CHAPTER IX

A FLIGHTY FIASCO

After following the advice of Doctor Peters by liberating Eben Croft, Mr Falcon determined that he would forthwith turn him to another useful account, as the financier had decided to test Scudder’s scheme if the Pocket Hercules would assist him to do so,--though, in consideration of the objections raised by his adviser Peters, Mr Falcon thought it would be quite as well if he abstained himself from going aloft, should Croft agree to do so and assume the Dutchman’s name.

An immediate proposal was therefore made to Professor Scudder, who soon replied favourably from Rotterdam, in fact he consented to sell his stolen manuscript and invention for the round sum down of one hundred pounds sterling, and these terms, having been arranged, Eben Croft was duly informed that there was one more chance open to him if he really wished to hand down his name to posterity, after which he could see about settling in his promised “pub” near Wedwell Park, but not until his master had united himself in the bonds of matrimony to the squire’s daughter.

Eben having agreed, Falcon promised to remunerate him handsomely if he would assume the _rôle_ of Scudder and make the first trial of the flying machine (of course in disguise, so that no one would know him). As to Mr Falcon, he would pose as a distinguished Dutch director, and would arrange everything at some quiet place where the experiment could come off under the strictest privacy; but the chosen spot would not have to be very far from Wedwell Park in case the wind happened to waft the aerial cruiser that way,--in which case Mr Falcon might like himself to make the flight personally,--but that would not interfere with the stipulated payment to Eben Croft. The entire apparatus, including Scudder’s giant cross-bow, was very soon the property of the flying financier, but, unfortunately, there was a debt on it of fifty ducats,--which had to be cleared off before the contrivance was despatched from Rotterdam.

A suitable place at Haywards Heath was at length hired by the financier, and the flying machine, with cross-bow, appurtenances and propellers, were to be sent by goods train to the Sussex Station, where, in expectation of their arrival, Mr Falcon and Eben Croft duly presented themselves in costume that would defy detection.

A number of workmen, under the superintendence of a master carpenter, had been engaged at the quiet retreat selected, which, by the way, was not far from the lunatic asylum in the neighbourhood of Haywards Heath, when Croft, in a semi-clerical attire, assisted his master to make the preliminary arrangements;--then Eben said,--

“Where shall I find the tackle, sir?”

“At the Haywards Heath Goods Station, Eben.”

“Is it to be a public or private affair?”

“As secret and secluded as possible. Not a soul must know who or what I am aiming at, Croft, for this flying machine is to go into Wedwell Park if you can so manage it, and if I were certain about its doing so I might occupy the seat of honour myself.”

“Where is Wedwell, sir, from our present standpoint?”

“Yonder; but keep everything dark, Eben. We must say as little as we can, and that in broken English, with a strong Dutch accent. Do you understand?”

“Yah, yah, mynheer; but some of your helps are coming. I had better get to work directly the boss gets here with the traps.”

“You have seen, Eben, all Scudder’s sketches and know the plan of the invention. Say as little as need be, and make the most of the time present.”

“Yes, for it would never do, sir, for Jack Hawksworth or Simon Warner to catch us at this job.”

“No, Eben, nor for Doctor Peters or the squire to cast eyes upon us.”

“They wouldn’t know us, I’m thinking, Mr F.”

“The doctor might recognise and denounce the contrivance. That is why I have drawn you aside to speak in confidence, and to say, ‘Hurry on; get the job over and let us clear out with all speed.’”

Before the experimentalists had taken up their position in the small grounds which had been hired for the occasion, Mr Falcon had given out that two foreigners were about to try a new projectile, and as an explosive machine would be employed, no spectators would be admitted near the apparatus nor inside the premises on any pretext whatsoever; neither would admittance to the enclosed retreat be allowed even on payment of gate money.

But no sooner had the proceedings got fairly forward and the large steel bow and stock appeared in the distance, than the outsiders conjectured that the foreign visitors were certainly about to try the working of a new sort of guillotine for the beheading of anarchists and other criminals. The ominous sounds that had been heard by carpenters and the workmen encouraged this conclusion, and when the twisted wire of the bow was strained tight behind the air-craft, and it was made to perform a preliminary move up and down the two grooves in the bow-stock, then many persons broke into the grounds, much to the annoyance of the tall, distinguished-looking Dutchman who was at work conjointly with a London firework manufacturer, both of whom were in the act of charging a double-barrelled explosive machine--this was intended to act as an additional motor power to the professor’s aerial cruise after the first spring into the air, produced by the cross-bow, had ceased to act.

Eben Croft, who was supposed by all present, with the exception of his principal, Mr Falcon, to be the redoubtable Scudder, was well to the fore, and had fearlessly mounted the seat of the air-ship, when he was asked by one of the local magnates if he required any assistance.

Thereupon, the supposed Scudder, who seemed reluctant to air his Dutch or broken English, pointed towards his chief and tried to catch his attention, but the crowd had so surrounded Mr Falcon, that the attentive interrogator asked if the professor was wanting the Dutch gentleman with the long black beard.

“Yah, yah, mynheer,” replied Eben. “Vil you tell de herr dat I vant mine propellers?”

“Come on, Herr What’s-your-name,” cried the master carpenter to Falcon, not knowing his name--when suddenly and unexpectedly a terrific explosion took place, which hurled Mr Falcon, the firework maker and others into an adjacent pond, into which the burly Dutchman went head foremost and lost his big beard and curly locks; in fact his hairy adornments were floating on the water, and had he been the sole sufferer there would have been a scene of laughter as well as of commotion, but several townsmen and strangers were injured besides the dark, stout fellow (Falcon), who, on being dragged on to land, seemed strangely transmogrified until some kind friend re-adjusted him, when he appeared to have lost his head, for he sung out to the professor in clear English,--

“For Heaven’s sake, Eben, get your power and start at once. Your wings are attached, and you’ve an open country before you. Make a short spin at all risks.”

“Pull that trigger, master carpenter,” cried the supposed Scudder, in downright, plain, unbroken English.

The carpenter and all the people within earshot were bewildered, and thought they were going to be hoaxed, but up rushed the wild, half-crazy Falcon and pulled furiously at the line, when away went Scudder like a bolt out of a forty-pounder, his hat and coat-tails flying behind him; but he had the presence of mind to let loose, by touching a lever, his wings, which flew open in time to give him a check just as he turned downwards, for all the world as if he were making for the lunatic asylum.

“He’ll pitch into yonder trees, mark my word if he doesn’t,” cried Falcon, as if that curve was designed to be the extent of his voyage.

“Ah, he’s a dead man,” cried the master carpenter, “though a pluct ’un, and no mistake!”

“Yes, there he goes into that clump of lofty trees like a heron to his nest,” said a workman.

“On to his rescue, men,” cried some gentlemen of position. Then the grounds were soon vacated after the professor had smashed through the upper leaves and broken the framework of his wings.

Falcon noticed that he held up his arms and waved them as a signal of safety, but some of the bystanders protested that he was knocked all to pieces, a result which Falcon and the master carpenter disbelieved, seeing that he took the tree tops as if it was the only suitable place upon which to alight, in order to save himself and the air-ship, though Eben’s master could see that it was by extraordinary good luck he did not dash into the asylum yard, which was not very far off, and which might have killed him outright.

Scudder, who had well enacted his part, was so embedded in the leaves and boughs, that ladders had to be procured before any assistance could be rendered, but as the foreman of the carpenters ran back to say that Scudder was not killed, only scratched a bit, Mr Falcon affected to feel somewhat restored, though he was quite unable to go with the mob to see about Scudder’s landing.

“Still,” said Falcon to the master carpenter, “I must return immediately to London and report the success of the first flight under such extreme disadvantages.”

“And are you,” said the tradesman, “going to take to flight yourself? Who then is to settle up with me?”

“I will,” cried Falcon, “as soon as you like; that is, if you will help us to get away by the next train.”

“I’m afraid you won’t do that, but there is one due in an hour and a half. At the same time, if you will go to my house and dry your clothes and settle the little account, my foreman shall see about your Professor Scudder, as you call him, and very aptly so, too, I think.”

Mr Falcon, finding that the master carpenter was resolved to stick to him, and that his foreman was instructed by signs and whispers not to lose sight of the little man, requested that Eben’s hat be restored to him with his other garments, which were picked up and found to be quite safe. Then Herr What’s-his-name, or, in plainer and more direct terms, Mr Falcon, saw the policy of assenting to all that had been proposed, and was truly glad to think that he would have so good a chance of leaving before any interference on the part of the local authorities or police had been ordered.

“Mind you,” added his counsellor, “if you want to avoid being questioned and perhaps detained for attempted homicide, or anything that might lead to further inquiry, you take my advice and leave by the next train.”

Seeing what a fix they might soon get in, Mr Falcon forthwith went to the master carpenter’s house, changed and dried his clothes, paid his bill, arranged that Eben Croft was to be brought to him from where he was and then the financier made fresh terms for getting all his traps together and paid for their carriage up to goodness knows where, no matter what state they might be in, and if the carpenter and his foreman would undertake to dispatch them with expedition, Falcon would pay extra, and handsomely, too.

This business-like offer had the desired effect, every man employed worked with a will. The tackle, much shattered, was taken down in a van. Scudder had his scratches and wounds seen to, and they just cleared out from the railway station when one or two plain clothes officers began inquiring about the health and residence of the foreigners, but the train was in motion, and the flying financier and his confederate were off before they were formally interviewed by the police, who rather winked at their escape, as they had caused no end of stir and amusement even among the demented sightseers, one of whom thought that the crazy man of flight was about to join them, as he was himself seemingly under the influence of a lunar complaint.