As the place
was on the top of a rise in the midst of a big amphitheatre, any
observer from any direction would conclude it had passed out of
view behind the hill. Only a man very close at hand would realize
that the aeroplane had not gone over but had descended in the
midst of the wood. An observer with a telescope on one of the
higher hills might have discovered the truth, but only herds went
there, and herds do not carry spy-glasses. When I looked from the
dovecot I could see far away a blue line which I knew was the sea,
and I grew furious to think that our enemies had this secret
conning-tower to rake our waterways.
Then I reflected that if that aeroplane came back the chances
were ten to one that I would be discovered. So through the afternoon
I lay and prayed for the coming of darkness, and glad I was
when the sun went down over the big western hills and the twilight
haze crept over the moor. The aeroplane was late. The gloaming
was far advanced when I heard the beat of wings and saw it volplaning
downward to its home in the wood. Lights twinkled for a
bit and there was much coming and going from the house. Then
the dark fell, and silence.
Thank God it was a black night. The moon was well on its last
quarter and would not rise till late. My thirst was too great to allow
me to tarry, so about nine o'clock, so far as I could judge, I started
to descend.
Pages:
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115