"You are the nephew, I suppose?"
Vane looked at him wonderingly.
"Yes, I thought so. Father and mother dead, and the doctor bringing you
up. Lucky fellow! Here, what does this mean?" and he pointed to the
rule.
"I was measuring," said Vane, colouring.
"Ah! Thought you were to be a clergyman or a doctor. Going to be a
carpenter?"
"No," replied Vane sharply, and feeling full of resentment at being
questioned so by a stranger. "I was measuring the walls."
"What for?" said the stranger, stepping into the greenhouse and making
the lad draw back.
"Well, if you must know, sir--"
"No, I see. Old flue worn-out;--measuring for a new one."
Vane shook his head, and, in spite of himself, began to speak out
freely, the stranger seeming to draw him.
"No; I was thinking of hot-water pipes."
"Good! Modern and better. Always go in for improvements. Use large
ones."
"Do you understand heating with hot-water, sir?"
"A little," said the stranger, smiling. "Where are you going to make
your furnace?"
"I wasn't going to make one."
"Going to do it with cold hot-water then?" said the stranger, smiling
again.
"No, of course not. The kitchen-fireplace is through there," said Vane,
pointing with his rule, "and I want to put a boiler in, so that the one
fire will answer both purposes."
"Good! Excellent!" said the stranger sharply. "Your own idea?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do it, then, as soon as you can--before the winter. Now take me in to
your uncle."
Vane looked at him again, and now with quite a friendly feeling for the
man who could sympathise with his plans.
He led the stranger to the front door, and was about to ask him his
name, when the doctor came out of his little study.
"Ah, Deering," he said quietly, "how are you? Who'd have thought of
seeing you."
"Not you, I suppose," said the visitor quietly. "I was at Lincoln on
business, and thought I would come round your way as I went back to
town."
"Glad to see you, man: come in. Vane, lad, find your aunt, and tell her
Mr Deering is here."
"Can't see that I'm much like him," said Vane to himself, as he went in
search of his aunt, and saw her coming downstairs.
"Here's Mr Deering, aunt," he said, "and uncle wants you."
"Oh, dear me!" cried Aunt Hannah, looking troubled, and beginning to
arrange her collar and cuffs.
"Why did uncle say that I was like Mr Deering, aunt?" whispered Vane.
"I'm not a bit. He's dark and I'm fair."
"He meant like him in his ways, my dear: always dreaming about new
inventions, and making fortunes out of nothing. I do hope your uncle
will not listen to any of his wild ideas."
This description of the visitor excited Vane's curiosity. One who
approved of his plans respecting the heating of the greenhouse was
worthy of respect, and Vane was in no way dissatisfied to hear that Mr
Deering was quite ready to accept the doctor's hospitality for a day or
two.
That afternoon, as Aunt Hannah did not show the least disposition to
leave the doctor and his guest alone, the latter rose and looked at
Vane.
"I should like a walk," he said. "Suppose you take me round the garden,
squire."
Vane followed him out eagerly; and as soon as they were in the garden,
the visitor said quickly:--
"Got a workshop?"
Vane flushed a little.
"Only a bit of a shed," he said. "It was meant to be a cow-house, but
uncle lets me have it to amuse myself in."
"Show it to me," said the visitor.
"Wouldn't you rather come round the grounds to have a look at uncle's
fruit?" said Vane hurriedly.
"No. Why do you want to keep me out of your den?"
"Well, it's so untidy."
"Workshops generally are. Some other reason."
"I have such a lot of failures," said Vane hurriedly.
"Blunders and mistakes, I suppose, in things you have tried to make?"
"Yes."
"Show me."
Vane would far rather have led their visitor in another direction, but
there was a masterful decided way about him that was not to be denied,
and the lad led him into the large shed which had been floored with
boards and lined, so as to turn it into quite a respectable workshop, in
which were, beside a great heavy deal table in the centre, a carpenter's
bench, and a turning lathe, while nails were knocked in everywhere,
shelves ran from end to end, and the place presented to the eye about as
strange a confusion of odds and ends as could have been seen out of a
museum.
Vane looked at the visitor as he threw open the door, expecting to hear
a derisive burst of laughter, but he stepped in quietly enough, and
began to take up and handle the various objects which took his
attention, making remarks the while.
"You should not leave your tools lying about like this: the edges get
dulled, and sometimes they grow rusty. Haven't you a tool-chest?"
"There is uncle's old one," said Vane.
"Exactly. Then, why don't you keep them in the drawers?--Humph!
Galvanic battery!"
"Yes; it was uncle's."
"And he gives it to you to play with, eh?"
Vane coloured again.
"I was trying to perform some experiments with it."
"Oh, I see. Well, it's a very good one; take care of it. Little
chemistry, too, eh?"
"Yes: uncle shows me sometimes how to perform experiments."
"But he does not show you how to be neat and orderly."
"Oh, this is only a place to amuse oneself in!" said Vane.
"Exactly, but you can get ten times the amusement out of a shop where
everything is in its place and there's a place for everything. Now,
suppose I wanted to perform some simple experiment, say, to show what
convection is, with water, retort and spirit lamp?"
"Convection?" said Vane, thoughtfully, as if he were searching in his
mind for the meaning of a word he had forgotten.
"Yes," said the visitor, smiling. "Surely you know what convection is."
"I've forgotten," said Vane, shaking his head. "I knew once."
"Then you have not forgotten. You've got it somewhere packed away.
Head's untidy, perhaps, as your laboratory."
"I know," cried Vane--"convection: it has to do with water expanding and
rising when it is hot and descending when it is cold."
"Of course it has," said the visitor, laughing, "why you were lecturing
me just now on the art of heating greenhouses by hot-water circulating
through pipes; well, what makes it circulate?"
"The heat."
"Of course, by the law of convection."
Vane rubbed one ear.
"You had not thought of that?"
"No."
"Ah, well, you will not forget it again. But, as I was saying--suppose
I wanted to try and perform a simple experiment to prove, on a small
scale, that the pipes you are designing would heat. I cannot see the
things I want, and I'll be bound to say you have them somewhere here."
"Oh, yes: I've got them all somewhere."
"Exactly. Take my advice, then, and be a little orderly. I don't mean
be a slave to order. You understand?"
"Oh, yes," said Vane, annoyed, but at the same time pleased, for he felt
that the visitor's remarks were just.
"Humph! You have rather an inventive turn then, eh?"
"Oh, no," cried Vane, disclaiming so grand a term, "I only try to make a
few things here sometimes on wet days."
"Pretty often, seemingly," said the visitor, peering here and there.
"Silk-winding, collecting. What's this? Trying to make a steam
engine?"
"No, not exactly an engine; but I thought that perhaps I might make a
little machine that would turn a wheel."
"And supply you with motive-power. Well, I will tell you at once that
it would not."
"Why not?" said Vane, with a little more confidence, as he grew used to
his companion's abrupt ways.
"Because you have gone the wrong way to work, groping along in the dark.
I'll be bound to say," he continued, as he stood turning over the
rough, clumsy contrivance upon which he had seized--a bit of mechanism
which had cost the boy a good many of his shillings, and the blacksmith
much time in filing and fitting in an extremely rough way--"that
Newcomen and Watt and the other worthies of the steam engine's early
days hit upon exactly the same ideas. It is curious how men in
different places, when trying to contrive some special thing, all start
working in the same groove."
"Then you think that is all stupid and waste of time, sir?"
"I did not say so. By no means. The bit of mechanism is of no use--
never can be, but it shows me that you have the kind of brain that ought
to fit you for an engineer, and the time you have spent over this has
all been education. It will teach you one big lesson, my lad. When you
try to invent anything again, no matter how simple, don't begin at the
very beginning, but seek out what has already been done, and begin where
others have left off--making use of what is good in their work as a
foundation for yours."
"Yes, I see now," said Vane. "I shall not forget that."
Their visitor laughed.
"Then you will be a very exceptional fellow, Vane Lee. But, there, I
hope you will not forget. Humph!" he continued, looking round, "You
have a capital lot of material here: machinery and toys. No, I will not
call them toys, because these playthings are often the parents of very
useful machines. What's that--balloon?"
"An attempt at one," replied Vane.
"Oh, then, you have been trying to solve the flying problem."
"Yes," cried Vane excitedly; "have you?"
"Yes, I have had my season of thought over it, my lad; and I cannot help
thinking that it will some day be mastered or discovered by accident."
Vane's lips parted, and he rested his elbows on the workbench, placed
his chin in his hands, and gazed excitedly in his companion's face.
"And how do you think it will be done?"
"Ah, that's a difficult question to answer, boy. There is the problem
to solve. All I say is, that if we have mastered the water and can
contrive a machine that will swim like a fish--"
"But we have not," said Vane.
"Indeed! Then what do you call an Atlantic liner, with the propeller in
its tail?"
"But that swims on the top of the water."
"Of course it does, because the people on board require air to breathe.
Otherwise it could be made to swim beneath the water as a fish does, and
at twenty miles an hour."
"Yes: I did not think of that."
"Well, as we have conquered the water to that extent, I do not see why
we should not master the air."
"We can rise in balloons."
"Yes, but the balloon is clumsy and unmanageable. It will not do."
"What then, sir?"
"That's it, my boy, what then? It is easy to contrive a piece of
mechanism with fans that will rise in the air, but when tried on a large
scale, to be of any real service, I'm afraid it would fail."
"Then why not something to fly like a bird or a bat?" said Vane eagerly.
"No; the power required to move the great flapping wings would be too
weighty for it; and, besides, I always feel that there is a something in
a bird or bat which enables it to make itself, bulk for bulk, the same
weight as the atmosphere."
"But that seems impossible," said Vane.
"Seems, but it may not be so. Fifty years ago the man would have been
laughed at who talked about sending a message to Australia and getting
the answer back the same day, but we do not think much of it now. We
would have thought of the Arabian Nights, and magicians, if a man had
spoken to some one miles away, then listened to his tiny whisper
answering back; but these telephonic communications are getting to be
common business matters now. Why, Vane, when I was a little boy
photography or light-writing was only being thought of: now people buy
accurate likenesses of celebrities at a penny a piece on barrows in
London streets."
Vane nodded.
"To go back to the flying," continued his companion, "I have thought and
dreamed over it a great deal, but without result. I am satisfied,
though, of one thing, and it is this, that some birds possess the power
of gliding about in the air merely by the exercise of their will. I
have watched great gulls floating along after a steamer at sea, by
merely keeping their wings extended. At times they would give a slight
flap or two, but not enough to affect their progress--it has appeared to
me more to preserve their balance. And, again, in one of the great
Alpine passes, I have watched the Swiss eagle--the Lammergeyer--rise
from low down and begin sailing round and round, hardly beating with his
wings, but always rising higher and higher in a vast spiral, till he was
above the mountain-tops which walled in the sides of the valley. Then I
have seen him sail right away. There is something more in nature
connected with flight, which we have not yet discovered. I will not say
that we never shall, for science is making mighty strides. There," he
added, merrily, "end of the lecture. Let's go out in the open air."
Vane sighed.
"I came from London, my boy, where all the air seems to be second-hand.
Out here on this slope of the wolds, the breeze gives one life and
strength. Take me for a walk, out in the woods, say, it will do me
good, and make me forget the worries and cares of life."
"Are you inventing something?"
Mr Deering gave the lad a sharp look, and nodded his head.
"May I ask what, sir?"
"No, my boy, you may not," said Mr Deering, sadly. "Perhaps I am going
straightway on the road to disappointment and failure; but I must go on
now. Some day you will hear. Now take me where I can breathe. Oh, you
happy young dog!" he cried merrily. "What a thing it is to be a boy!"
"Is it?" said Vane, quietly.
"Yes, it is. And you, sir, think to yourself, like the blind young mole
you are, what a great thing it is to be a man. There, come out into the
open air, and let's look at nature; I get very weary sometimes of art."
Vane looked wonderingly at his new friend and did not feel so warmly
toward him as he had a short time before, but this passed off when they
were in the garden, where he admired the doctor's fruit, waxed eloquent
over the apples and pears, and ate one of the former with as much
enjoyment as a boy.
He was as merry as could be, too, and full of remarks as the doctor's
Jersey cow and French poultry were inspected, but at his best in the
woods amongst the gnarled old oaks and great beeches, seeming never
disposed to tire.
That night Mr Deering had a very long consultation with the doctor; and
Vane noted that his aunt looked very serious indeed, but she said
nothing till after breakfast the next morning, when their visitor had
left them for town, and evidently in the highest spirits.
"Let that boy go on with his whims, doctor," he said aloud, in Vane's
hearing. "He had better waste a little money in cranks and eccentrics
than in toffee and hard-bake. Good-bye."
And he was gone as suddenly, so it seemed to Vane, as he had come.
It was then that Vane heard his aunt say:
"Well, my dear, I hope it is for the best. It will be a very serious
thing for us if it should go wrong."
"Very," said the doctor drily; and Vane wondered what it might be.