By-and-by they saw that people were running in the course of the balloon.
“Sing out, Tom,” said Mr Goodall, “and tell that fellow who is spearing eels to mind the trail of the grapnel—there he stands close to that person with spectacles.”
“Spectacles, sir? Oh, yes, I see him; they’re standing clear now.”
“All right, Tom, the grapnel is fast. I’ll let off gas as quickly as possible, and, as there are several men coming up, suppose you jump out; I’ve crippled her sufficiently for you to do so with safety.”
“But mind you keep an eye, sir, on that party with spectacles. Don’t you see who he is like?”
“All right, Tom; I’ve no time to notice resemblances just now, but I’ll keep an eye on the fellow, anyway.”
The eel-catcher was taken into Trigger’s confidence, with a promise of reward if he stuck to him on one side of the balloon, by pulling down the netting to drive out the gas, while Mr Goodall and another lot of men were drawing down on the other side. Whilst the men were doing this, Mr Goodall held on to the valve line to more quickly let out the gas, but as he did so he crouched down behind the car, so that the man with spectacles did not see him. In the meantime Trigger had placed the crown valve on the shoulders of two men to admit of the gas escaping more readily, and then went to the eel-spearer to give fresh instructions. Now, whilst everybody was gazing intently at the balloon, the man with spectacles went a little way off, took off his glasses, turned his coat which was a reversible one, and then sauntered slowly back. When Mr Goodall, who was still crouched down, noticed that his coat was quite another colour, and that, in fact, the fellow looked like another person, he became still more watchful of his movements. The man then went towards the crown of the balloon as it lay on the ground, and when the silk was not more than a few feet above the grass, the aeronaut saw the fellow strike a match under the pretence of lighting a cigarette, and then throw it, all ablaze, over the valve. Immediately a long lambent flame shot up to a height of several feet, when Trigger sang out to his master, but Mr Goodall had, directly he saw the match lighted, with great presence of mind, let go the valve line, when the shutters of the valve closed with a resonant flap; thus the flame was fortunately extinguished. Had this step not been taken with the quickness of thought, the entire silk would have been destroyed, and most likely Mr Goodall would have been burnt and other lives endangered.
Tom Trigger immediately flew towards the valve, followed by the fisherman and Mr Goodall, but fortunately no harm had been done, beyond a singeing to the wooden framework. Had it not been held up, however, the silk would have been fired, but Mr Goodall’s prompt release of the cord brought the two shutters so close to the frame that the explosion was prevented in the very nick of time.
“Where is that spectacled chap?” asked the eel-catcher. “He told me an hour ago that he was looking for a balloon which would come this way.”
“There he goes!” cried Mr Goodall, who knew him by his altered appearance.