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Updated: June 12, 2025
A figure slipped gently past her on the grass, but she utterly failed to notice it. "An exceedingly nice girl, that," Littimer was saying, "and distinctly amusing. Excuse me if I leave you here a tendency to ague and English night air don't blend together." It was the very moment that Henson had been waiting for. All his listlessness had vanished.
"My dear Enid, you misjudge me," he said. "But I shall get justice some day." Enid replied that she fervently hoped so, and thus the strange meal proceeded with smiles and gentle words from Henson, and a wild outburst of bitterness from the girl. So far as she was concerned the servants might have been mere automatons. The dust rose in clouds as the latter moved silently.
Osborne, two gentlemen well known for scientific acquirement, and especially for the interest they have exhibited in the progress of ærostation. The project, at the desire of Mr. Mason, Mr. Holland, Sir Everard Bringhurst, and Mr. Mr. Henson, accompanied by his friend Mr.
Henson, bookseller, Market Deeping. This accomplished, he started off in a trot to the post-office at Stamford. On the road, new doubts and scruples came fluttering through his mind. Was it not a foolish act, after all, that he, a poor labourer, the son of a pauper, should risk a pound of his hard earnings in the attempt to publish a book? Would not the people laugh at him?
Cayley had shown, in 1809, how success might be attained by developing the idea of the plane surface so driven as to take advantage of the resistance offered by the air, and Henson, who as early as 1840 was experimenting with model gliders and light steam engines, evolved and patented an idea for something very nearly resembling the monoplane of the early twentieth century.
"Of course Henson pretends to condemn all this kind of thing," Littimer said. "He would have you believe that when he comes into his own the plate and wine will be sold for the benefit of the poor, and the seats of the mighty filled with decayed governesses and antiquated shop-walkers." "I hope that time may long be deferred," Henson murmured.
He unrolled the paper before Enid's astonished eyes. Margaret Henson glanced at it listlessly; she was fast sinking into the old, strange oblivion again. But Enid was all rapt attention. "I would have sworn to that as Lord Littimer's own," she gasped. "It is his own," Bell replied. "Stolen from him and a copy placed by some arch-enemy in my portmanteau, it was certain to be found on the frontier.
He will come creeping down here on those large flat feet of his, and that cunning brain will take in everything like a flash. Good dog!" A hound in the distance growled, and then another howled mournfully. It was the plaint of the beast who has found his quarry, impatient for the gaoler to arrive. So long as that continued Henson was safe. Any attempt to escape, and he would be torn to pieces.
"Absolutely certain. I went to the hospital and identified him." "Then there is no more to be said on that point. But you were foolish to tell Reginald." "Not a bit of it. Why, Henson has known it all along. You needn't get excited. He is a deep fellow, and nobody knows better than he how to disguise his feelings.
"I am deeply sorry to hear it," she whispered. "Perhaps the lady in question was reticent for your sake. Perhaps she had confided more thoroughly in good men before. And suppose those good men had disappeared?" "In other words, that they had been murdered. Who by?" There was a snarl from one of the hounds hard by, and a deep, angry curse from Henson. Enid pointed solemnly in his direction.
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