“This is Mr. Oliphant, Lord Langside’s son,” Tom went on.
“Indeed!” With fine courtesy Sir Mark perfectly concealed his amazement. Oliphant still wore his stoker’s clothes, and the black smudges on his face had given him a striking resemblance to a coal-heaver. “I am grateful to the Prime Minister for this novel and adventurous expedition,” added the envoy.
“My father knows nothing about it, sir,” said Oliphant. “We were afraid he wouldn’t allow it if we told him.”
“I see. Nothing succeeds like success. Did you come all the way from England in this admirable machine?”
“No, sir. We were brought out on Mr. Greatorex’s yacht, which is now waiting for us at the shore.”
“That is good news, for in truth, seeing the limited carrying capacity of your airship, I had wondered how we were all to get away.”
“That’s our difficulty, sir. Our fuel is almost gone, and I’m very much afraid there isn’t enough left to make even one journey back to the yacht. There’s plenty on board, if we can manage to reach it.”
“In that case perhaps you and Mr. Oliphant had better return without us. If you reach the yacht safely, you can come back and fetch us; if you do not—well, things will be no worse than they were.”
“I don’t care about doing that, sir. We came out to rescue you. I think you had better come with us. Our fuel may last out; the sooner you are safe aboard the yacht the better; and if we only get within sight of her it will be all right, for Mr. Greatorex will certainly send a boat’s crew to fetch us off.”
“Had you not better take Mr. Schwab first? He has been in captivity longer than I.”