MR FALCON ON FLIGHT
While the financier was considering whether he should leave Doctor
Peters at once or wait, so as to avoid getting in contact with Warner,
it occurred to him that he might stay a while and sound his adviser
as to the other scheme he had been thinking about ever since Eben
Croft purloined from Mr Goodall’s workroom a treatise on “Flight” by
Professor Scudder.
The possession of this manuscript by Mr Falcon, induced him to decide
upon utilising the suggestions therein contained, for he had not
forgotten the discomfiture he met with on the Crystal Palace lake, and
he longed for an opportunity of surpassing the air-ship performance of
Harry Goodall, which made such a favourable impression on Miss Dove
before the amateur aeronaut rescued her from a watery grave. Thus
animated with entirely new notions, the financier requested Doctor
Peters to listen while he explained a scheme by which he hoped further
to raise himself in the estimation of Squire Dove and his daughter.
The doctor at first felt disinclined to devote any time and attention
to the affairs of his visitor, and he was on the point of saying “Shut
up” (as Mr Falcon had done when he whispered from the skeleton case).
The doctor, however, still mindful of the financier’s liberal fees,
consented to hear what he had to say, but begged that Mr Falcon would
be concise, as he was not disposed to go into scientific arguments
or a lengthy preamble, nor could he listen to profound calculations.
“For you must not forget, Mr Falcon,” he said, “that in Surgery and
Pathology we dislike complications,” and he knew that figures could be
easily made to embarrass the uninitiated and to deceive scientists as
well. “So do unfold your wings, tail and what not with simplicity of
diction.”
“You may rely on my doing that, doctor, but first let me inform you
that I have not long since visited a noted tower in which a valuable
work on flying was deposited, and it was there that my servant Eben
Croft dropped into the storeroom, where he picked up a rare and
original manuscript on ‘Flight,’ by Professor Scudder.”
“And this, I suppose, Mr Falcon, has taken a firm hold of your mind?”
“Exactly, doctor--after I had obtained a firm hold of the book. Then
I went deeply into the subject, but I had thought about the matter
previously.”
“Indeed, Mr Falcon, I was not aware of that. Maybe it was after you had
studied and appropriated some of Scudder’s notions?”
“Mind, Peters, what you are insinuating.”
“Quite so! I merely say and mean that you, as a man of action, felt
called upon to give life, energy and force to Scudder’s proposals,
having most likely modified and improved his early conceptions.”
“Well, there’s something in the way you now put it, doctor, for it is
unquestionable that my own views present a more attractive programme,
if I may use the term, than Scudder’s did.”
“And who the dickens is Scudder, pray?”
“Scudder himself hails from Holland.”
“Ay, he is the veritable Flying Dutchman, no doubt; but is he a man of
aeronautical experience, Mr Falcon?”
“Not so much as I am, doctor.”
“Indeed! Where have you matriculated?”
“I have devoted considerable attention to the movements and acts of a
clever balloonist.”
“What! you have, Mr Falcon?”
“Yes, but that is strictly confidential, and I want it to go no
further, please.”
“Say no more, Mr Falcon, on that head, but at once propound your
theory, for I am curious to hear why you have two strings to your bow.”
“Eh? What is that you say about my bow?”
“I was adverting to your contemplating ‘Flight,’ while you have so
great an attractive power in Miss Dove. Couldn’t you remain within the
sphere of her influence?”
“Of course I could; but aren’t you a bit wandering yourself, doctor?
You spoke of my having two strings to my bow.”
“What I meant was, that as a financial suitor you pose well, but as a
flying man you would not, I think, appear to advantage.”
“Would it surprise you to hear, doctor, that Miss Dove has a taste for
aerial exploration?”
“Oh, nonsense, my dear sir. Surely I ought to know more about that than
you. However, tell me more of your flying machine ideas.”
“You must know then, doctor, that the main-spring of it consists of a
huge steel bow, and I thought you might have heard something of this
when you alluded to my having two strings to my bow.”
“No; I have heard nothing whatever of your plans, but never mind about
the two strings, Mr Falcon, so that you stick to one bow.”
“You may be sure I shall do that, for it is by this power I shall be
able to ascend.”
“What do you mean, Mr Falcon?”
“To be more explicit, doctor, I shall first pass into space through the
instrumentality of an enormous cross-bow.”
“Then you will be the arrow?”
“Yes, and will face the inevitable like a bird.”
“Ay, like a Falcon, you might have said.”
“Mind, doctor, what use you make of an unsullied name.”
“I shall do it no harm if you don’t yourself, sir; but say what you
like, Mr Falcon, I don’t believe you will ever fly unless you have a
limb of the law at your heels.”
“Your candid opinion is not very encouraging, doctor, but it will not
discourage me from enlightening your darkness.”
“Yes, I want more light as to your flighty ideas, for I am no air
explorer and have never even been up the City Monument, or the Crystal
Palace towers. Have you, Mr Falcon?”
“Many a time and oft, doctor. Why, it was at the palace tower where I
came across Scudder’s book.”
“Was it really? Do go on then, though I fear this flying fad will
bewilder you before you chuck it up.”
“Hear me out, doctor.”
“By all means, for I fail to see how you are going to do it.”
“I am not going to imitate the tactics of previous sky soarers, but I
do hold with Scudder as to a good dashing start.”
“You won’t dash into a horse pond, a limekiln, or a railway train, I
trust.”
“No fear, doctor. With my first spring I shall be hurled clear of all
such impediments.”
“You say hurled, Mr Falcon. Why, you almost take my breath away.”
“That is because you lack imagination, doctor, or you would picture to
yourself my contrivance in full swing on the lawn in front of Wedwell
Hall.”
“God forbid that I should witness such a scene!”
“Simply because you fail, Peters, to see in your mind’s eye the merit
of the invention. Can’t you imagine an enormous cross-bow, with two
large grooves in the stock for the air-ship to slide up when the bow is
bent and the trigger pulled?”
“No, I don’t see it.”
“You will presently when I further explain that these grooves will be
three feet apart, and that the car or sledge of the air-craft will
slide up these grooves, as two half round pieces of wood will be
fastened at the bottom of the sledge. Of course the wire cord of the
great steel bow will be drawn down and fixed behind the air machine
before the trigger is pulled.”
“And how long after this bit of trigger-nometry do you expect to be
alive, man?”
“Oh, that will be all right; you will see soon how the thing will work.”
“Never, I fear.”
“Well, I’ll try to make you, anyhow; and don’t forget, doctor, that the
craft or cruiser (call it which you like) will narrow at the stem.”
“What for, Mr Falcon?”
“What for? Why, to cleave the air like a thing of life, so that when
the wings are opened out by touching a lever then the pace will be
prodigious, though, at first, the machine will have the wings closed up
like the arms of a diver before he springs, but once away I should go
clean over Wedwell Park.”
“Yes, yes, provided you got over the squire and the Hall.”
“Hear me out, doctor, while I tell you that the great cross-bow stock
will be raised on blocks to an angle of 25 degrees, in order that my
first leap into space should shoot me clear of the housetops until my
wings opened for practical work.”
“Why, man, you would go like a projectile, and, to my thinking, you
would be launched into eternity.”
“Should I really. You’re wrong there, Peters; only think how divers
sometimes drop from great heights and then turn up safely like corks.”
“But your turn up, Mr Falcon, according to your own account, would
last for more than a few seconds, and in that time your senses (or what
was left of them) would be whisked out of you in a jiffy.”
“You forget, doctor, that when I reached the park boundaries I should
slow down a bit and bring into use my motive power, for without that, I
should drop by the run.”
“Just like De Groof did, Mr Falcon, when he was killed at Chelsea over
twenty years ago.”
“That poor man was not kept moving on. He wanted propelling, or some
other force, as I shall employ.”
“You don’t mean police force, possibly?”
“No, something stronger than that, or electricity either.”
“Compressed air, perhaps?”
“You must excuse me stating my power, doctor, for to a man of your
sensitive nature it might sound alarming.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Mr Falcon lifted his hand and struck the
table so violently that he made a wine glass jump until it fell and was
smashed on the carpet. He then said without the least apology,--
“My driving power, doctor, will be worked by an explosive!”
“An explosive! I hope it won’t blow you to atoms like the pieces of
glass around us.”
“No fear, Peters; I am free, however, to admit that a succession of
explosions will produce a rocket-like movement. But you will excuse me,
won’t you, for not naming the chemical compound employed?”
“Don’t you worry about that, Mr Falcon. I am quite convinced as to the
violent nature of it, and I won’t press you for a further exposition
of your new motive power; indeed, I perceive that, at the outset, you
will go up (unless you funk it) like a live military shell or rocket.
Secondly, that you will have folding wings to your craft; and thirdly,
that by the aid of explosive materials, you will set these in motion,
so that you can flap, sail, whirl or swoop.”
“Never mind the swooping, doctor; that might be resorted to in a
desperate emergency.”
“Yes, in the last scene of a closing act, I guess.”
“Don’t you be so jocular and ironical, doctor. You have done me one
good turn, and I want you to do another by taking this fresh matter up
warmly, and further by introducing it to the Doves.”
“Not I, Mr Falcon. For my part I shall drop it from this moment
like a hot cinder, and I strongly recommend you to do the same, and
to concentrate your attentions on Miss Dove simply as a financial
projector rather than as a man of flight.”
“Well, I do believe, doctor, that you advise me as a true friend, and
I will not attempt even a preliminary canter in the park before I have
tried an experiment elsewhere.”
“Don’t try to fly, but go at once to Sydenham, Mr Falcon, and see that
Eben Croft is set free from durance vile.”
“A bright idea, doctor, and a very suggestive one, too; and, for your
concluding hint, I thank you very much, and I promise faithfully to
turn it to account.”