Then Gwenna felt the tip and creak of the machine, as Paul climbed into his place behind her.
André dashed up to grasp his hand, calling "Bonne chance!"
"Thanks!" said Paul. "Right away."
Then, as the propeller pulsed like an angry nerve, Gwenna gave a start.
An appalling roar and wind seemed all about her. Faintly, very faintly, the noise of the good-bye cheer rose through it. The hat-waving group of men with wide-open mouths seemed to slide back. The Aeroplane bumped over the rough field. And then it ceased to bump. Gwenna drew in her breath, sharply. To right of her, to left of her, the horizon seemed to sway ever so gently. She thought, but was not sure, that she heard Paul's voice behind her, bawling, "Trim."
As she settled herself in her seat, the horizon fell away altogether.... All was sunlit blue! The swiftest run in the motor down the smoothest bit of hill had been nothing to this that was coming; faster, faster....
"There's only one pity," she thought hastily. "He's thinking now that I let him go without saying good-bye!"
Here she had a glimpse of the khaki-green earth far below, as blurred with height and speed as was the raving invisible propeller itself.
For at last—at last—it was flight!