Billy Barcroft, R.N.A.S Part 9

"Hang it all!" he mused. "That voice seems familiar. A trim little craft, too, I should imagine, although I can't see her face. Wonder who she is?"

"You are a naval officer, I see," remarked the girl.

"Yes," admitted Billy. "On leave and going to a home I've never seen. This raid affair made me late."

"And so it did me," added his companion. "By the bye, where was your home before?"

"At Alderdene in Kent," replied Barcroft, somewhat taken aback at the question. "Why do you ask?"

"I thought so," was the composed reply. "And your name is Barcroft--Billy Barcroft."

"By Jove!" exclaimed the young officer. "How on earth do you know that? I'm afraid I don't recognise you."

"You always had a bad memory for certain things, Mr. Barcroft," the girl laughingly reminded him. "I felt almost positive it was you directly you spoke. You see, the uniform and you have a most characteristic helped me, manner of speaking."

"Have I?" asked Billy, still mystified. "And you have a good memory, I presume?"

"Fairly reliable," admitted the girl.

"Then let us hope that your recollections of me are of a favourable character," continued the flight-sub. "Now, tell me; what is your name?"

"There is no immediate hurry for that," she protested. "Before I reveal my ident.i.ty suppose I remind you of some of your girl friends at Alderdene--Ada Forrester, for instance."

Yes, Billy remembered Ada Forrester very well--a short, podgy kid, he reflected, who by no possible chance could have developed into the tall, graceful girl by his side.

"And Betty Deringhame," continued his inquisitor. "One of the n.o.ble army of flappers. Rather a shallow-headed kid and a bit of a tomboy, wasn't she?"

"A tomboy--yes," agreed the flight-sub, "but I cannot admit the other. We used to be good pals, but that was three years ago. I was in my Third Term at Dartmouth when her people left Alderdene."

"You taught her to signal in Morse, I think," pursued the girl. "You used to exchange messages until that little pig, Pat o'Hara, the vicar's son, learnt it too and told tales to her mother."

They walked in silence for some moments. Barcroft had almost forgotten his surroundings. His thoughts had taken him back to those far off, pre-war days in sunny Kent.

"Yes," he said at length in his deep manly voice. "It is absolutely great to be with Betty Deringhame again."

"So you've guessed at last," said Betty. "It's a strange world, isn't it?"

"And a mighty pleasant one, barring the Huns and others of that crowd," added Billy. "Now, tell me, what are you doing here?"

"Walking with an old acquaintance upon a long road that leads to Two Elms and Tarleigh."

"Obvious--we will not dispute the fact," rejoined the young officer.

"To put the question in more exact terms: where are you living, and what brought you to this part of England?"

"I think I said I was living at Two Elms. To be more precise, at Mill View. That doesn't sound particularly cheerful, does it? We came here to live after we left Alderdene, shortly after war broke out. I am now employed in a munitions works."

"Munitions works! Whatever are you doing that for?" asked Billy surprised beyond measure. It seemed incredible that the slim, light-hearted girl of his boyhood days should be toiling in this manner.

"Because I had to do something," replied Betty simply. "We lost almost everything. Besides, it was an opportunity to do something practical for the war. People of all social grades do, you know."

"I'm sorry about your financial misfortune," said Barcroft sympathetically.

"And so am I--very," added the girl frankly. "But it is unnecessary to enter into details. This is my home."

They came to a standstill in front of a row of two-storeyed houses.

Owing to the darkness it was impossible for the flight-sub to form an accurate idea of the pretensions of the place; but at any rate it was a pitiful contrast to "The Old Rectory," the Deringhames' house at Alderdene.

"The works were nearly hit by the bombs," continued Betty. "We had just started the night-s.h.i.+fts, but the girls were sent off after the raid was over. One of them was so frightened that I had to take her home. That's why I was late."

"Fortunately for me," declared Billy earnestly.

"Yes, a stranger would have some difficulty to find his way on a night like this," said Betty inconsequently. "You are on a straight road now, until you come to a railway arch. Just beyond you'll notice a line of overhead wires if you keep your eyes open. Just beyond is a path on the left. That will take you past Ladybird Fold."

"I'll call in the morning," said Barcroft.

"We--that is, mother and I, will be pleased to see you," replied the girl. "Goodnight--Billy."

For the rest of the distance the flight-sub trod literally on air until he reached the path that Betty had mentioned. Tripping over a slab of stone he came to earth in a double sense.

"Dash it all!" he exclaimed as he picked himself up. "Has the governor defended Lady bird Fold with entanglements and pitfalls? By Jove, this is a night!"

Groping his way Billy ascended the steeply sloping cinder path across the meadow. Another stile and a broad stretch of rugged ground had to be negotiated before he saw a dark ma.s.s looming up in front. By this time he was feeling particularly stiff, hungry and cold. The keen air of the hillside made him regret the absence of his airman's leather coat.

"Wonder if this is the show?" he mused as he surveyed the isolated and apparently deserted building.

He stopped and listened intently. Voices were heard within, behind the thickly-curtained window. He recognised one of the speakers.

"That's the governor, right enough," he exclaimed, all traces of annoyance vanis.h.i.+ng at the pleasurable discovery.

The outer door was unlocked. Billy threw it open and burst into the well-lighted study.

"Cheer-o, pater!" he exclaimed. "Sorry I'm late. Some night, eh, what?"

CHAPTER X

THE SEAPLANE'S QUEST

"S' LONG, you festive blighters! Good luck!"

With this typically airman's farewell ringing in his ears Flight-lieutenant John Fuller, D.S.O., clambered lightly into the pilot's seat of Seaplane 445B.

Owing to Billy Barcroft's absence on leave a change round had been effected in the composition of the crews of the seaplane carrier "Hippodrome's" little nest of hornets, and as a result Fuller found himself in company with Bobby Kirkwood as his observer.

It was the night of the Barborough raid. The "Hippodrome," bound for the Firth of Forth, had picked up a wireless when some where off the Yorks.h.i.+re coast, reporting the presence of four Zeppelins.