The Weathercock Part 25

Vane's lips parted, and he rested his elbows on the workbench, placed his chin in his hands, and gazed excitedly in his companion's face.

"And how do you think it will be done?"

"Ah, that's a difficult question to answer, boy. There is the problem to solve. All I say is, that if we have mastered the water and can contrive a machine that will swim like a fish--"

"But we have not," said Vane.

"Indeed! Then what do you call an Atlantic liner, with the propeller in its tail?"

"But that swims on the top of the water."

"Of course it does, because the people on board require air to breathe.

Otherwise it could be made to swim beneath the water as a fish does, and at twenty miles an hour."

"Yes: I did not think of that."

"Well, as we have conquered the water to that extent, I do not see why we should not master the air."

"We can rise in balloons."

"Yes, but the balloon is clumsy and unmanageable. It will not do."

"What then, sir?"

"That's it, my boy, what then? It is easy to contrive a piece of mechanism with fans that will rise in the air, but when tried on a large scale, to be of any real service, I'm afraid it would fail."

"Then why not something to fly like a bird or a bat?" said Vane eagerly.

"No; the power required to move the great flapping wings would be too weighty for it; and, besides, I always feel that there is a something in a bird or bat which enables it to make itself, bulk for bulk, the same weight as the atmosphere."

"But that seems impossible," said Vane.

"Seems, but it may not be so. Fifty years ago the man would have been laughed at who talked about sending a message to Australia and getting the answer back the same day, but we do not think much of it now. We would have thought of the Arabian Nights, and magicians, if a man had spoken to some one miles away, then listened to his tiny whisper answering back; but these telephonic communications are getting to be common business matters now. Why, Vane, when I was a little boy photography or light-writing was only being thought of: now people buy accurate likenesses of celebrities at a penny a piece on barrows in London streets."

Vane nodded.

"To go back to the flying," continued his companion, "I have thought and dreamed over it a great deal, but without result. I am satisfied, though, of one thing, and it is this, that some birds possess the power of gliding about in the air merely by the exercise of their will. I have watched great gulls floating along after a steamer at sea, by merely keeping their wings extended. At times they would give a slight flap or two, but not enough to affect their progress--it has appeared to me more to preserve their balance. And, again, in one of the great Alpine pa.s.ses, I have watched the Swiss eagle--the Lammergeyer--rise from low down and begin sailing round and round, hardly beating with his wings, but always rising higher and higher in a vast spiral, till he was above the mountain-tops which walled in the sides of the valley. Then I have seen him sail right away. There is something more in nature connected with flight, which we have not yet discovered. I will not say that we never shall, for science is making mighty strides. There," he added, merrily, "end of the lecture. Let's go out in the open air."

Vane sighed.

"I came from London, my boy, where all the air seems to be second-hand.

Out here on this slope of the wolds, the breeze gives one life and strength. Take me for a walk, out in the woods, say, it will do me good, and make me forget the worries and cares of life."

"Are you inventing something?"

Mr Deering gave the lad a sharp look, and nodded his head.

"May I ask what, sir?"

"No, my boy, you may not," said Mr Deering, sadly. "Perhaps I am going straightway on the road to disappointment and failure; but I must go on now. Some day you will hear. Now take me where I can breathe. Oh, you happy young dog!" he cried merrily. "What a thing it is to be a boy!"

"Is it?" said Vane, quietly.

"Yes, it is. And you, sir, think to yourself, like the blind young mole you are, what a great thing it is to be a man. There, come out into the open air, and let's look at nature; I get very weary sometimes of art."

Vane looked wonderingly at his new friend and did not feel so warmly toward him as he had a short time before, but this pa.s.sed off when they were in the garden, where he admired the doctor's fruit, waxed eloquent over the apples and pears, and ate one of the former with as much enjoyment as a boy.

He was as merry as could be, too, and full of remarks as the doctor's Jersey cow and French poultry were inspected, but at his best in the woods amongst the gnarled old oaks and great beeches, seeming never disposed to tire.

That night Mr Deering had a very long consultation with the doctor; and Vane noted that his aunt looked very serious indeed, but she said nothing till after breakfast the next morning, when their visitor had left them for town, and evidently in the highest spirits.

"Let that boy go on with his whims, doctor," he said aloud, in Vane's hearing. "He had better waste a little money in cranks and eccentrics than in toffee and hard-bake. Good-bye."

And he was gone as suddenly, so it seemed to Vane, as he had come.

It was then that Vane heard his aunt say:

"Well, my dear, I hope it is for the best. It will be a very serious thing for us if it should go wrong."

"Very," said the doctor drily; and Vane wondered what it might be.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

OILING THE CLOCK.

The plan of the town of Mavis Greythorpe was very simple, being one long street with houses on either side, placed just as the builders pleased.

Churchwarden Rounds' long thatched place stood many yards back, which was convenient, for he liked to grow roses that his neighbours could see and admire. Crumps the cowkeeper's, too, stood some distance back, but that was handy, for there was room for the cowshed and the dairy close to the path. Dredge, the butcher, had his open shop, too--a separate building from the house at the back--close to the path, where customers could see the mortal remains of one sheep a week, sometimes two, and in the cold weather a pig, and a half or third of a "beast," otherwise a small bullock, the other portions being retained by neighbouring butchers at towns miles away, where the animal had been slain. But at fair time and Christmas, Butcher, or, as he p.r.o.nounced it, b.u.t.tcher Dredge, to use his own words, "killed hissen" and a whole bullock was on exhibition in his open shop.

The houses named give a fair idea of the way in which architecture was arranged for in Mavis; every man who raised a house planted it where it seemed good in his own eyes; and as in most cases wayfarers stepped down out of the main street into the front rooms, the popular way of building seemed to have been that the builder dug a hole and then put a house in it.

Among those houses which were flush with the main street was that of Michael Chakes, clerk and s.e.xton, who was also the princ.i.p.al shoemaker of Mavis, and his place of business was a low, open-windowed room with bench and seat, where, when not officially engaged, he sat at work, surrounded by the implements and products of his trade, every now and then opening his mouth and making a noise after repeating a couple of lines, under the impression that he was singing. Upon that point opinions differed.

Vane Lee wanted a piece of leather, and as there was nothing at home that he could cut up, saving one of the doctor's Wellington boots, which were nearly new, he put on his cap, thrust his hands in his pockets, and set off for the town street, as eagerly as if his success in life depended upon his obtaining that piece of leather instanter.

The place was perfectly empty as he reached the south end, the shops looked nearly the same, save that at Grader the baker's there were four covered gla.s.ses, containing some tasteless looking biscuits full of holes; a great many flies, hungry and eager to get out, walking in all directions over the panes; and on the lowest shelf Grader's big tom-cat, enjoying a good sleep in the sun.

Vane did not want any of those biscuits, but just then he caught sight of Distin crossing the churchyard, and to avoid him he popped in at the baker's, to be saluted by a buzz from the flies, and a slow movement on the part of the cat who rose, raised his back into a high arch, yawned and stretched, and then walked on to the counter, and rubbed his head against Vane's b.u.t.tons, as the latter thrust his hands into his pocket for a coin, and tapped on the counter loudly once, then twice, then the third time, but there was no response, for the simple reason that Mrs Grader had gone to talk to a neighbour, and John Grader, having risen at three to bake his bread, and having delivered it after breakfast, was taking a nap.

"Oh, what a sleepy lot they are here!" muttered Vane, as he went to the door which, as there was no sign of Distin now, and he did not want any biscuits, he pa.s.sed, and hurried along the street to where Michael Chakes sat in his open window, tapping away slowly at the heavy sole of a big boot which he was ornamenting with rows of hob-nails.

Vane stepped in at once, and the s.e.xton looked up, nodded, and went on nailing again.

"Oughtn't to put the nails so close, Mike."

"Nay, that's the way to put in nails, Mester Vane!" said the s.e.xton.

"But if they were open they'd keep a man from slipping in wet and frost."