"Chuck it!" ordered Fuller. "Let the beastly thing alone, or you may drop a plum. This child doesn't want to be hoist with his own petard. Well, thank goodness we're afloat. That's some consolation. Where the hooligan Harry is that confounded torch?" "Take mine," said the A.P. passing for'ard the desired article. "Say, old man, we appear to be rolling more to starboard than to t'other side. Hope the float isn't leaking." Fuller leant over the side. It was too dark to discern anything. Prudence forbade him to flash the torch upon the invisible support--a support so light and frail that the wonder of it all was that it hadn't given way under the force of the impact with the waves. The crippled seaplane was tossing and rolling under the combined action of the short crested waves and the stiff breeze. It wanted about two hours to daylight. Meanwhile every minute saw the amphibious craft drifting further and further from shore. There were no signs of the "Hippodrome." Possibly the seaplane carrier had resumed her voyage, in the supposition that the missing hornet had made one of the fishing harbours on the Yorkshire coast. The absence of any wireless call rather knocked that theory on the head. On the other hand the "Hippodrome" could not, without great risk of being submarined, since she was unaccompanied by destroyers or patrol-boats, steam seaward on an apparent wild-goose chase for her errant child. "She's holding, I fancy," said Fuller referring to the suspected float. "Anyhow we've kept afloat so far and there's no reason why we shouldn't do so until I tackle this most refractory motor." Making cautious use of the flash lamp the pilot minutely examined the complicated mechanism. It was not long before the mischief was discovered. Not only was the petrol-tank completely perforated by three shrapnel bullets, but the pipe leading from it to the carburetter had been cut clean through. That accounted for the engine running for some seconds before coming to a stop. Until the last of the petrol in the carburetter had been drawn into the cylinders firing was still taking place. Further examination revealed the fact that, the motor was otherwise undamaged, although, judging by the holes in the fuselage and through the planes, it seemed wonderful that pilot and observer had escaped being hit. "Can I bear a hand?" enquired Kirkwood. "No, thanks," was the reply. "Close enough quarters as it is. We should only be tumbling over one another."