Day began to break: a grey light in the north-east betokened the approaching dawn and the coming of fine weather. This latter circumstance was not pleasing to the self-constituted crew of the airship. He realized that with the falling of the wind the progress of the Zeppelin would naturally be retarded. His wish was to place as many miles betwixt himself and his prison isle as he could in the shortest possible time. He had counted upon that; but if hung up in the middle of the North Sea the airship stood a chance of recapture by German torpedo craft, or destruction by the guns of the Teutonic seaplanes, which he fully expected would be sent for that purpose.
The exhilaration of the pure air raised his already buoyant spirits. He felt as if he could dance a hornpipe even on the narrow girder on which he sat. Instead, he began to whistle, till the effort reminded him very forcibly of the pangs of hunger.
It was now light enough to see about him. He found himself just in front of the ruins of the after nacelle, that looked almost exactly like a railway carriage with the floor knocked out. Abaft were the remains of two of the propellers, with only one blade left intact. The alley way communicating with the midship and foremost cars was originally outside the outer aluminium envelope. This had been torn away for a length of nearly a hundred feet, only the longitudinal girders and a few vertical rods remaining.
Could the Sub successfully make his way over that intervening space he would be able to find ample floor space in and on each side of the central nacelle, that had practically escaped damage.
It would be a risky performance, but Hamerton decided to hazard it. It was like "laying along" the foreyard of a square-rigged ship, only without the footropes. Instead, there was the grip afforded by the still-holding aluminium stays, which, although more than an arm's-length apart, could be made good use of, provided the climber did not lose his balance when halfway between.
Standing upright upon the narrow metal track Hamerton mentally measured the distance to the nearmost upright rod. It was roughly about eight feet. In two rapid but deliberate strides he gained the first halting place of his short but hazardous journey. Two more stages gave him increased confidence, and the next thirty feet he negotiated with comparative ease, in spite of the gentle undulating motion of the aircraft.
Then came an absence of any support for his hands for a space of thrice the distance between those he had just passed. Beyond that the rest of the way would be easy, for several partially-rent plates, that at one time formed partitions of the envelope, still remained fixed to the girder.
"Neck or nothing," muttered the Sub. "Here goes!"
Three steps did he take, when his foot slipped. Vainly he tried to regain his balance; the sag of the badly-supported girder, combined with the swaying of the airship, prevented him from so doing, and with outstretched arm he fell sideways off the slender framework.
His left hand caught in the girder, the flat edge rasping the skin almost to the bone. His fingers gripped as only those of a man used to working aloft could do: once again his training on the old Britannia stood him in good stead.