It was mid-October. The equinoctial gales had not yet arrived to convert the placid surface of the sea into a regular turmoil of short, broken waves. Hardly a ripple ruffled the long gentle undulations. Not a cloud obscured the sky. The slanting rays of the sun played uninterruptedly upon the sloping deck of H.M. Seaplane Carrier "Hippodrome" as she forged slowly ahead, surrounded by an escort of long, lean destroyers. Her day's work was apparently over. The operations against the Zeebrugge defences--operations of almost a daily occurrence--had been carried out according to orders. The observation "kite" balloon had been hauled down and stowed in the "Hippodrome's" after-well; her brood of seaplanes had, save one, returned from their task of "spotting" for the guns of the monitors, and everything had been made snug for the run back to her base. She awaited only the reappearance of the stray "duckling" to increase speed for home waters. "Billy's getting properly strafed, I fancy," remarked Flight-Lieutenant John Fuller as the distant growl of innumerable "antis" reverberated in the still air. "Wonder what the deuce he's doing? When we swung about over Position 445 he was heading almost due east." "Billy won't suffer from cold feet," rejoined his companion--"a regular glutton for work. Give him a chance for a stunt (bombing raid) and he's all there. For a mere youngster, I say, he's----" Further remarks concerning the rashness of Billy--otherwise Flight-sub-lieutenant Barcroft--were postponed by the appearance of yet another member of the "Hippodrome's" flying-officers. "Young Barcroft's just tick-tocked through," he announced. "He's on his way back. Cool cheek, by Jove! Keeping the crowd of us waiting while he's joy-riding somewhere in the direction of Berlin. Wonder how far he went?" From where they stood, just abaft the starboard funnel-casing, the officers scanned the horizon. The "Hippodrome," like most of her sisters, had at one time been a liner, but the building up of a launching-platform for seaplanes had resulted in considerable alterations to her external and internal appearance. Amongst other things she now had two funnels abreast and far apart in place of her original foremost one, in order to give full scope to the inclined plane that extended from her bows to within a few feet of the navigation bridge--a piece of new construction perched at least 150 feet further aft than the old bridge and chart-room of pre-war days. The clank of a steam winch and the swinging overhead of a long steel derrick announced the fact that preparations were being made to welcome home the "stray bird." Although a seaplane could be launched with ease from the sloping platform, on her return she would have to alight in the water and "taxi" alongside her parent ship. Hence the necessity for a long and powerful derrick to swing the seaplane, with its broad expanse of wings, clear of the ship's side and deposit it carefully upon deck.