Kenneth Kenyon was now on his mettle. For the first time he was in command of a large airship about to make a descent. As officer of the watch he had already had opportunities of observing the handling of the huge vessel, but now he found himself confronted with the problem of bringing her close to the surface of the sea so as to enable the destroyer to manoeuvre sufficiently enough to establish direct communication. "Hope I don’t make a bog of it," he soliloquised. "I must admit I feel a bit rotten after that little jamboree just now. Still, I’ll stick it." Although he was not aware of the fact, Leading Hand Jackson was keeping a sharp eye on his superior officer, ready at the first sign to "take on" should Kenyon’s physical strength fail him. For the next ten minutes the greatest activity prevailed. Gongs were clanging, crisp orders were issued through various voice-tubes, gas was being withdrawn from various ballonets, the motors were constantly being either accelerated or retarded according to the conditions demanded. The white flashing lamp signals were being exchanged with the T.B.D., which had now circled sixteen degrees to starboard and was steaming slowly dead in the eye of the wind. In the floor of the bow compartment of the "Golden Hind" the large trap-hatch had been opened. Close by crouched men ready to lower away a wire rope, at the end of which a small electric bulb glowed to enable the destroyer’s crew to locate the line in the dark. Throughout the manoeuvre neither the "Golden Hind" nor the _Zeebrugge_ made use of their searchlights, since the dazzling rays might baffle the respective helmsmen and result in a collision. Slowly and gracefully the airship dropped until her fuselage was thirty feet from the surface of the sea. She was now dead in the wake of the destroyer, and the task that confronted Kenyon was to bring her ahead sufficiently for the bows to overlap the _Zeebrugge’s_ stern. An error of judgment at that low height would result in the airship’s bows fouling the destroyer’s mast. Foot by foot the "Golden Hind" gained upon the destroyer until a shout from the latter’s deck announced that the wire rope had been made fast. Instantly the airship’s six motors were declutched. She was now moving merely under the towing action of the _Zeebrugge_, which was forging ahead at a bare four knots. From the trap-hatch in the airship’s bows a rope-ladder was lowered, its end being held by a couple of bluejackets on the T.B.D. Without loss of time Fosterdyke swarmed up the swaying ladder, and was followed by Bramsdean. "Cast off, and thank you!" shouted the baronet. "All gone," came an answering voice from the _Zeebrugge_, followed by a hearty "Best of luck to you!" Released, the "Golden Hind" leapt a full five hundred feet into the air before the propellers began to revolve.