At the promise of liberty Enrico plucked up courage. He had a wholesome respect for the word of an Englishman.
The document was in the form of a confession, stating that Enrico Jaures had agreed, for a certain sum promised by Count Karl von Sinzig, to hinder, either by crippling or destroying the "Golden Hind," Sir Reginald Fosterdyke's attempt to fly round the world.
"I'll sign," said Enrico.
He wrote his name. Kenyon and Trefusis witnessed the signature.
The baronet folded the document and placed it in his pocket.
"Now you can go," he said.
"But how am I to return to Gibraltar?" asked Jaures.
"That's your affair," replied Fosterdyke, sternly. "You ought to be thankful you're still alive. Now go."
At the first sign of dawn the Australian farmer, true to his word, arrived with a large motor-lorry piled with filled petrol cans. He was not alone. The seemingly sparsely-populated district now teemed with people. Hundreds must have seen the "Golden Hind" pass overhead the previous evening, but how they discovered the airship's temporary anchorage was a mystery. There were townsmen in motorcars, sturdy farmers on motor-cycles, waggons, and carts, backwoodsmen on bicycles and on foot. Even the "sun-downer" class were represented.
The "Golden Hind" had just completed her preparations for flying back to Fremantle aerodrome when a motor-cyclist rode up and handed Fosterdyke a telegram.