“Oh, dear no, I am quite sure there were not.”
“How now, Lucy?” asked the squire, as the maid entered with a letter.
“It is from the harbour-master at Newhaven, sir. Shall the man wait for an answer?”
“Yes, by all means. This is what he writes,” said the squire:—
“‘I am glad to say that the detective from Sydenham and Wedwell Hall has been on the lookout for the two men wanted. One was seen to go on board a foreign vessel which was lying off the port. He was a little man, but had a bag with him. Have you dispatched a balloon from the park? If so, it is going across the Channel splendidly; it made a temporary halt at Bishopstone. Please reply.’
“Yes, certainly I will, and thank our friend at Newhaven for such very welcome news.”
“Welcome news, papa?”
“Why not, Edith, it is far more reassuring than the doctor’s version. What say you, Miss Chain?”
“It accords with Mr Goodall’s views as to the competency of his balloon.”
“Just so,” cried the squire. “I regard it as a promising instalment of good news, and shall look for better in the morning.” Then turning to Lucy, the squire said,—“Tell the bearer that if he will sit down I’ll speak with him.”