“I have only a few miles to go—to Sleaford. My sister lives just outside the town, and there is a splendid landing-place in her husband’s grounds,” Beryl explained, when at last the engine ran smoothly again.
It was but natural that the good-looking lieutenant should appear inquisitive regarding the new machine. His expert eye showed him the unusual power of the twin engines, and he expressed much surprise at several new inventions that had been introduced.
He told her that he had been flying for seven months at the Front, and had been sent home for a rest. He had flown from Farnborough that morning and was making a “non-stop” to the Humber.
Many were the questions he put to Beryl regarding “The Hornet.” So many and so pressing were his queries that presently she became seized by distrust—why, she could not exactly decide.
The air-pilot naturally inquired as to the biplane’s constructor, but all Beryl would say was:
“It is not mine. It belongs to a friend of mine.”
“A gentleman friend, of course?” he remarked, with a mischievous laugh.
“Of course! He himself invented it.”
“A splendid defence against Zeppelins,” he said. “I see she can carry ten bombs, a searchlight, and a Lewis gun. All are wanted against the Kaiser’s infernal baby-killers,” he added, laughing.
Then, having thoroughly examined “The Hornet,” the courteous lieutenant of the Royal Flying Corps stood by until she had again risen in the air, waved her gloved hand in farewell, made a circle over the field, and then headed away for Sleaford.