With them was one of the civil staff of the War Office. Blake eyed him with a grim smile, for he was the man who had been so prominent in cold-shouldering the inventor but a few months previously.
"Yes, we should like to witness a flight," replied Sir Henry in answer to Blake's proposition. "This ability to ascend almost perpendicularly must be a unique, I might say, rather ingenious property. No, I don't think I will accompany you this trip... another time, perhaps."
One by one the staff officers filed through the aperture in the floor of the fuselage and descended to the ground, amidst the plaudits of the crowd. The civilian official was the last to leave, when Blake touched him on the shoulder.
"You remember me?" he asked.
"Of course, of course I do," replied the man pompously. "I never forget faces. You will doubtless recollect that during our former interview I expressed my opinion——"
"That an ounce of fact is worth a pound of theory," rejoined Blake. "In the circumstances the remark was uncalled for."
"But in my position one has to look for results," stammered the man nervously, for Blake had fixed him with that disconcerting look that had so effectually cowed the spy.
"The result is here," declared the inventor. "You are now going to accompany us for a spin. You are not afraid?"
If he were afraid the official was doubly afraid to admit it. He nodded his head.
"Good!" exclaimed Blake approvingly, as he closed the hatchway at his feet. "Start her up, Dick. Open the exhaust full out. A little noise will shift the crowd."