The Taube was flying low and crookedly—the high crescendo whine of shell passed over it—heavy metal sent from German batteries—and other shells from British guns were crashing and bursting near. The wind was getting up in the west, and the drift of the machine was trending eastwards, in spite of anything Bawne could do. Could one keep flying long enough to pass the first line of British trenches? And how would one come to the ground, knowing nothing about landing—and with a bomb on board!
One must get rid of the devil-egg. Should one drop it on the enemy's trenches? As he flew towards them a rag of white fluttered, and Bawne caught his breath. A long line of grey-green men were jumping like grasshoppers over the parapet. They went forwards with their hands up, waving a White Flag, and from the British trenches came men in khaki doubling out to take their prisoners....
Rat-tat-tatt!
The khaki figures began to fall. The grey men were cheering.... The rat-tatt—came from the German machine-guns, pumping out jets of murderous lead. Then in a flash Bawne understood, leaned to the right, and seeing the machine-gun pit beneath him—pulled out the pin, jerked up the latch, and dropped the devil-egg. Horrible to think, it would kill Germans!—but then—to save one's own dear Englishmen——
"Good Night! Did you see that?" asked the pilot of the R.A.F.B.E., shutting off to address his observer, and immediately switching on again, for a geyser of earth and stones and fire, and bits of things that had been men and guns had spurted up from the spot where a moment since had been the gun-pit, and troubled waves of heated air reached them at 5000.
"He knows he's got to come down crash, and jettisoned the lollipop to improve his chances! ... Civil of him to drop it just when the Deershires were getting it hot and hot! ... Deserves thanks from the British C. in C., though his Kaiser won't be particularly pleased with him," reflected the R.F.C. observer, as the Taube, flying like a bird with a wounded wing, crossed the lines of the British trenches, dived staggeringly, and crashed down in the ploughed field behind the slogging guns.
CHAPTER LXIX
A MENACE; AND GOOD NEWS
Drip, drip! ...
The slow dropping of water on the carpet and the sweet, heavy fragrance of roses, brings me back as it brought Patrine. She got up and pulled down the dark blue blinds with the precaution that was becoming habitude with us at this date, in view of that often bragged-of menace from the sky. She switched up the lights and moved to the table, roughly pulled off the string that tied, and lifted the lid of the cardboard box.