"And this is an illegal arrest," added Dacres.
"Maybe," retorted the man coolly. "Anyway, it isn't our pigeon. You can argue that out with the governor. Quick march, you men."
Two of Dacres' captors faced about with military precision; two more formed up behind him, while the spokesman kept in the rear. In this order, and like an escort marching a deserter through the streets, the men set off through the wood.
Presently they emerged into a circular clearing, measuring roughly two hundred yards in diameter. The ground was covered with grass mown as short and as evenly as a cricket pitch, while at equal distances were five lofty wooden sheds, their fronts level with the surrounding forest and extending backwards into the dense masses of trees. In front of each of these buildings a red lamp was burning brightly.
"Can we get him across to the house before——?" whispered one of Dacres' captors.
"Yes, if we hurry. No, we can't, by Jupiter! There she is."
Overhead, its extremities hidden by the lofty tree tops, was a huge cylindrical object. In a moment the truth flashed across Dacres' mind. The mysterious airship was returning to its place of concealment, and he was the first outsider to stumble upon its secret hiding-place.
"Remember your promise," hissed the leader of the men. "This is a mess. I'll have something to answer for. Come on, you chaps."
Followed by three of his companions the man bounded across the open space. Dacres' remaining captor touched him on the shoulder.
"Get back," he ordered.