With the greatest caution he opened his door and, creeping down on tiptoe, was soon outside in the village street; keeping beneath the deep shadows, he went forward on the road which led up the hill to the long belt of trees near which had been erected the corrugated iron shed.
Meanwhile Ronald, accompanied by Beryl, had ascended higher and higher in the darkness. Ronnie had swung the machine into the wind, and they were climbing, climbing straight into the dark vault above. Below were twinkling shaded lights, some the red and green signal lights of railways. Beryl could see dimly the horizon of the world, and used as she was to it, she realised how amazing it was to look down upon Mother Earth. By day, when one is flying, the sky does not rise and meet in a great arch overhead, but, like a huge bowl, the sky seems to pass over and incircle the earth.
They were flying due east by the dimly lit compass at five thousand feet, heading straight for the Essex coast.
“We may possibly have visitors from Belgium to-night,” laughed Ronnie, as he turned to his well-beloved. “But look! Why—we are already over the sea!”
Beryl, gazing down, saw below a tiny light twinkling out a message in Morse, answered by another light not far distant. Two ships were signalling. Then Ronnie made a wide circle in that limitless void which obliterated the meeting point of earth and sea.
The long white beam of a searchlight sweeping slowly seaward, turned back inland and followed them until it picked up “The Hornet,” Ronnie banking suddenly to show the tri-coloured circles upon his wings.
Afterwards he again consulted his compass and struck due south, following the coast-line over Harwich and round to the Thames estuary.
“No luck to-night, dearest!” laughed Ronnie. “The barometer is too low for our friends.”
“Yes,” said the girl. “Let us get back!” And Ronnie once more circled his machine very prettily, showing perfect mastery over it, as he came down lower and lower until, when passing over Felixstowe, he was not more than three hundred feet in the air.
Meanwhile, the guest at the King’s Head had made the most of his time. He had reasoned, and not without truth, that if “The Hornet” had ascended, the mechanic, Collins, would no doubt leave the hangar, and, if so, that now would be a good opportunity to obtain entrance.