Still lower I descended and circled about until I had actually picked out the pointed spire of Stockhurst church. Yet there was still no sign. Roseye saw how puzzled I had become, and extended her palms to denote dismay. What could have gone wrong? Where was the hitch? Back I turned over Mayfield again, and once more took certain bearings, for night-flying is always fraught with many difficulties, and one can so very easily get lost. I consulted both map and compass very carefully, satisfying myself at last that I had made no mistake. I had certainly picked up Stockhurst. But where was the agreed sign? Something surely must have happened! Why did not Teddy show us his light? The time was quite correct. We were only ten minutes late. I knew my friend too well to put his silence down to mere forgetfulness. No. Something had happened! Both of us strained our eyes into that black, cavernous space below, as we hovered in mid-air full of hesitation and perplexity. There was but one thing to do, namely, to make our way back, for a landing there was quite impossible, scarcely anything being distinguishable save a small winding stream. Besides, I was without knowledge as to whether the wind had changed since I had left the farm. It probably had. Suddenly, flying as low as I really dared, I struck out a little to the south making a complete circle of Stockhurst, but avoiding Mayfield. I had no desire to rouse the town again by the noise of my exhaust, for in those days of Zeppelin peril the throb of aircraft engines was always alarming, and more especially at night. Three times did I circle round, but failed to attract Teddy's attention. Suddenly Roseye nudged me and pointed eagerly down to the left. Her quick eyes had detected a tiny white light showing, which looked like short and long sparks. My heart gave a bound. Yes, it was Teddy! Yet we were now so high again, to avoid the surrounding hills, that his flash-lamp only looked a tiny point of light. He flashed some message in Morse, but I only got a few letters. Would he repeat it? We both watched breathlessly, as I headed the machine in his direction. Yes! Again the light spoke in the "longs" and "shorts" of the Morse code, which both Roseye and I could understand. Together we read it. "_Return in an hour_," he signalled. Why? I wondered. What could have occurred? Somehow, by the appearance of his light, I thought he must be signalling in secret, and not in the open. He would expect some acknowledgment from me, telling him that I understood. Therefore I elevated our searchlight so as to shine upward, instead of below. Then, touching the lever, a long beam of white light shot skyward for a second. Afterwards I shut it off, and made straight away due southward by the compass, greatly puzzled. What could possibly have happened? CHAPTER NINETEEN. FLASHES IN THE NIGHT. It was most fortunate that I had taken in plenty of petrol.