she was built and controlled by a British subject, the Government ought to take steps to secure a right to build others of her pattern; otherwise the bare margin of safety set up by the Aerial Defence Committee was in danger.

Awaking out of its customary lethargy the British Government accepted the advice of "The Times," and steps were taken to locate the base from which the airship operated, and also, if possible, to trace her complete course during one of her nocturnal flights.

Searchlights were temporarily installed on almost every important hill-top from Berwick to Land's End, and from the South Foreland to Holyhead; airmen, both military and civilian, were encouraged to make night flights with the idea of being able to sight and perhaps keep in touch with the giant dirigible; while destroyers and seaplanes patrolled the coast, ready on the first intimation by wireless to concentrate at any rendezvous on the line of flight that the sought-for airship was likely to adopt.

"H'm!" ejaculated Dacres, as he carefully folded the latest newspaper that it was possible to obtain. "This looks lively. Things are getting exciting in the Old Country. Perhaps, after all, I may get a chance of a berth with one of the private flying schools, even if I can't manage to join the Flying Corps. I'll have a shot at it, by Jove!"

CHAPTER V.

A MOMENTOUS TRAIN JOURNEY.

UPON the arrival of the liner in the Thames, Basil Dacres took the opportunity of leaving the vessel at Tilbury, thus avoiding the tedious passage up to the docks.

Still uncertain as to what his reception by his father would be he booked his scanty belongings at the London terminus, and proceeded west.

Although outwardly calm his heart was thumping violently as he knocked at the door of Colonel Dacres' house. A strange footman answered him, and in reply to an inquiry said that Colonel Dacres had let the house for the season.

This was astonishing news, for in his last letter the colonel had made no mention of his intention, and to let his house was quite a departure from his usual plans.

"Can you give me Colonel Dacres' present address?"

"Yes, sir," replied the man; "it is Cranbury House, near Holmsley, Hants."

"I wonder what possessed the governor to rusticate," thought Dacres as he turned away. "Well, the sooner we come to an understanding the better, I suppose. I'll get some lunch and then take the first train to this out-of-the-way show. I can't say that I've heard of the place before."

Whilst having lunch Dacres asked for a time-table, and by dint of a considerable tax upon his brain-power he discovered that Holmsley was a small station in the New Forest. An express train, leaving Waterloo at five, would take him as far as Brockenhurst in an hour and fifty minutes. Then, as is usual with railway companies' arrangements, he found that he had three-quarters of an hour to wait until a slow train took him on to Holmsley.

The daily papers gave no further definite information about the unknown airship. It appeared to have escaped notice for nearly three weeks, although during that interval there were several unauthenticated accounts that it had been "spotted." Many reports turned out to be deliberate hoaxes, while in one instance a company of Royal Engineers at Portsmouth turned out with a searchlight, only to find that the "airship" reported by a belated and slightly inebriated clubman was a large telephone cable spanning the narrow roadway between two lofty blocks of buildings.

Finding he had plenty of time on his hands Dacres decided to walk to Waterloo. After an absence from Town he had a strong desire to see some of the familiar haunts, so after walking along Piccadilly and thence to Trafalgar Square, he turned down Northumberland Avenue. Under existing circumstances he gave the Admiralty buildings a wide berth, for he had no inclination to come in contact with any of his former brother-officers.

Just as he was passing the Metropole, Dacres nearly collided with a powerfully-built, athletic-looking man who looked anything between twenty and thirty years of age.

In the midst of mutual apologies the stranger suddenly exclaimed:—

"Why, bless my soul, what are you doing here, Dacres?"

"Hythe, by Jove!" ejaculated Dacres.

"Right you are, old man. You haven't altered much since I saw you last. Let me see, that was when we paid off in the old 'Cornwall' in 1914. But we needn't stand here; come to my club—it's only a few minutes' walk."

Arnold Hythe was in more respects than one a fortunate individual. In recognition of his services in connexion with the submarine "Aphrodite"—now the prototype of the British "M" class—he had been promoted to the rank of Inspecting Commander of Submarines after less than a year's service as lieutenant. This was creating a precedent, but circumstances warranted it, and when the unusual appointment was announced, the shoals of congratulatory telegrams that poured in from his brother-officers showed that in this case there was little or no grumbling at Hythe's well-deserved promotion.

"Dacres, old man, I am awfully sorry," remarked Hythe with genuine concern when Dacres had told his story. "I cannot imagine what possessed old Maynebrace to take such drastic measures. Of course I had a lot to do with him when he was Admiral Superintendent at Portsmouth, and, personally, I found him quite a genial old fellow. Possibly his being sent to sea from a dockyard commission without being promoted to Vice-Admiral may have soured his temper a bit. By the by, what are your plans?"

"Nothing definite at present. Ultimately I hope to do something in the way of flying. Always had an inclination in that direction."

"Yes, I remember you had. A little affair with that aviator at Dartmouth, for instance. Thank goodness, it isn't in my line. Give me six fathoms of water any day of the week."

"I suppose so," rejoined Dacres, "but I'm not keen on submarine work. It lacks the sense of freedom that you get when rushing through the air."

"H'm!" ejaculated Hythe. "My experience does not lead me to agree with you, at least, as far as aeroplanes are concerned. I had a nasty tumble at Zanzibar."

"Yes, I recollect: it was while you were doing your unlawful commission in the 'Aphrodite.' By the by, what's your opinion about this mysterious aircraft? It's making as much commotion as when Captain Restronguet shook us up a couple of years ago."

"Cannot say," replied Hythe laconically.

"But in the event of her proving to be in the employ of a foreign power, how would you propose to collar her?"

"I wouldn't give much for her chances if she came within range of one of our aerial torpedoes."

"An airship moving at over 150 miles an hour wants some hitting," remarked Dacres. "Besides, supposing she keeps clear of the sea?"

"That's out of my bearings," said Hythe. "It's a case for the military authorities. Anyhow, there's been nothing heard of her for days past, so no doubt she has transferred her activities elsewhere. Personally I have but little faith in the command of the air. So long as we keep command of the sea there's not much to trouble about. But to get back to more personal matters, Dacres, where are you bound for?"

"Going to pay the governor a visit."

"But you were shaping a course in the opposite direction when I crossed your bows."

"The pater has let his house and gone to live somewhere in the New Forest—near Holmsley. It's a matter of three hours' journey, even by express."

"Why not hire a 'plane? All you've to do is to tube to Richmond and get one from the Metropolitan and Suburban Volo Company. You'd be at Holmsley in three-quarters of an hour."

Dacres shook his head.

"Can't run to it, old man," he said gravely. "I haven't any too much shot in the locker at present."

Hythe's hand was in his pocket in an instant.