“There was an explosion, squire, and he was blown into a horse pond, where his wig and beard came off.”
“What next shall we hear of? Quite a mountebank performance, I suppose,” said the squire, with a loud laugh.
“Something that way. It was thought, squire, Professor Scudder was shot into a clump of trees, and had a narrow escape.”
“May I ask your gamekeeper how long since this affair came off?” asked the aeronaut.
“Barely a fortnight since, sir,” said Bennet.
“Soon after I alighted on the Essex Marsh,” observed Harry Goodall to Captain Link, suggestively.
CHAPTER XIII
THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT
“Now, Bennet,” said the squire, as they left the hall, “will the balloon lift us?”
“Oh, yes, squire, the pilot says she has plenty of power.”
“That’s all right. I ought to have told you, gentlemen, that we have large works near the park lane which can supply more gas if it is required. How much can we spare, Bennet?”