The Zeppelin Destroyer: Being Some Chapters of Secret HistoryLe Queux, William
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The Zeppelin Destroyer: Being Some Chapters of Secret History
Le Queux, William
War stories; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
Lionel had returned from the North, but was gone to France in connexion
with some trials of a new French monoplane at the aerodrome at St
Valery-en-Caux. Therefore he was in ignorance of our pending
experiments.
That we were being closely watched by spies, and that our every movement
was being noted, we knew quite well. Indeed, Roseye seemed, curiously
enough, to be filled with serious apprehensions.
Because of this, I decided not to fly from Hendon, but to experiment out
in the country. Therefore on Thursday, the Tenth of February, in
greatest secrecy, I removed my machine in two motor-lorries down to a
little place called Nutley, on the borders of those high lands of
Ashdown Forest, about eleven miles north of Lewes.
There, after some search, we found a convenient barn at a lonely,
out-of-the-world place called Holly Farm, and this we soon converted
into a suitable hangar.
The farmer and his wife were quite ready to rent us the house furnished
as it stood, so next day we found ourselves in full possession.
Our party consisted of Teddy Ashton, the Theeds (father and son),
Roseye, the maid Mulliner, and myself. Roseye and I made another
journey by car up to Gunnersbury, and also to my rooms, in order to
fetch down the remainder of the apparatus, and on the third day of our
arrival all the parts were ready for assembling.
Holly Farm was a small but comfortable old house, with an ancient
whitewashed kitchen which had black oak beams across its ceiling. The
living-room was typical of the "best room" of the old-fashioned British
farmer. In the deep-seated window stood a case of wool-flowers beneath
a glass dome, while upon the horsehair-covered furniture were many
crocheted antimacassars, and upon the wide, open hearth the farm-hand,
an old fellow of nearly eighty, made huge log fires which were truly
welcome in that wintry chill.
We had brought with us an ample stock of provisions, for the place we
had chosen stood upon one of the highest points, not far from Chelwood
Beacon, and miles from any town or village of any size.
From the attic windows which peeped forth from the thatch, we commanded
a magnificent view both away north over Surrey, and south across the
Downs to the Channel. We were up upon what the Bathy-orographical map
of England terms "The Forest Ridge," which lies between the North Downs
and the sea.
With old Theed as sentry, we worked away in the farmyard, the doors of
which were carefully closed, assembling the machine. That work took
three days, though we all strove with a will, leaving Mulliner to act as
housekeeper and prepare our meals.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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