"Hasten," ordered the sergeant more than once, but Hamerton paid scant heed. He was resolved not to retard the healing of his hand by unnecessary haste, since he might even yet have an opportunity of eluding his captors.
The fragments of the prepared cotton from the fireproof Zeppelin he still retained in his shoes, but the steel spike which had served him so well had been discovered and taken away by his jailers soon after his recapture.
"Roll your blankets," ordered the non-commissioned officer gruffly. You are to take them with you."
"Evidently I am off on a long journey," thought the Sub at this stage of the proceedings. "What's up now, I wonder? Judging by the elaborate alterations they have made to my quarters I thought they meant to keep me here for a very long time."
"March!" ordered the sergeant, pointing to the door. "No tricks, mind. Our rifles are loaded."
Along the corridor, down the steps, and out into the open the file of marines conducted their prisoner. Then the gates in the outer wall were thrown open, and the Sub found himself in the street.
Turning sharp to the left the party marched along the broad, even road leading towards the Zeppelin station. It did not take them long to arrive at the barbed-wire fence. Hamerton could not help contrasting the time it took with the tedious, cautious crawl over that very ground only a few nights before.
Here the marines were challenged by a sentry. The sergeant advanced, whispered the password, and received permission to proceed.
A large extent of the fence had been levelled, and over the barbed wire were placed the metal coverings Hamerton had noticed during his tour of investigation.
Down the familiar incline the Sub was hurried, till the marines halted within twenty yards of the circular expanse out of which opened the caves for the giant aircraft.