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.