"You did, eh?" exclaimed the baronet, sharply. "What sort of man?"
"You'll see him, sir," replied Kenneth. "He's laid out below."
"H'm!" ejaculated Fosterdyke, and relapsed into silence.
He was deep in thought for some moments, then turned to Kenyon again.
"We're making an official start in a few minutes' time," he announced. "We have to pass over the Rock and display three red and three white lights to the official observer on Signal Hill. When we see a similar signal made from the Rock that will be the actual starting time. Pass the word for Jackson to get the lamps in position."
At an altitude of three thousand feet, or fifteen hundred feet above the summit of the Rock of Gibraltar, the "Golden Hind" received her official send-off at 3.35 A.M., eighteen hours after the Hun-owned Z64.
Evidently there was not a minute to be wasted. The contest had developed not merely into a voyage round the world within the space of twenty days, but a race in which the British competitor had to make good her formidable handicap of eighteen hours or approximately three thousand five hundred miles.
With the wind abeam on the port side the "Golden Hind" opened out to one hundred and forty miles an hour. During the earlier stages of the race Fosterdyke rather wisely decided to keep below the maximum speed, rather than overtax the motors by running "all out." Within a few minutes of receiving her official permit to depart the airship lost sight of the lights upon the Rock of Gibraltar. She was now steering E. by S.--a course that would take her over the northern part of Algeria and Tunis and within a few miles of Malta.
At 4 A.M. Kenyon, who had modestly refrained from giving any details of the part he had taken in the rescue of Enrico Jaures, and had concealed the fact that he had been temporarily out of action, was relieved by Peter Bramsdean.
As he turned to go to his cabin Kenneth saw that the baronet was standing in a corner of the navigation-room and studying a nautical almanac.