The second in command of the Zeppelin was an unter-leutnant of the name of Klick. It was one of his triumphs to announce that he had been arrested in England as a spy. That was in those distant pre-war times. He had been "spotted" by a sentry while in the act of sketching a fortification in the neighbourhood of an important naval station, arrested and charged at a police-court. Committed to the County Assizes he was politely told by the judge that espionage was dishonourable. Klick smiled inwardly. To him spying was part of an important German military training--an organised procedure. Nevertheless he was agreeably surprised when he was allowed to go with the admonition, "Don't do it again." Fortunately for Great Britain such misplaced leniency is a thing of the past. On Unter-leutnant Klick it was entirely thrown away. His typically German mind read the clemency as a sign of weakness. He came from a country where the only strength is "force majeur." "Well, Herr von Eitelwurmer," exclaimed the ober-leutnant after he had recovered from his surprise. "If you wish to see how our in comparable Zeppelins set to work you had better station yourself at this observation scuttle. I will lend you a fur coat." "Pity you hadn't lent me one long before," growled the spy, as one of the crew helped him into the warm garment. "Yours is a cold business, von Loringhoven." "Not when we get to work," corrected the other with a grim laugh. "Excitement stirs our blood to boiling point." A telephone bell tinkled softly. The commander took up the receiver. "Ach!" he replied. "That is good." The message was from Unter-leutnant Klick, announcing that the airship was immediately over the large town of Barborough. Von Loringhoven glanced at the altitude indicator. It registered 2,000 metres--too great for practical purposes where no danger was to be anticipated from anti-aircraft guns. The speed of the Zeppelin was now less than ten miles an hour, just sufficient to keep her stationary over her objective. The commander gave an order. A man on duty in the gondola thrust down a lever, Instantly the gas in several of the ballonets was withdrawn and forced under great pressure into a strong metal tank. This answered to the old-fashioned method of releasing gas from a balloon by means of an escape valve, but with a vast difference. The hydrogen was not wasted; it was merely stored for further service.