"Benny is a genius," was his testimony. "He’s just one of those born strong men you can’t keep back. If we had more of him in England, there wouldn’t be all this talk about decadence. We’re just falling behind as pioneers, and that’s the whole truth. If you speak to the manufacturers about it, they say it doesn’t matter, because we can always imitate the foreigners when they have invented things. I’m sure that’s all nonsense. The same brains which lead the way will hold it in the long run. Look how long it took us to overtake the French in the motor-car business; have we done it even now? Benny is one of our national assets, and if he succeeds, no honour is too big for him." "Then you think he will succeed, Mr. Fenton?" Dick shook his head. "Bob knows more about machinery—he’ll tell you. If it depends on the man and not on a bag of tricks, I’m sure he will succeed. That remains to be seen: we shall know to-morrow, anyway." "And make a night of it if our man wins," Bob added with conviction. More than that he was reticent to say. Whatever were the secrets of Benny’s aeroplane, they had been guarded closely. "He must be the cleverest chap alive," he continued. "Not a soul at Andana had an idea of it. He’s been flying about here for weeks, and all the time we thought him a good-natured crank, to be chaffed and rotted as much as we pleased. Now he looks like becoming one of the most famous men in the world. Sir Gordon says he will, and he’s had his eye to the keyhole. Perhaps he wants to float Benny as a company; I shouldn’t be surprised. If his machine is what he claims it to be, there’ll not be a rival in the market in a month. Sir Gordon is sure of it." "Then it is a very wonderful machine, Mr. Otway?" "So wonderful that you could pack it up in a hair-trunk, they tell me. The engine’s a gem—just like a toy. The frame looks like a torpedo—it’s as light as feathers. We shall see something to-morrow, Lady Delayne, and I’m jolly glad I’m at Andana, anyway. They start from the slope before the Park at nine o’clock. Benny has to fly right over Mont Blanc, then to Zermatt, and back across the Weisshorn. He should be here before dark to win. If he does it—well, I hope the Palace will not catch fire; but I shouldn’t wonder if it did. You’ll be coming, of course. We shall see you there in the morning?"