainted with Squire Dove.” (A loudish scratch).

“May be, Mr Warner; Croft has only committed a pardonable mistake--but if bail is required it will be forthcoming.” (A whisper from the case, “Shut up!”)

“The truth is, Doctor Peters, that Croft is locked up, and he fears that his master is in the same predicament.”

“My good man, what nonsense!” cried the doctor.

“Nonsense you may think it. However, I am merely doing my duty in making inquiries; but don’t you suppose that I am a fool, sir.”

“You are far from that, I’m sure; but allow me, Warner, to present you with this,” replied the doctor, putting his finger and thumb into his waistcoat pocket.

“No, thank you, sir; I am neither to be bought, sold nor humbugged, and I’ll wish you good-day;” and the man took up his hat and departed angrily.

Whilst Warner was walking away down a bye lane, he met a good-natured looking young person, whose face seemed familiar to him.

“What, Lucy!” he exclaimed; “is that you, miss? How pleased I am to see you.”

“Yes, Lucy is my name, it’s true; but surely I have seen you at the Crystal Palace?”

“Certainly you have--at Mr Goodall’s workroom, when I was chatting with Tom Trigger after Miss Chain had been frightened by that spy who is not so very far off, unless I’m much mistaken, Miss Lucy.”

“Oh, do come into the gamekeeper’s cottage with me; I am going to see Bennet.”

“Ay, come in and welcome,” said the gamekeeper, who was standing at his garden gate. “Did I hear you say that you know Tom Trigger?”

“Yes, I know Tom, and like him very much.”

“So do I,” replied the gamekeeper, “and I found him a good shot, too, when he came down with Lucy.”

“Nothing amiss with Tom?” asked Lucy, earnestly.

“Oh dear no, and never will be, my dear,” said Warner. “Don’t you fear. It is that little audacious chap Croft I came about.”

“Are you going back by the next or the last train?” asked Bennet.

“By the next; I must if possible,” replied Warner.

“Then make haste, missus,” said Bennet, turning to his wife, “and get us a cup of tea. I’m going over to the station and will give you a lift,” he said to Warner, “and we can go on with our chat on the road.”

The snug little tea-party had barely sat down when Mrs Bennet heard a knock at the door, and then in came Saunders, the cook, from the house, who had been sent down by Miss Dove with her customary basket of odds and ends, but she did not know that Lucy and a stranger were there.

When Saunders was introduced to Warner, she exclaimed,--

“Bless me, I ought to know that name; and now I look at you-- But don’t you know me, Simon?”

“Why, goodness me! it’s surely never Miss Saunders?”

“The same, sir, as I was when I knew you in Sydenham. You thought at that time of entering the force.”

“Yes; and so I did. How glad I am to see you again.”

After some further chatting over old times, Saunders remembered the dinner she had to cook, and rose to leave.

“It’s about time we were moving too,” said Bennet to Warner, “that is, if you must catch the next train.”

“Yes, I really must,” said Warner, getting up and shaking hands with them all and saying that he hoped to pay them another visit some day.

“Give my love to Tom,” cried Lucy to Warner, as he jumped up beside Bennet in the cart, “and tell him to try and come and see me soon again,” she added, as they disappeared down the lane.