Further progress was impeded by a barbed wire fence upon which he blundered with disastrous results to his trousers and coat sleeves. The pain caused by one of the spikes cutting his wrist made him utter an exclamation of annoyance.
Simultaneously a bell began to tinkle faintly. The men's voices ceased.
Dacres paid scant heed to these ominous warnings. His one desire was to get into touch with human beings once more. Standing upon the lowermost wire and holding upon the one above, he wriggled adroitly through the fence, then hurried through the wood, half expecting to find himself upon the road.
But no highway rewarded his efforts. Pine trunk after pine trunk he passed until it began to occur to him that he was in danger of being lost in a wood, which was as undesirable as being adrift in the midst of a foggy moorland.
He paused. All was quiet.
"I'll give a shout," he thought, but before he could raise his voice there was a sudden scuffling to the right and left of him and a deep voice exclaimed:—
"Collar him, lads. He's one of them."
CHAPTER VII.
THE RETURN OF THE AIRSHIP.
IT was no time for explanation. Dacres could just discern the outlines of two men in the act of springing upon him. At this uncalled-for outrage is blood was up. He would resist first and explain afterwards.