Roseye and I ate a frugal meal alone. Mulliner, who served it, must have commented inwardly upon our unusual silence. We generally chattered merrily. Truth to tell, my mind was just then too full for words. If the test succeeded, then all would be well, and Great Britain could defy the enemy's Zeppelins. If it failed, I would not only be ruined--for I had borrowed money to reconstruct my machine--but I should know that all my theories had been blown to the winds, and that the enemy's bombastic threats to set London in flames were no idle ones. Roseye, reading my thoughts, became also pensive. The hour of our great trial was now at hand. Even as we sat at table we could hear the quick throb of the engines for a few moments, and then they were cut off. Theed was busy getting everything in order. Darkness had fallen. There was scarcely a breath of wind; the stars shone brightly in the steely-blue heavens, and the barometer was steadily rising. "A splendid night for flying!" I declared, and as Roseye stood with me upon the threshold my arm stole lightly around her waist. "Yes, dear," was her reply, as she stood gazing away at the surrounding hills silhouetted against the night sky. The silence was intense. From the distance, far away from the depth of the opposite valley, came the noise of a train on the main line which ran between London and the sea. We both looked across the starlight scene, and wondered. It was only half-past eight, so we went back into the farmer's best room, and sat before the logs chatting. In those strenuous days we were seldom alone together. Yet, full well, I knew how she reciprocated my affection, and how her every thought was for my welfare. Yes. We loved each other truly, and my life would have been one of the most perfect bliss were it not for that gulf of suspicion that had been opened by her inexplicable disappearance. That hour, however, was not the one in which to recall it, so I crushed down its bitter memory. Roseye was mine--and mine alone. "You really want to go up with me to-night, darling?" I asked, as I again sat beside her upon the frayed old couch before the big blazing fire. "You are not afraid?" "I fear nothing, Claude, when I am with you," she replied, raising her big blue eyes to mine. And then my lips met hers in a long, rapturous caress. In the dim light of the cheap paraffin lamp upon the table I saw that her expression was one of complete trust and devoted affection. How could I doubt her further? And yet the motive of her absolute refusal to tell me the truth concerning where she had been was veiled in mystery. It was an enigma that had puzzled me to distraction.