“F. has baffled us, sir, up to the present time, but he is believed to be not far off. C. has escaped in a fishing-lugger. I saw him put off in a boat, but the French craft weighed anchor immediately and set sail, so that I could not overtake him.”
“I don’t know of whom you are speaking,” said Mr Strive, “but I saw a man put off to the lugger, and I noticed him particularly, as I saw at a glance that he was not a pilot from his gait, let alone what he carried. The little fellow had a black leather bag, not at all what a seaman would have owned. I was on the old battery fore-shore; he seemed to be afraid lest the sea should get into his bag.”
“I was too far off to notice that,” said Warner, “but I am sure he was Eben, Mr Goodall.”
“We have picked up important news, Tom,” said the aeronaut to Trigger.
“You’re just about right, sir,” said Tom.
“And you are ready to go along with us, Warner, just as you are?”
“I am fully prepared, sir, and have my warrants, handcuffs and dusting-irons in this bag, and am ready for one or both of them if we can see them on the other side, or overhaul them on the high seas.”
“Jump in, then, while Trigger puts out ballast equal to your weight. What do you scale, Warner?” asked Mr Goodall.
“About eleven stone, sir.”
“Then chuck out six sand bags, Tom, when I tell you, but, first, I should like to thank our friends here for their kind assistance.” Turning to them, he remarked “that they could do him one or two little favours if they would be so obliging.”