"Yes, I see it now," replied his comrade, bringing his glasses to bear on the object for which he had been keenly searching for some minutes.
"Straight road now. Give her a few more points eastward."
Dastral altered the controls a little, and, banking slightly, the hornet came round smartly upon her new course, which, for the rest of the journey to the coast, was almost due east.
The continuous roar of the engines and the whir-r-r of the propeller made conversation almost impossible, except for a few short, jerky sentences, uttered in a loud, shrill voice, and accompanied by corresponding gestures.
The world beneath them was waking up now, for the two aviators could see the smoke ascending from the chimneys of a few scattered farmhouses and cottages. The birds, too, were astir, and the larks, mounting up towards the sun, made sweet music which was drowned in the whir-r-r of that strange-looking bird of prey, which sailed serenely above them. Instinct, however, made the songsters shrink and flee away from that hawk-like menace with stretched-out wings, for they evidently feared that it might swoop down upon and destroy them.
"Dover!" shouted the observer suddenly, as the Cinque Port came into view.
"Yes, by Jove! So it is. I hope they won't turn the guns of the fort upon us."
"No fear. They'll have been warned of our coming by now."
A minute later, they opened out the sea, the forts, and Shakespeare's Cliff, and within another three minutes they had crossed the boundary of sea and land, and at a tremendous altitude were gliding over the Channel.
"Nine thousand!" yelled Dastral, turning his head towards Jock, after casting a brief glance at his indicator.