“The Department have decided to adopt it!” he announced triumphantly to Beryl as he entered the long, old-fashioned stone hall, and hung up his overcoat.
“I knew they would, dear!” cried the enthusiastic air-woman joyously.
“I only hope the secret won’t leak out to the enemy,” he said, and then went along to wash his hands before sitting down to dinner.
Presently, while they were at table, and Ronnie was describing the interview he had had with the heads of three Government Departments and the reading of the confidential reports upon the tests made with aeroplanes to which the silencer had been fitted, the maid entered announcing that he was wanted on the telephone.
He left the table, and five minutes later returned with a grave look upon his countenance.
“What’s the matter, dear?” asked Beryl anxiously, for she dreaded lest something was amiss.
For a few moments he did not answer, busying himself with his plate. Then at last, he replied:
“Oh!—well, only that I am flying ‘The Hornet’ again to-night.”
“May I not go with you?” Beryl asked eagerly. “Do let me go. It is over a week since I went up.”
He hesitated. Truth to tell, what he had heard on the telephone caused him some misgivings. Over the wire a certain disguised message had been given to him from headquarters—a request to which he had acceded.