As soon as they were comfortably seated, the aeronaut said,—
“Let up steadily, please, squire.”
“All right, the pilot and plenty of hands are in attendance.”
The view Miss Dove had of the park and Wedwell Hall by the light of the moon was unexpectedly gratifying, but owing to the lady visitor’s attack of hysteria, Edith was more thoughtful and less appreciative of the silvery-lighted scenery than she otherwise would have been; still, her remarks of delight were heard below, and her friends declared that this was the most striking ascent that had been made, for the people cheered and gave Miss Dove quite an ovation. But just when the pilot and Bennet had commenced to wind down the balloon, a report from a gun was heard, which appeared to have been discharged from a neighbouring plantation—and as the flash was seen just within the borders of the plantation, people hardly knew what to make of the affair, especially as a hat was seen directly afterwards to fall from the balloon.
Bennet, thinking that it was the accidental discharge of a poacher’s gun, rushed up a bye-path leading to the lane, followed by a local policeman and a stranger, who had not long arrived from Lewes, and who was said to be a detective named Warner.
As the balloon came near the ground, something was seen to be wrong, for Miss Dove appeared very excited, and the aeronaut had drawn a scarf over his head; but he asked the squire to help Miss Dove out of the car, when she stepped aside and whispered something to her father. The captain, looking very serious, told Trigger to place some men in the car, as they got out, then he offered to assist the aeronaut to dismount, but the aeronaut said, as if nothing was amiss, that he did not want any help, though the squire and Miss Dove, who had now reappeared, could perceive that blood was flowing down his face.
“Do, papa,” cried the anxious young lady, “insist upon his going up to the Hall with us in the carriage.”
“Yes, take my arm and do so,” said the squire; “and you accompany us, captain.”
Trigger followed them to the door of the carriage, having his master’s hat in his hand, and pointed to a hole in it; but the aeronaut smiled and said,—
“You are really making much ado about nothing; it is a mere graze on the head. Don’t, pray, feel alarmed.”