But ow do you think they got hold of that duplicate key, sir? asked the grey-haired old pensioner.
I hesitated. The whole affair was a most complete mystery, and only went to bear out Teddys declaration that, on the night of our test, somebody must have been about and expressed sudden surprise at its astounding result.
From the telephone call-box inside Hammersmith Broadway station I rang up Teddy at Hendon, and asked him to meet me there after lunch.
This he did, and as together we walked away from the hangars, so as not to be overheard, I related to him the strange story, as told by old Theed.
He stood astounded.
Somebody knows, my dear Claude! Who can it be?
Who knows? Only ourselves, Roseye and the Theeds. Nobody else, was my quick reply.
Then, suddenly, he said: I suppose Roseye couldnt have dropped any hint to her father? If so, the latter might have spoken to Eastwell or somebody else!
Roseye made to me a solemn promise of secrecy, and I trust her, Teddy, I said very quietly.
So do I, my dear fellow. So do I, he assured me.
Well I cant fathom the mystery at all. Evidently they were on some desperate errand or they wouldnt have knocked poor old Theed senseless eh? And the woman! Who could she have been?
Who knows? I asked. Nevertheless, we must make it our business to find out, my dear chap, I added in earnestness. Weve got secret enemies somewhere probably around us here. Indeed, that has been my firm conviction for some time.
And mine also. So let us keep open eyes everywhere. Wheres Roseye? Is she coming over this afternoon?
I expect her every minute. Shell be astounded and excited.
You wont tell her shall you? It will only alarm her, Claude and I never advocate alarming a woman.
I paused. Instantly I realised the weight of such an argument, for Roseye was, after all, a dainty and highly-strung little person, who might worry herself over the mystery far too much.
Yes, Teddy, I said somewhat reluctantly. I quite agree. At present wed best leave matters as they are, and keep our own counsel.
Hardly were those words out of my mouth when we saw my well-beloved, with face flushed in glad welcome, coming across to us. She had evidently arrived in her car, and already put on her air-kit, for, it being a fine afternoon, she intended to make a flight.
The Zeppelin raid upon London had set the whole aircraft world agog. Every one at Hendon and Brooklands was full of it, most men criticising the air-services, of course, and declaring vaguely that something must really be done.
It was so very easy to make such a declaration. Old men in their easy-chairs in the London club-windows were saying that very same thing, but nobody could, with truth, point out any real effective remedy against what certain Hide-the-Truth newspapers described as the German gas-bags.
A lot of people were about the aerodrome that afternoon, and Teddy went off to test his engine, while Roseye, drawing on her thick gloves, mounted into her machine which her mechanic had brought out for her.
I shall run over to Aylesbury and back, she told me. I know the railway line. Shall you go up?
Probably, I replied, as I stood beside her Duperdussin watching her man adjusting one of the stays which he seemed to think was not quite tight enough. Then, a few moments later, she shot from me with a fierce blast of the exhaust, and in a few seconds had left the ground, rapidly rising in the air.
I watched her for some minutes as she skimmed over the tree-tops and rose higher and higher, then satisfying myself that her engine was running well. I turned and crossed to the shed wherein stood my own bus, with the ever-patient Theed awaiting me.
The Breguet was brought out, and with a few idlers standing about me, as they always do at Hendon, I climbed into the pilots seat and began to test my big engine. It roared and spluttered at first, but gradually, with Theeds aid and he was a splendid mechanic by the way I got it to run with perfect evenness and precision.
Why, I dont know, but my bus usually attracted some onlookers. About the aerodrome we always have a number of idle persons with a sprinkling of the eternal feminine silk-stockinged hangers-on to the pilots and pupils who, not being able to fly, do the next best thing, become friends of flying-men. In that little knot of people gathered about my machine probably on account of the Zeppelin sensation I noted, in particular, one podgy fat-faced little man.
As I strapped myself into the pilots seat, after examining my altimeter, compass, etc, and adjusting my self-registering thermometer, I chanced to glance at the people around, and had noticed the man in question. His strange-looking bead-like eyes fascinated me. Upon his round white face was a look of intense interest, yet those eyes, rather narrowly set, struck me as queer-looking and uncanny eyes such as I had never seen before.
Suddenly I wondered if their gaze upon me was some evil omen.
Next second I laughed within myself at such an absurd thought. It was the first time in all my life that such an idea had ever crossed my mind, therefore I at once dismissed it. Such thought was most foolish and utterly ridiculous.
Yet, again, I glanced at him, unable to withdraw my gaze entirely. Those dark, beady eyes of his, set slightly askew, were certainly most uncanny. Their gaze seemed cold and relentless, and yet at the same time exulting.
Sight of them sent through me a strange creepy feeling, but, with resolution, I turned away, busying myself in my preparations for starting.
Perhaps it was knowledge that strangers had been prying into our experimental plant out at Gunnersbury that had somewhat upset me, yet, after all, though they had cruelly assaulted poor old Theed, no very great success had been theirs.
Who were they? That was the vital question.
Just as I was on the point of starting I saw Lionel Eastwell coming from the hangar, walking behind his own machine, which was being pushed out by his man Barnes and two others.
I waved to him from my seat, and he waved a merry greeting back to me.
Then, all being ready, I motioned to Theed to let her go, and with a deafening rush I shot forward, leaving behind a pungent blue trail from the big exhaust.
I rose quickly and had begun the ascent, the engine running beautifully, when of a sudden, before I was aware of it, something went wrong.
A sharp crack, a harsh tearing sound, and one of my wings collapsed. Across the back I was struck a most violent blow just as she took a nose-dive, and then, next instant, all knowledge of what had happened became blotted out by a dark night of unconsciousness.
Chapter Seven
Reveals a Plot
The next that I recollect is, with my brain awhirl, I tried to open my eyes, but so painful were they, that I was compelled to close them again in fearful agony.
Somebody whispered close to me, but my mind was too muddled to understand what was said.
My eyes burned in their sockets; my brain seemed unbalanced and aflame. I tried to think, but alas! could not. When I tried to recollect, all remembrance of the past seemed as though it were wrapped up in cotton-wool.
How long I remained in that comatose state I have no idea.
Some unknown hand forced between my teeth a few drops of liquid, which with difficulty I swallowed. This revived me, I know, for slowly very slowly the frightful pain across my brow decreased, and my burning eyes became easier until, at last, blinking, I managed to open them just a little.