A KNIGHT OF THE AIR

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“Just when the pilot and Bennet had commenced to wind down the balloon, a report from a gun was heard.”—Page 156.

A KNIGHT OF THE AIR Or, the Aerial Rivals

BY HENRY COXWELL AUTHOR OF ‘MY LIFE AND BALLOON EXPERIENCES’

LONDON DIGBY, LONG & CO., PUBLISHERS 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C.

ARABELLA KENEALY’S NOVELS

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THIS STORY IS Dedicated BY PERMISSION TO Sir WILLIAM INGRAM, Bart. WHO HAS ALWAYS EXHIBITED A DEEP INTEREST ON PRACTICAL AERONAUTICS

CHAPTER I SHADOWED!

Mr Harry Goodall, a young, tall and well-set-up gentleman, was walking impatiently to and fro on the south side of Trafalgar Square, as if he were awaiting the arrival of someone who had agreed to meet him. The fact was, he was in a hurry to get to Sydenham, where he was about to try a scientific experiment, and was momentarily expecting a cab conveying a model apparatus which he was going to test. While he was waiting, his attention was drawn to two men who, in crossing the road, were nearly run over, and who, as soon as they caught sight of Goodall, nudged one another and whispered for a moment, and then disappeared behind one of the lions. Almost immediately the cab Goodall was expecting drew up with a long, coffin-shaped box on the top, and, at the same[2] moment, the two men emerged from their hiding-place, and passed Goodall as he stepped into the cab. He noticed this action, and, for some undefined reason, he merely instructed the coachman to drive over Westminster Bridge. The cab bore him swiftly away, but “More haste less speed,” for, as they went down the

incline on the Surrey side, the horse slipped and fell. A crowd gathered, and Goodall alighted. As he did so, he noticed a hansom pass him, in which were the same two men he had observed watching him in Trafalgar Square. Shortly afterwards, the cab horse was got up on to his legs again and the journey to Sydenham was proceeded with, after the coachman had received definite orders as to his destination.

As he drove along, it occurred to Goodall that he must be the object of these two men’s attention. The question was, were they detectives who had mistaken him for someone else, or were they spies put on by his uncle, who was, he knew, most averse to the hobby of his life, which, it may be said at once, was ballooning? However, he dismissed the matter from his mind as the cab drew up at the workmen’s entrance to the Crystal Palace, where he deposited the box with the officials and then drove on to the central entrance, where he exchanged civilities with the general manager, and with whom he chatted for a short time in the transept as to what he proposed doing in the way of experiments, and so on. Passing into the[3] building, and wending his way through the groups of refreshment tables, although his mind was full of his project, he could not help noticing a party of people seated at one of the tables. It consisted of a young lady and two gentleman, while another person, as if an attendant on one of them, stood in the background.

The lady was remarkably pretty, and one of her companions was an aristocratic-looking old gentleman—a country squire in appearance—but the other, whose face Mr Goodall had seen before, gave him a rude, fixed stare, and, as Goodall drew nearer, he recognised him as one of the two men who had passed him in the hansom, whilst the man in the background was his companion. Thinking that this third rencontre was, perhaps, after all, merely a coincidence, Mr Goodall passed on through the door of the tropical department, and soon afterwards entered a square, glass-built room of large dimensions, which is situated beneath the lofty North Tower, and which had been placed at Mr Goodall’s disposal to facilitate a series of aeronautical experiments, but not in a public capacity, demonstrating his own ideas on aeronautics, and which aimed at rescuing ballooning from the imputation that its pursuit, which had become valuable for military purposes, must necessarily be attended with continual risk, and with those frequent fatalities which have cast a slur on its more recent practice.

In Mr Goodall’s laboratory, or workroom, as he[4] preferred to call it, was a smart young fellow named Trigger, who acted as his assistant, whilst two lady-like women, Mrs Chain and her daughter, were giving the finishing touches to a superb silk balloon, work with which Goodall had entrusted them out of compassion, being aware that they were in bad circumstances through having been swindled by a fraudulent financier, who had embezzled funds of theirs given him to invest.

“Good morning, Mrs Chain,” said Mr Goodall. “Did you ever see a more glorious day? And you, Miss Chain, you wish me success to-day, I hope?”

“Why, of course, Mr Goodall. I was just saying to Lucy”—with a nod over to a young woman, Tom Trigger’s sweetheart,—“that you seem as fortunate as the Queen with respect to weather.”

In addition to the silk balloon, at which they were working there were model machines in the workroom, together with a great mass of tackle, all appertaining to the practice of ballooning. The special contrivance that was to undergo a trial that day was a cone-pointed aerostat of thirteen feet in length, by four feet in central diameter, which Mr Goodall had brought with him in the cab. The amateur’s idea was to use it somewhat like a keel or centre-board boat of novel shape, which was to be driven by a screw propeller on the lake, so as to cause the air-ship, while floating in its own element, some feet[5] above the aquatic contrivance, to deviate several points from the straight course of the wind, as steering by the aid of water, in Mr Goodall’s opinion, could be more easily managed than by steering solely in the air above.

Whilst this invention was being prepared for trial in the lower grounds on the lake, the shadows of two outside visitors were cast on the cotton screen which hung all round the workroom on the inside. As these persons came nearer to the front window, their shadows became more distinct, and they represented a tall man and a shorter person behind, but the leading one was very inquisitive, peering about, trying his level best to get a glimpse of what was going inside. Lucy, whose quick eye was the first to detect the intruder, drew Mr Goodall’s attention to him, when the aeronaut requested them to keep quiet while he had a good look at the profile of the man, as if it struck him very forcibly that it was one of the two who had been watching and following him in London and in the palace.

The little man moved away, but his companion remained looking through every nook and crevice to see who was inside. Miss Chain, who felt an irrepressible desire to catch a glimpse of the intruder, took advantage of a hole in the screen to satisfy her curiosity. She had no sooner looked than she started back with a scream, and fell fainting into[6] a chair. The spy, hearing the cry, vanished immediately.

Miss Chain looked pale and frightened, but, with Lucy’s assistance, she soon recovered herself.

Trigger wanted to open the door and go after the man, but his master stopped him.

“You had better keep quiet,” said Mr Goodall, “as Miss Chain’s attack may be, after all, only the result of close air and overwork. A walk round the archery ground presently will do her all the good in the world, and, meanwhile, we can go down to the lake to try my air-ship.”

Lucy, although glad to see her friend’s recovery, looked upon the whole thing as a joke, and remarked as much, whereupon Mr Goodall, who overheard her, agreed, and laughingly said,—

“A phantom figure has possibly appeared.”

“Pardon me,” said Miss Chain; “it was no phantom I saw, Mr Goodall, but the figure of one who—”

“There now, don’t take on any more,” said Lucy, as she held the smelling salts nearer to Miss Chain’s face, and, giving her a significant nudge, silenced her.

“You will soon be all right,” said Mr Goodall, as he prepared to leave with Trigger. “You must take a holiday this afternoon and get some fresh air.”

When, however, the aeronaut and his assistant had[7] left, poor Miss Chain cast a scared look at the screen and, turning to Lucy, said,—

“Holiday, indeed! This is the worst thing that has happened since I left Boulogne. I will tell you more of what I mean when we are in the open air. If I could only meet him face to face, Lucy, instead of only seeing his shadow!”

“No doubt you would let him have it hot,” replied Lucy, in her honest, blunt way; “but, as it is only a vision, you had better keep quiet until he does show up, and then if he opens his mouth and has anything to say worth hearing, I will chime in and help you.”

“Do you think, Lucy, that creature is prowling about without a fixed object? He must have heard that I am here. And wasn’t there another man with him just before I fainted?”

“There, goodness me, Miss Chain, don’t carry on in that way; let us go out and look at the flowers. Remember that I shall soon have to leave you for my new situation in the country, but I hope that you will come and see me in Sussex. Tom says it is at a fine park.”

“I wish I could go too, Lucy.”

“Who knows? The lady might want a companion some day. Come along, you’ll soon be better.”

“Not if I am worried again in this way by a would-be gentleman, who has now seen me working for my daily bread through his dishonesty. But here[8] comes my mother. I am so glad, Lucy, that she went out before he appeared. Don’t say anything about it to her at present.”

“Never fear, Miss Chain, for I begin to see what you mean, though I didn’t at first, that you may have really seen that man who tricked you and your mother at Boulogne in the shameful way you told me about.”

“Hush! Let us drop the subject for to-day.”

CHAPTER II AN ACCIDENT

Mr Goodall and Tom Trigger made their way down to a sheltered shed near the cricket ground of the Crystal Palace, with the air-ship, and they proceeded to inflate it through a small gas-pipe, which was three-quarters of an inch in diameter. This process occupied an hour, so that they had ample time to talk about Miss Chain’s fright and fit.

“What is your opinion of what happened just now in the workroom?” asked Mr Goodall.

“Hardly know, sir, I’m sure. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, and where there’s shadow there’s substance.”

“Yes, especially as a look through the peep-hole confirmed Miss Chain’s suspicions, whatever they were.”

“Do you think, sir, that he was looking after her?”

“To be candid, Trigger, I rather thought that the[10] fellow was looking after me, and wanted to know where my balloons were located. I have come across him three times before this morning.”

“Indeed, sir, that seems odd.”

“I first saw him in Trafalgar Square, next he passed me in a hansom when my cab broke down, and then to my surprise he turned up in the palace, talking to a young lady and a gentleman, and he had that same little fellow with him whom we saw behind him outside the room. I noticed, too, that the tall man gave me an ugly look, as if he had some knowledge of what my business here consisted of.”

“I think I have heard you say, sir, that your uncle and your father both object to ballooning?”

“Yes, they do. That reminds me, I have just heard that my father has met with an accident on board one of his own ships. The mishap is reported to have occurred whilst he was on his way from Sydney to Cape Town, and my uncle, a merchant in London, is anxiously looking for further information. I must see him as soon as possible, Trigger. But, as regards these queer strangers who seem to be following me about, I scarcely know what to think, for the big, dark fellow is shadowing Miss Chain as well, it would appear. I hope my uncle has not told him that I am here.”

“I don’t suppose he has, sir. For my part, I rather think he is after the young lady.”

[11]“After the pretty girl who was with him in the palace, do you mean?”

“No, sir, I meant after Miss Chain, for he may have known her before she came here. But these shadows are wonderful things to terrify people, though I don’t believe they’d send you into a fit, Mr Goodall.”

“They might—into a fit of laughter, Tom. But, look here, I want you to hurry on, for many reasons, my first ascent, as all the arrangements are made, and I did think of ascending this afternoon, but I have decided to be satisfied with a trial of the air-ship instead, and to baffle this spy. At the same time, the palace directors are relying upon my keeping faith this week, though no ascent has been announced, but the gas has been ordered, so that we must proceed as soon as possible.”

“The air-ship is full now, sir. Shall I turn off the gas?”

“Yes, and I will lead the way to the lake and hold her stem, while you keep abaft and carry the little steam propeller.”

“I am quite ready, sir. It is just the day for this sort of work.”

“Yes, and I hope that all will go well and lead to something successful. We must keep to this end of the lake and get her under weigh before the wind gets up, as a slight ripple is to be seen on the water[12] down where those boats are. I hope that we shall not be interrupted by lookers-on.”

The aero-aquatic combination having been connected by cords, Mr Goodall took up his position on the windward bank, while Trigger went round to the opposite side to receive the air-ship, and, as one of the palace police was there in plain clothes, his services were accepted to assist Trigger when she crossed over, so nothing could have been more promising to the experimentalists, who looked like boys sailing their miniature cutters from side to side of a pond.

But, during the third spin, when the ardent aeronaut was intent on the working of his invention, two boats approached so as to afford the rowers a closer view of the attractive sight. In the first boat were two youths, who evidently knew how to use their sculls, but in the second boat a lady was standing up, eagerly watching the air-ship, which was moving so prettily over the water, whilst her companion, a fine-looking man, was pulling almost savagely to get ahead, when the two boats collided. For a moment the lady swayed to and fro, trying to regain her balance, then there was a splash and she had disappeared beneath the water.

Mr Goodall, who was on the side of the lake where the lady fell over, was expecting to see her reckless rower spring in to her assistance, but he either lost[13] his head or lacked the courage to do so. Goodall therefore, found himself instinctively divesting himself of his coat, shoes and hat, when he dashed in just in time to catch the lady by her hair as she rose to the surface, and here he held her, whilst the more spirited youths helped to take her into their boat; but the gentleman, who looked as if he were jealous of Mr Goodall’s prompt aid, rendered some tardy assistance at last by holding on to the side of the youths’ boat whilst the lady was being lifted in. She was immediately taken to the bank, where Trigger and the policeman came to the rescue. At this juncture, her companion became demonstratively active, while Trigger ran to the cricket ground refreshment stall and brought back something to restore the lady, who was not too far gone to perceive who had rescued her in the nick of time; but her feeble effort to express her gratitude to Mr Goodall

was checked by her now officious companion whose arm encircled her waist, whilst he ignored the aeronaut altogether, and seemed to take to himself the credit of having saved her.

With a smile at this effrontery, Mr Goodall went to see after his air-ship, which had got among the trees, and Trigger went to fetch his master’s clothes, which were on the opposite bank.

Meanwhile, the policeman advised that the lady should be taken in a cab to the Thicket Hotel, which[14] was not far off in the Anerley Road, and there she was seen to and provided with dry clothes by the landlady.