They reached the bridge, and stood for a few minutes gazing down into the foaming waters. Presently Jim held out his hand:
"Au revoir," he said quietly. And he lowered his voice for a moment. "Next time we meet I hope I shall have a marriage licence in my pocket."
"Au revoir, my lover," she whispered. "Remember, whatever happens, I'm yours and only yours: ready to follow you to the end of the world."
He took off his hat, kissed her hand, then nodding cheerily, he strode away. She watched him out of sight. He was risking his life, his honour, his reputation, for her sake. If he failed, she knew she would never see him again.
CHAPTER XXII.
JIM STARTS OFF.
The great plain stretched away in the sunlight, broken only by the silver line of the little Avon river and the Downs—like giant molehills—to the north.
It was early morning, but all was activity and bustle at Netheravon.
The great rows of "hangars" gleaming in the bright sunshine were already open, and groups of men—mechanics and cleaners—were busy on the aeroplanes they contained.
A group of officers of the Royal Flying Corps was gathered around a monoplane that had been run outside, and was being tuned up by a number of mechanics.