"Look!" shrieked Lesbia, almost hurling herself out of the door. "They've got one of them! I can see it blazing!"
Far away, a red spot began to glow, then suddenly revealed the cigar-shaped form in flames, dropping downwards.
"They've got it!" echoed Trevellyan. "Look! it's coming down. Miles away, by this time. I wonder how many of ours are giving chase."
The air was full of whirring, buzzing wings, and very far away a red light in the sky seemed to tell of fire.
Occasional sparks and flashes told of the bursting of shrapnel, but the sounds were dying away rapidly.
"It's over, and, by Jove, we've got him!" shouted Trevellyan, dashing back into the kitchen. Every one was talking at once, Mrs. Willoughby's voice dominating the rest.
"I saw the whole thing too perfectly! At least five of the brutes, and two, if not three, of them in flames! I saw them with my own eyes!" she proclaimed, with more spirit than exactitude. "And where are those poor creatures hiding like rats in the cellar?"
"The noise was awful!" said Tony, shuddering. "It felt as though it were right over our heads. But," she added valiantly, "I do wish we'd seen it all!"
Trevellyan turned to her apologetically. "I'm so sorry. But I really couldn't help it. They sent me down on purpose to see that this place was warned. It was really perfectly splendid of you to go down like that and miss all the fun."
"I was very frightened," she told him honestly, "though I do awfully wish I'd seen it. They must have had a splendid view from the Hostel at the top of the street."