Dave blinked to drive away the tears that filled his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, there was nothing but darkness beyond the charged wire. Pierre Deschaud had gone back to his boat. Dave felt Freddy's hand groping for his. He gripped it and squeezed hard.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Wings Of The R.A.F.
When the new dawn was but a faint streak low down in the east, the sound of a hundred airplane engines being kicked into life suddenly shattered the stillness of the surrounding countryside. The two boys lying flat on their stomachs side by side started violently, then looked at each other and grinned.
"This is almost it!" Dave whispered. "Let's start worming closer. We've got to grab a ship before anybody else gets in the air. Here in the grass, we could easily be spotted from the air."
"You're right!" Freddy whispered back. "And I'm sure whoever saw your uniform and my suit would jolly well land at once to find out what was what. Right-o. Forward we go."
Like two human snakes, the boys wiggled forward through the tall grass until they were but a few feet from the edge of the close cut, level flying field. Through the grass ahead they could see the row of Messerschmitt One-Nines, and One-Tens. And as luck would have it, a Messerschmitt One-Ten was the ship nearest them. It was not more than thirty yards away at the most. Dave nudged Freddy and pointed.
"Just what the doctor ordered!" he breathed. "A One-Ten with plenty of room for two. Hot dog! Hoped I'd get a crack at flying a One-Ten some day. Or do you want to do the flying?"
Freddy smiled and shook his head and touched the pocket of his jacket where he kept Pierre Deschaud's detailed report of the Nazi invasion plans.