guns played upon him, he released this remaining
bomb. It struck the Zeppelin amidship. There was a flash, a roar, and
a great burst of smoke as the vanquished craft exploded and plunged
nose downward. The rush of air caused by the explosion upset the
equilibrium of the victorious machine, which dropped toward the ground
and turned completely over before its pilot could regain control. The
presence of mind which he showed at this juncture, was one of the most
remarkable features of this remarkable conflict.

The young Canadian pilot righted his machine in time to see the
Zeppelin end its career. Like a flaming comet it fell upon the convent
of Le Grand Beguinage de Sainte Elizabeth, located in Mont Saint
Amand, a suburb of Ghent. This convent was used as an orphanage. The
burning airship set fire to several buildings, causing the death of
two sisters and two children. The twenty-eight men aboard were killed.
Accounts from Amsterdam a day or two later gave a vivid description of
the charred remnants of the machine, the burned convent buildings, and
the victims all piled together.

Lieutenant Warneford saw the Zeppelin fall and knew that its raiding
days were over. Then he discovered that his own machine was in
trouble. In another moment he realized the impossibility of returning
to the British lines, and was compelled to volplane toward earth,
cutting off his driving power. Descending in a soft field, he found
that his motor was out of order. Thirty precious minutes were spent
repairing the damage. It took him as long again to get his machine
started, a task not often accomplished by one man. But he sailed
serenely home and brought the news of his strange victory.

Within twenty-four hours Lieutenant Warneford was the hero of the
world. His name and achievement had been flashed to the four corners
of the earth. Every newspaper rang with acclaim for the boyish aviator
who had shown that one man of skill and daring was a match for the
huge Zeppelin. It was the old story of David and Goliath, of the Roman
youth who bested the Gaul, of Drake's improvised fleet against the
Armada. The lieutenant was called to London and presented with the
Victoria Cross by King George, who thanked him in the name of the
British Empire for adding another laurel to the long list of its
honors. A day or two later President Poincare received him in Paris
and pinned the Legion of Honor cross upon his breast.

But this same week saw the climax