"Not yet. It isn't light enough, and he's keeping too far away." They were now right over the Lion Mound on the famous field of battle. The village of Waterloo was just behind them, standing almost exactly as it stood on that memorable day, Sunday, June 18, 1815. In the morning mist the old chateau of Hougumont lay sleepily ensconced in the hollow, while on the left the smoke was already rising up from the farmhouse of La Haye Saint. "Another 'plane coming up on the south, making a bee line for us," shouted the observer. "Splendid! That must be Steve," exclaimed Dastral, warming up a little as he saw that two of his three birds had reached the spot safely. "But where the deuce is Brum? He should be here by now. It's getting quite light," said Jock, peering in every direction for the missing aviator. "Ho! ho! here he comes." "Where away? I can't see him." "Right behind us. He must have over-shot the mark also, and he's coming back on our trail from Brussels." The next instant, Dastral did a rapid swerve, and a steep nose-dive, in accordance with the pre-arranged code made before starting. This was quite sufficient, for the strangers had been stalling their machines, and circling around, waiting for the signal. Now they opened out their engines and came on at top speed to meet their leader. As they came up Jock could see the observers waving their hands in recognition. Yes, they were all here. The first part of the business was over. They had all come safely through and gained the rendezvous. "Now we must get to work, for there's trouble brewing somewhere for us, and the sooner we get through the affair the better," shouted the pilot through the speaking tube. As the machines came up, they wheeled smartly round, and each took up its appointed place in the formation. To an observer down below it must have appeared that they were great birds wheeling about to order, just like a platoon of infantry on parade. "Prepare for action," was the next signal given, as they sped off, led by Dastral. "Braine l'Alleud next," called Dastral. "Yes, a little further to the right, just below the dip in the hill. We should see the Zeppelin sheds shortly," responded Jock, who was ready for the query, and had one finger already on the waterproof map. "Shall I follow the road?" asked Dastral. "Yes, till I pick up the hangars." A moment later, the huge sheds came into view, and Jock, putting down his glasses, shouted with glee: "There they are--three of them, and quite a crowd of people round about them. A little more to the left." "Yes, I see them--why, there are hundreds of people there. What on earth can they be doing there?" asked Dastral. "German soldiers waiting for the return of the Zeppelins that raided England last night, I expect." "Phew! Our luck's in this time."