"Beg pardon, sir, but—"
"Oh, here's your money," cried Smith, handing him a crown-piece. "Be quick. By the way, can you lend me two or three men for half-an-hour or so at five shillings an hour?"
"Right you are, sir," was the reply. "I'm one; I'll get you a couple more in no time. Be there as soon as you, sir."
Smith hurried away. On reaching the farm he found that Rodier and the farmer were engaged in a friendly conversation, by the light of a carriage lamp which flickered wanly in the mist.
"Wonderful machine, sir," said the farmer, whom Rodier had talked out of his ill-humour. "Your man has been showing me over it, as you may say, leastways as well as he could in this fog."
"We must get her out at once," rejoined Smith. "Some men are coming up. We must get on to-night."
"Good sakes! that's impossible. She lies right athwart the fence, and you'll have to rig a crane to lift her."
"The fence must come down. I'll pay."
"But drat it all—"
"Look here, farmer, it's got to be done. Here are the men; just oblige me by showing them a light at the fence, and set them to take down enough of it to free the aeroplane—carefully; I don't want it smashed. There's a sovereign on account; you shall have a cheque for the rest when you send in the bill."