The time was quite correct. We were only ten minutes late. I knew my friend too well to put his silence down to mere forgetfulness.
No. Something had happened!
Both of us strained our eyes into that black, cavernous space below, as we hovered in mid-air full of hesitation and perplexity.
There was but one thing to do, namely, to make our way back, for a landing there was quite impossible, scarcely anything being distinguishable save a small winding stream. Besides, I was without knowledge as to whether the wind had changed since I had left the farm. It probably had.
Suddenly, flying as low as I really dared, I struck out a little to the south making a complete circle of Stockhurst, but avoiding Mayfield. I had no desire to rouse the town again by the noise of my exhaust, for in those days of Zeppelin peril the throb of aircraft engines was always alarming, and more especially at night.
Three times did I circle round, but failed to attract Teddy’s attention.
Suddenly Roseye nudged me and pointed eagerly down to the left. Her quick eyes had detected a tiny white light showing, which looked like short and long sparks.
My heart gave a bound. Yes, it was Teddy!
Yet we were now so high again, to avoid the surrounding hills, that his flash-lamp only looked a tiny point of light.
He flashed some message in Morse, but I only got a few letters.