REMARKABLE EVENTS
Whilst Captain Link had been enjoying his saunter with Miss Chain,
Harry Goodall had been engaged with Trigger and the men in completing
the inflation, which had progressed rapidly; yet, somehow, the
assistant was not feeling easy, as his master had been sent for and
detained in the building, and Miss Chain had not come back as she
promised. Besides, he had been told that she had been seen strolling
about with a gentleman who had the appearance of an officer, and Tom,
who took a lively interest in Miss Chain’s welfare, felt vexed at her
being so long absent with a stranger; and on Mr Goodall’s return,
Trigger candidly told his master what he had heard. Mr Goodall was
very sorry, for he feared that perhaps his joking question to Captain
Link as to where marriages were made, when they were strolling about,
had been overheard and had given rise to gossip. Possibly that man
Hawksworth had been ensconced in the shrubs while they were chatting.
Presently, however, Captain Link, Miss Chain and her mother entered the
inner circle, and Tom was thoroughly restored to good humour by their
return. Soon afterwards Tom was called aside by Hawksworth, who said in
an undertone, but with confidence,--
“I felt sure that I was right in sticking here with you and Mr
Goodall--and how like his photo this pretended captain is.”
“I don’t know in the least what you are driving at,” cried Trigger.
“Sir,” said Mr Goodall, who had overheard the remark, “I fear you are
labouring under a delusion.”
“Yes,” said Simon Warner, coming forward, “you are wrong this time,
Jack!”
“Not I,” persisted Hawksworth, who, taking a photo from his pocket and
then quietly going up to Captain Link, requested him to withdraw, and
to consider himself under arrest.
“What do I hear? You scoundrel!--under arrest!” cried Captain Link. “If
you don’t immediately retract your words and apologise, I will knock
you down.”
“Go it, captain!” cried a bystander.
Then a great stir and excitement arose, but Simon Warner stepping
between the enraged captain and Hawksworth, whispered to the
detective,--
“You are on the wrong tack. I have seen the man you want and his mate,
too. I mean that little fellow Croft--both of them have been under your
very nose of late--and now you have gone and insulted a gentleman.”
Meanwhile, Mr Goodall, Tom Trigger and the general manager had ranged
up near Captain Link, to protest against the charge, and in doing so
they attempted to allude to the farcical error, in a humorous style,
as a gross blunder on the part of the detective, Hawksworth--who was
unknown to the authorities and who openly stated that he was extremely
sorry, but he had made a mistake, and begged the captain’s pardon.
Captain Link then, in a very manly way, accepted the altered situation
and was loudly cheered by the bystanders. But Warner, with remarkable
shrewdness, said in an undertone by way of further explanation,--
“The party you are in search of, Hawksworth, is almost, though not
quite, the double of that gentleman who is Captain Link.”
“But didn’t he leave Sydney and arrive here in the ship _Neptune_?”
“Yes, yes,” interrupted the aeronaut, “he has the honour to command
her. You have missed your men, Hawksworth. The fellows you want have
been knocking about here, causing no end of mischief, for some time.”
“If,” said Warner, “you want to drop upon two men named Falcon and
Croft, you come along with me and I’ll show you which road they took,
though I fear they’ve hooked it by this time.”
Hawksworth, after hearing this, at once withdrew from the enclosure
with Warner, when the situation was at length comprehended by everybody
present, and Captain Link, together with the aeronaut, became the
heroes of the hour.
The general manager, knowing that the appointed time for the ascent had
expired, said,--
“Pray, Mr Goodall, do not delay the ascent any longer, for these
complications are most regrettable.”
“I would not hurry Mr Goodall,” said the chairman of the directors.
“I have placed at his disposal, near the car, a small hamper of
refreshments, which may be acceptable to them on their journey,” he
added.
After acknowledging this thoughtful attention, Mr Goodall and his
party took their places in the car, Trigger having already tested the
ascending power with the gardeners’ help, who put in the car plenty
of ballast. All being ready, the aeronaut released his balloon.
Immediately an encouraging cheer arose, and all eyes were directed to
them for some minutes.
The course of the voyagers was towards Essex, but the balloon was soon
lost to view amongst the clouds, and was not seen afterwards from
Sydenham. But, in following them, the reader should know that, before
they glided through into the serene upper air, Harry Goodall was seen
by his companions to be examining more carefully his map and barometer.
Having done so, his attention was directed some few miles ahead, as
they had crossed the Thames and were well over, when he said to his
nautical friend,--
“Just take a look through my glass, Captain Link, and scan that red
brick building nestling among the trees yonder.”
“By Jove! Goodall, that looks uncommonly like your uncle’s residence,
where I was to arrive by train to-night, to give an account of how I
had succeeded in giving you a distaste for ballooning, and here I am
actually encouraging you and taking part in the pursuit myself. You
must really plunge us into cloudland before the balloon is identified
through your uncle’s long-distance telescope.”
“Don’t alarm yourself, Link, we are parting with ballast and shall
soon be out of sight and in blue sky, I hope, but we must watch the
influence of the north-easterly wind which prevails higher up.”
“You are quite right, Harry,” said Captain Link. “I observed the more
lofty clouds going in that direction this morning.”
“What a change!” exclaimed Miss Chain, “and how much darker it is.”
“Yes,” replied the aeronaut, “we are passing through the clouds, and I
daresay you feel chilly.”
“Allow me,” said the captain, “to draw your mantle closer around you,
Miss Chain.”
“Thank you; it is certainly colder.”
“Eighteen degrees less than when we started,” said Harry.
“But what a charming sight!” exclaimed Miss Chain, as the balloon shot
through the lighter vapour into sunshine.
“Quite a sea of clouds beneath us!” said Captain Link.
“Yes, and here we get a fine view of the ‘central blue,’” cried Harry
Goodall, rubbing his hands with delight at having changed the scene.
But while Miss Chain and Captain Link were exchanging their impressions
as to the fantastic forms of cloud and vapour which had gathered
beneath them, the aeronaut was intent, with his compass in one hand,
looking through an opening in the clouds towards a point of land
which he saw in the distance partly surrounded by the sea. Goodall
then noticed the course of the balloon as indicated by the compass,
not forgetting to watch their drift over the clouds as an additional
indication of the way in which they were going; but he was sorry to
find that, in trying to avoid his uncle’s house, they were caught on
the horns of a dilemma, for a momentary peep through a rift in the
clouds enabled him to perceive that they were travelling with great
speed in too close proximity to the Channel to be safe. They had
completely altered their direction, having risen into the north-east
current, which prevailed at about a mile and a half from the earth, and
they were now going towards Hastings, and had recrossed the estuary
of the Thames without knowing it. However, Harry Goodall did not wish
to alarm Miss Chain, or to make known their exact and rather perilous
position, which would have to be rectified.
Captain Link began to think that, when the chart and the compass were
so frequently consulted, there must be some cause for uneasiness, and,
as he knew that the aeronaut had traced with a pencil on his map their
course since they left Sydenham, he asked Harry to point out exactly
where they were supposed to be at that present moment. The aeronaut
hesitated to comply with the request, but gave the mariner and then Tom
Trigger the following answer,--
“We have totally changed our direction, and are now under the sway of
the north-easterly wind;--but I am going to descend a few thousand feet
and sight the earth.”
“But first let me look at your latest pencil mark, Goodall,” said
Captain Link.
“You shall; but we are now most likely more within the coast line.
Don’t be alarmed, Miss Chain, I am about to make a noise with the valve
by opening it somewhat.”
“Oh, I have full confidence in your skill and management, Mr Goodall,
though I thank you for warning me.”
The captain and Tom Trigger, both of whom inferred that the balloon
might have been getting nearer to the Channel than they had been aware
of, preserved a discreet reticence; but they quite understood that
until they had passed through the widespread range of clouds, and
ascertained whether they were over the sea or land, they could not
possibly be free from a considerable amount of doubt. Trigger began to
see to the stock of ballast which he was in charge of,--as they were
just approaching some Alpine peaks of cloudland, and would soon be
passing down through a much denser stratum.
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Miss Chain, “it is getting dark and damp again!”
“Yes; but the chill will not last long,” said Mr Goodall, soothingly.
“That strong north-easter has given us a sharp turn, Harry,” said the
captain.
“It has, and to what extent it has driven us is just what I am anxious
to ascertain.”
“Strong light breaking, sir,” cried Tom Trigger who had taken a bag of
sand in one hand while he motioned to Captain Link to do likewise.
But Harry Goodall had caught the first indistinct glance of land and
water--afterwards they heard the sound of a railway whistle--but on the
left the open sea was not far off, though the aeronaut did not point
this out, but drew Miss Chain’s attention to the green marsh-land on
their right.
“Yes, wonderfully green isn’t it,” replied the lady; “but what
murmuring sound is that we hear? It reminds me of the surf breaking on
the seashore!”
“It does resemble that, certainly,” said Captain Link, “and we do hear
the distant ripples, but we are going rather inland.”
“Not so very much are we, Mr Goodall?” asked Miss Chain, while the
silence of the mariner and Trigger was strictly and wisely preserved.
“Those Martello Towers look pretty,” she added.
“They will look prettier presently,” said the captain, “as we leave
them behind us. We must have been bowling along, Harry, to be so far
south?”
“Yes, it was that swift upper current that did it; but we are now
almost in the same calm air which prevailed when we left the Crystal
Palace. At the same time, we must land as soon as possible,” said the
aeronaut, with a knowing look which the captain and Trigger knew how to
interpret,--for there was no disguising from them what a close shave
they had experienced, and that they were still too near the coast line
to be safe.
They were, however, under the influence of a light sea breeze which
bore them inland, and as a suitable spot for alighting was descried in
the distance, Tom Trigger asked if he should be ready with the grapnel.
“I think not, Trigger,” said his master. “We are making for a nice
spot behind those trees yonder; but you may lower the trail rope, as
we progress so slowly now that the people assembled in the quarter I
am pointing to, will be able to hold us fast without letting go the
grapnel.”
“I had no idea, Harry,” said Captain Link, “what tact and jockeyship
were necessary in managing a balloon. You see,” he added, turning to
Miss Chain, “the movements of this kind of craft differ widely from
those of a vessel on the water--here all is noiseless and seemingly
bewildering to novices like ourselves.”
“Do you think, Mr Goodall,” asked Miss Chain, “that we shall reach the
spot you have your eye upon?”
“Oh, yes; and I do not want to miss it, as the downs beyond are
uninviting--but I have no very accurate knowledge of this part of
the country. We must stop talking, however, now, please. Pay away
your trail rope, Trigger,” added the aeronaut; “the people there are
inviting us with their cheers.”
As the long rope dragged over the trees, it was soon caught and
held by the villagers and others who had collected, and the balloon
was gradually stopped, without any order having been given to that
effect. Then the people began to pull them down rather more hastily
than pleased Mr Goodall, so that Trigger became somewhat excited and
beckoned them not to do so until express orders were given.
“Tell that stout fellow in velveteens,” said the aeronaut, “not to be
in such a hurry, and not to jerk the rope, Trigger.”
“Hold on, Bennet!” cried Trigger, “for one moment, please.”
“How dare you call that man nicknames!” cried Mr Goodall. “How do you
know what his name is, and who, pray, are you kissing your hand to?”
“Why, sir, don’t you know where you are?”
“No, I don’t. Where are we, then?”
“Why, at Wedwell Park, in Sussex, to be sure. There stands Lucy, sir,
and Bennet, the gamekeeper. Listen, sir, and there’s the squire, too,
saying ‘Welcome friends, pray come down.’”
“Confound it all!” exclaimed Harry Goodall, “I would not have descended
here on any account, if I had known it. Link, I’m done for,” continued
Goodall, turning to the captain. “Squire Dove and his daughter reside
here. Whatever will my uncle say? Do tell them to let go the rope, as
I wish to proceed further.”
“But can’t we get out of this little affair without making an
ignominious retreat, Harry?” suggested Captain Link.
“It is a lovely spot!” urged Miss Chain. “What a pity to leave it, and
do notice that young lady who appears to be anxious for us to descend,
Mr Goodall.”
“Well, listen then, Link,” whispered Harry in a highly nervous
state, “there is only one way out of the difficulty. _We must not
say who we are or where we came from._ Let us merely call ourselves
experimentalists who do not desire publicity--remember that now.”
“Don’t forget, sir, that they know me,” said Trigger.
“Hold your tongue, Tom; I am very angry with you.”
“There is really nothing to be frightened about, Harry,” urged the
captain. “Neither Squire Dove nor his daughter know you personally, and
as to Trigger, you can call him the _balloon pilot_.”
“Bother his pilotage, and my own too! I ought to say, however, we are
all agreed not to divulge our names.”
“Oh, do listen,” said Miss Chain; “they are so anxious to have us down.”
“Welcome to Wedwell!” cried the squire once more. “Do pray come down.”
“Yes, do come!” said Miss Dove, pleadingly.
“There, Harry, if you can resist that!” exclaimed his friend Link.
“Yes; I suppose there is no help for it, and we must face it, and then
get away as soon as we possibly can. Gently down,” said the aeronaut
to Trigger, “and mind you spring out when I tell you, and warn Lucy to
hold aloof and not to betray us.”
“She won’t do that, sir,” said Tom.
“Gently down, Bennet,” sang out the balloon pilot, in compliance with
his master’s wish that he should act up to his new title.
“Don’t be alarmed, Harry. I will make it all right with your uncle,”
whispered Captain Link, who looked as if he were pleased at the turn
things had taken.
A round of cheering greeted the voyagers, as the car dropped into the
arms of the Wedwell parkites. The squire took off his hat to Miss
Chain, and Edith Dove blushingly said some pleasant words of greeting
to Harry Goodall, who was pointed out by the captain as the proprietor
of the balloon, to whom the chief honours were due.
Trigger was allowed to get out of the car, while the sturdy gamekeeper
was asked to take his place. The aeronaut’s eyes were fixed for some
seconds on Miss Dove--but what his thoughts were neither Captain Link
nor Miss Chain could divine.
“If you will only get out,” said the squire, “I will guarantee that the
gamekeeper and his men will take charge of your balloon, whilst you all
get some refreshment. We are just going to dinner. Hand me that chair
for the lady to dismount, and do allow me,” said the squire, “to assist
you.”
“If one of your men will get in as each of us gets out,” cried the
aeronaut, “to make up the weight--that will do. But the pilot is coming
back; he will tell you how to manage.”
“I do hope that you are not going to let the gas out,” said the squire.
“Couldn’t you, after dinner, treat us to a captive ascent?”
“Certainly,” said the aeronaut, “I shall have much pleasure in doing
so, Squire Dove.”
A surly-looking old gentleman here came forward and said,--
“Don’t risk your life in such a trap as that, squire.”
“Please not to interfere, Doctor Peters,” retorted Squire Dove, testily.
At this moment the gong was heard in the distance, when the squire
offered his arm to Miss Chain, and begged that the aeronaut would
escort Miss Dove.
“We must not lose sight of your nautical-looking friend,” said the
squire, alluding to Captain Link. “Your pilot I have seen before, I
believe; he will be in good hands.”
“Thank you, squire, he will have to stick to the ship.”
“Now, do favour me with your name,” said the Squire to the aeronaut.
“The truth is we have all agreed to preserve strict secrecy in that
respect, squire, for reasons which I cannot fully explain just at this
moment.”
“Oh, I quite grasp the idea. You are not professional balloonists,
probably, and do not wish to make known what you are doing.”
“No, we are not, and do not care about publicity or anything of that
sort.”
“I observed that, after you came through the clouds, your balloon moved
less rapidly, and just as it came nearer the earth you were almost
becalmed--how do you account for that, pray?”
“I scarcely know,” replied the aeronaut; “it may have been owing to
some influence I failed to notice.”
“Atmospheric, you mean,” cried the squire.
“Oh, do, papa,” interposed Miss Dove, “let us get into the Hall before
the tiresome old doctor comes. He is following us with a letter in his
hand.”
“Perhaps our Sydenham friend will not be in to dinner after all,” said
the squire. “We will halt for one moment, please, to hear about that.
How now, Doctor Peters?” added the squire; “you move as nimbly as ever.”
“I have just had a message, squire,” said the doctor in a whisper, “to
say that our friend Falcon cannot keep his engagement--he may be here
this evening or to-morrow. Excuse my coming in, squire.”
“Yes, yes, certainly, Peters, you amuse yourself with the balloon. Did
our friend Falcon come down to Lewes?”
“I did not hear particulars,” replied the doctor; “but something has
turned up to stop his arrival here.”
“No accident, I hope?” said Miss Dove.
“Now do come in, friends,” urged the squire, who proceeded to show his
visitors above stairs.
Afterwards, when they were seated at table, the squire expressed regret
that his friend, who had not been in England long, did not happen to be
present.
“Very likely, Edith,” said her father, “he was detained by something
unforeseen at Sydenham.”
“It may have been owing to something _seen_,” said Miss Dove, archly.
But while the squire’s daughter looked as if it would be quite as
well for them to say no more about the absentee, the aeronaut caught
sight of an enlarged photographic likeness, on which his attention was
riveted, and which appeared to give him some uneasiness, but it passed
unnoticed by Miss Chain and Captain Link, their backs being towards it.