lled with excitement, "Victory," he cried, "victory! The people
are winning. Ostrog's people have collapsed."

She rose. "Victory?"

"What do you mean?" asked Graham. "Tell me! _What_?"

"We have driven them out of the under galleries at Norwood, Streatham is
afire and burning wildly, and Roehampton is ours. _Ours_!--and we have
taken the monoplane that lay thereon."

A shrill bell rang. An agitated grey-headed man appeared from the room of
the Ward Leaders. "It is all over," he cried.

"What matters it now that we have Roehampton? The aeroplanes have been
sighted at Boulogne!"

"The Channel!" said the man in yellow. He calculated swiftly.
"Half an hour."

"They still have three of the flying stages," said the old man.

"Those guns?" cried Graham.

"We cannot mount them--in half an hour."

"Do you mean they are found?"

"Too late," said the old man.

"If we could stop them another hour!" cried the man in yellow.

"Nothing can stop them now," said the old man. "They have near a hundred
aeroplanes in the first fleet."

"Another hour?" asked Graham.

"To be so near!" said the Ward Leader. "Now that we have found
those guns. To be so near--. If once we could get them out upon the
roof spaces."

"How long would that take?" asked Graham suddenly.

"An hour--certainly."

"Too late," cried the Ward Leader, "too late."

"_Is_ it too late?" said Graham. "Even now--. An hour!"

He had suddenly perceived a possibility. He tried to speak calmly, but
his face was white. "There is are chance. You said there was a
monoplane--?"

"On the Roehampton stage, Sire."

"Smashed?"

"No. It is lying crossways to the carrier. It might be got upon the
guides--easily. But there is no aeronaut--."

Graham glanced at the two men and then at Helen. He spoke after a long
pause. "_We_ have no aeronauts?"

"None."

He turned suddenly to Helen. His decision was made. "I must do it."

"Do what?"

"Go to this flying stage--to this machine."

"What do you mean?"

"I am an aeronaut. After all--. Those days for which you reproached me
were not altogether wasted."

He turned to the old man in yellow. "Tell them to put it upon the
guides."

The man in yellow hesitated.

"What do you mean to do?" cried Helen.

"This monoplane--it is a chance--."

"You don't mean--?"

"To fight--yes. To fight in the air. I have thought before--. A big
aeroplane is a clumsy thing. A resolute man--!"

"But--never since flying beg