"... we pray Thee to give thy Fatherly protection to us and to our Allies on land, on the sea, and in the air."
The drone of a biplane two thousand feet overhead served as a fitting accompaniment to the invocation. It reminded the budding airmen that ere long they, too, would fall within this category of suppliants for Divine protection. Soon they would be tasting of the joys and perils of flying; of life, perhaps of death, in that domain that was every day becoming more and more under the sway of man.
"Parade—caps on! March off!"
The morning ceremonial was over.
"No. 4 Flight: move to the right in fours. Form fours—right! Left wheel—quick march!"
It was not until the cadets were marched to a remote corner of the vast parade-ground and ordered to stand easy that Daventry turned to his chum.
"You got through that all right, old man," he observed. "The Captain didn't spot your missing button."
"Didn't he, by Jove?" replied Kaye, a broad smile overspreading his features. "He did—but he couldn't say a word. He'd a button missing himself. What's the move now?"
"Medical inspection, and then our first flight," replied Derek.