As he gazed there was what looked like the sudden opening of a flaming fire below, and the searchlights went out as if a giant had snuffed a monstrous candle.
Then came the report, booming upward through the air.
“Aha! Zere are some Germans below zere who will not do zee mischief more!” exclaimed the Frenchman with vicious satisfaction.
But his congratulations to himself were premature.
Again the light of the Zeppelin enveloped them. The glare seemed like a warm bath of all-revealing light. There was a flash and then the shriek of a projectile as the aeroplane dipped under the glow of the light. Then came the boom of the report.
“Zey ought to learn to shoot,” muttered de Garros.
“Thank heaven they can do no better than they are,” rejoined Jack.
“Now we show zem zee clean pair of heels and run away,” said de Garros.
“I’m glad to hear that. I couldn’t stand much more of this,” thought Jack.
“If I was alone, or had an officer wiz me, we go above zat Zeppelin high in zee air and blow him up,” announced de Garros cheerfully, after a minute or two. “Ah! zey get us again. Peste!”