The wires and despatch-riders were busy that day between the Command Headquarters and the Aerodrome. Plans were drawn up to destroy at an early date both the airships and the sheds. After some consideration, it was decided that "B" Flight should have the honour of carrying out the raid, and accordingly Dastral and Jock went to work at once with their maps and charts to evolve a thoroughly sound plan of campaign.
Several days later, towards evening, another coded message from the same secret service agent behind the lines came to hand by carrier pigeon, which when decoded ran something as follows:
"Two Zeppelins just left Brussels' sheds, travelling west-nor'-west!"
"Send Flight-Commander Dastral to me at once," said the Squadron-Commander, immediately the message was read to him.
As soon as Dastral appeared the O.C., who had been pacing about his little room, turned abruptly upon the pilot, and said,
"See this, Dastral?"
"Yes, sir," replied the youth, scanning the brief message, which told him so much.
"You know what it means?"
"It evidently means that a raid on London is imminent, and is being carried out to-night, I fancy, sir."
"Exactly!" snapped the O.C., who at such times became easily fractious and irritated.