“Don’t we hear a sound of wheels in the lower road?” asked the squire.
“Yes, I hear Trigger’s voice,” said Mr Goodall. “Run, two or three of you, my lads, and help in the bags.”
“There are three loads of sand in the barn,” said the squire, “and I suppose you will substitute your sand bags for these weights?”
“Yes, squire; I shall at first put the bags between the iron weights, so as to add a couple of tons more power—then, when we get a lull, I will take off the metal.”
“The wind drops, I fancy,” said the squire.
“It does a little, and that will enable some of us to fill the sacks. Bear a hand, Trigger, and go with Bennet into the barn where the sand is, but mind those guns, pistols and ammunition in the balloon car. The gamekeeper thought we should be prepared for a night attack. Show Tom where your air-gun is, Bennet.”
“You don’t expect any worse attack than we’re having, do you sir?” asked Trigger.
“I mean an assault by those rascals, who may be badly disposed towards us. A lot has happened since you have been away. I can tell you about it presently if this lull of the wind holds; however, get your bags filled and hooked on, in case of more fitful gusts,” said the aeronaut, and then, turning to Bennet, he continued,—“The squire has returned to the Hall to order down refreshments and to soothe the anxiety of the ladies.”
“We’ll soon bring the bags, Mr Goodall,” shouted the gamekeeper. “I’ll place the car and the firearms in a snug corner, sir.”
“Do so, but leave the firearms inside, Bennet, though I’ve no fear, in weather like this, that any persons with malicious intentions will hang about the park now after what has happened. They are more likely to be hovering about the coast, either at Newhaven, Folkestone or Dover, so as to clear out of the country.”