"Might I inquire what it is that troubles you?" said Dennis, as they walked towards the door of a little restaurant with green-painted chairs and tables outside it.
"Oh, it is too bad!" exclaimed his new acquaintance with a despairing shrug of his shoulders. "I brought down a German Aviatik this afternoon, and by the greatest good luck in the world it is absolutely unhurt. To-night I had planned a little expedition across into the enemy's country, a friendly visit to a Zeppelin shed, whose existence none of our fellows are aware of. I have overhauled the engines myself; I have got ten beautiful bombs all ready, and now my observer has broken his arm, and I cannot find anyone to assist me."
Dennis looked at him with a pair of twinkling eyes.
"Could you be certain of returning to this village by eight o'clock in the morning?" he said eagerly, "for I am to meet General Joffre here at that hour. I hold an English pilot's certificate from the Hendon school."
"Embrassons nous! (let us embrace), my dear friend!" exclaimed Claude Laval. "I am now the happiest man in all France. Listen! The machine is at the edge of the wood not a kilometre from this spot, and the Zeppelin hangar is in the centre of the Black Forest. Come, let us eat something and drink a bottle of the good red wine. We will give the Boche a fine surprise, and I swear to bring you back in plenty of time for Father Joffre in the morning. Martique, remember, not a word to a living soul, and come you to the café with us; you can attend to that sewing-machine of yours after monsieur and I have gone on our little trip."
They dined in the open air, and the meal was a joyous one, Lieutenant Claude Laval keeping a keen eye on the sinking sun at the same time.
As the red rim dipped into the jagged line of dark poplars on a low ridge to westward Laval called for the bill, lit his pipe, and rose with an air of supreme indifference for the benefit of the groups of other officers at the adjoining tables, but his eyes spoke to Dennis as they walked away into the shadow of the trees.
"Now, lieutenant," he said, with a fierce thrill of exultation in his voice, "you know, of course, that old scoundrel, Count Zeppelin, stole the idea of his invention during the war of '70. We will see if we can't get a little of our own back to-night!"