"The trouble will come later, I think," said Barcroft when the message was communicated to the "Hippodrome's" officers. "If she isn't winged she'll rise to the surface after we're out of sight and wireless the news to the Heligoland signal station. The mere mention of seaplane carriers will put the Huns on the _qui vive_. However, that can't be helped; I'm turning in, you fellows, and I advise you to do the same." Well before dawn the airmen detailed for the raid were roused from their sleep, or rather their efforts to slumber, since few were sufficiently proof against the excitement of the forthcoming expedition to enjoy a good night's rest. Breakfast over, the members of the forlorn hope donned their leather coats and flying helmets, and assembled aft for final instructions from the wing commander. "There is to be no easing down to keep pace with the slowest machine," were his instructions. "Each man is to go for his objective at top speed. You have noted the positions of the various batteries, I trust? It would be well to leave the Glienicke Redoubt well on your left. It's the only one, I believe, that mounts the latest Krupp's antis. On no account must the bombing seaplane attempt to encounter hostile aircraft on the outward flight: leave that task to the escorting planes. If, however, you fall in with any Zeppelins, attack immediately. One more point: should the situation necessitate the withdrawal of the seaplane-carriers and their escorts you know your instructions? Good. Well, gentlemen, that is all I have to say, beyond wishing you the best of luck and a safe return." Barcroft's machine was the last to leave the "Hippodrome's" launching platform, and the last but one of the raiding craft. It was still dark. The misty outlines of the nearmost biplanes could be just discerned as they rose swiftly and steadily above the invisible destroyers. The crews of the latter gave the airmen three rousing cheers as they swept overhead, but the tribute was wasted. The farewell greetings were drowned by the roar of the engines. As dawn began to break Billy made a rather disconcerting discovery. His seaplane was now the last of the procession. It had been over hauled by the one from the "Cursus," and what was more she was slowly yet surely dropping astern. It did not appear to be the fault of the engine. The timing and firing seemed perfect. The motor was running like a clock, yet the rest of the raiding aircraft, most of which he knew were usually slightly inferior in speed, were distinctly gaining. With the growing dawn the four escorting battle seaplanes could be distinguished, two on either side of the long-drawn line of bomb dropping air-craft. It was the duty of the former to engage any hostile aeroplane that attempted to bar the progress of the latter. Armoured and carrying two light quick-firers they were more than a match for the German airmen, and the latter were fully aware of the fact.