“Do you think the balloon in any danger should a storm arise?” asked Edith.
“Indeed, I do not,” replied the aeronaut, confidently, “for it is strong and sound.”
“The sky has certainly a darkened aspect,” said Miss Dove.
“It has,” replied the aeronaut; “but there will be time before nightfall to take extra precautions, and I shall personally see to it, as Trigger is away, and I perceive the barometer is falling.”
They found the balloon in such a state of repose that the watchers strolled leisurely around it, but Bennet and his staff of assistants were at hand and promised that, if there was any important change during dinner, he would advise them.
“Then come along,” cried the squire, “for it is for once in a way past our regular time, and all seems so quiet that we had better make the most of our time.”
At dinner there was an artificial show of composure about the little party of four, for their thoughts naturally kept reverting to the robbery, while the strange stillness had by no means a soothing effect on the nerves. Presently there came a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a heavy peal of thunder, then a second larger flame of forked fluid descended with an alarming roll of fearful reverberations among the leaden clouds.
“I must go down,” said the aeronaut, pointing through the windows to a shower of leaves, which had been blown from the trees. “There is a strong wind rising. It’s that I dread, not the lightning.”
Goodall was accompanied by his host to the door, and as a rattling shower of rain was pouring down, the aeronaut was provided with a mackintosh, umbrella and wrap, and away he ran, while the squire ordered a closed trap to be got ready, and soon followed his young friend.
When Harry Goodall reached his balloon, he found that Bennet and his helps had attached extra weights to the net-work, but the silken globe was now greatly agitated and swerving to and fro, presenting a remarkable contrast to the tranquil condition in which he found it before dinner.