“I thought they looked like two of the party at the lake, sir.”
“Nothing of the sort,” cried the prisoner. “My master is a rich gentleman, and we came up by the Brighton line.”
“You must get to the bottom of this elsewhere,” said Mr Goodall.
“I shall be glad, sir,” said Warner, “if you could spare Trigger for a short time to state what he saw.”
“If anybody swears he saw me inside the room,” cried the intruder, “he will be a confounded—”
“Hush, my man, I insist upon it, you will only aggravate your case,” said Harry Goodall, “and now that I get a closer look at your face, didn’t I see you and a tall, dark man a day or two since in Trafalgar Square?”
“No, sir, it must have been someone else, sir.”
“I am sure it was not—however,” said Mr Goodall, turning to Warner, “he can’t stay here any longer. Remove him.”
Whilst Miss Chain and her mother were walking round, keeping within call of the aeronaut in case they were wanted, they observed a figure which seemed familiar to them pass by as he hurried down the grounds. He had on spectacles and a profusion of sandy-looking hair, which they took to be a wig, for he closely resembled the “shadow man” in his gait and walk. And when a reversible-looking coat flew open, as he hastily sped along, Mrs Chain exclaimed,—
“Look at that cable-laid watch chain, dear! How very like your father’s!”