to the unpleasant vapour. The
flight-commander, startled at the sudden clatter, turns round. Finding
that the fire was mine and not an enemy's, he shakes his fist as a
protest against the sudden disturbance. Even this action is welcome, as
being evidence of companionship.

When the pilot, judging that Passementerie should be below, takes the
machine under the clouds, I feel an immense relief, even though the exit
is certain to make us a target for Archie. We emerge slightly to the
west of the town. There is little to be observed; the railways are bare
of trains, and the station contains only an average number of trucks.
Four black-crossed aeroplanes are flying over their aerodrome at a
height of some two thousand feet. Three of them begin to climb, perhaps
in an attempt to intercept us. However, our bus has plenty of time to
disappear, and this we do quickly--so quickly that the A.-A. batteries
have only worried us to the extent of half a dozen shells, all wide of
the mark.

We rise right through the white screen into full view of the sun.
Apparently the sky is clear of intruders, so we turn for three-quarters
of a circle and head for Pluspres, the third point of call. The wind now
being behind the machine in a diagonal direction, our speed in relation
to the ground is twice the speed of the outward half of the journey. The
sun is pleasantly warming, and I look towards it gratefully. A few small
marks, which may or may not be sun-spots, flicker across its face. To
get an easier view I draw my goggles, the smoke-tinted glasses of which
allow me to look at the glare without blinking. In a few seconds I am
able to recognise the spots as distant aeroplanes moving in our
direction. Probably they are the formation that we encountered on the
way to Passementerie. Their object in keeping between us and the sun is
to remain unobserved with the help of the blinding stream of light,
which throws a haze around them. I call the pilot's attention to the
scouts, and yet again we fade into the clouds. This time, with the
sixty-mile wind as our friend, there is no need to remain hidden for
long. Quite soon we shall have to descend to look at Pluspres, the most
dangerous point on the round.

When we take another look at earth I find that the pilot has been exact
in timing our arrival at the important Boche base--too exact, indeed,
for we find ourselves directly over the centre of the town. Only
somebody who has been Archied from Plusp