Arranged at each corner of the big grass-field was a powerful electric light sunk into the ground and covered with glass. These could be switched on from the house supply and, by means of reflectors, gave splendid guidance for descent. At present, however, all was, of course, in darkness.
The night was windless and overcast, while the barometer showed the atmospheric pressure to be exactly that welcomed by Commanders of enemy airships.
Ronnie after switching on his little light over the instruments and examining his gauges, shouted to Collins:
“Righto! Let her rip!”
In a moment there was a terrific roar. The wind whistled about their ears, and next second they were “zumming,” up climbing at an angle of quite thirty degrees, instead of “taxi-running” the machine before leaving the ground.
Not a star showed, neither did a light. At that hour the good people of Essex were mostly in bed.
On their right, as they rose, Beryl noticed one or two red and green lights of railway signals, but these faded away as they still climbed ever up and up, travelling in the direction of the coast. The roar of the engines was deafening, until they approached a faintly seen cluster of lights which, by the map spread before him beneath the tiny light, Ronnie knew was the town of B——. Then he suddenly pulled a lever by which the noise instantly became so deadened that the whirr of the propeller alone was audible, the engines being entirely silenced.
The young man, speaking for the first time, exclaimed:
“We’ll first run along the coast and scout, and then turn back inland.”
Scarcely had he uttered those words when suddenly they became blinded by a strong searchlight from below.