Thirty miles to the nor'ard the rugged uplands of Dartmoor could be clearly discerned, while ahead, and slightly on the starboard bow, could be seen the indented outlines of the Cornish coast, for Derek was purposely keeping within easy distance of shore until well over the Scillies. Then it was his intention to strike a bee-line for his destination. Occasionally altering the automatic course-director, Derek found that he had plenty of time at his disposal. After a while things became tedious. Cooped up in a glass box he missed the actual sensation of flying through the air. It was more like sitting in a carriage of an express train than being absolutely in control of an air-craft. Compared with the lift and heave of the ocean the motion seemed a very tame affair. "By Jove! the Pater was right after all," soliloquized Derek. "Flying's all very well; but it's the sea that scores--scores every time. There's nothing to equal a life afloat." He let down one of the sliding glass panels. The rush of air acted like a tonic. The suggestion of actual aerial speed reasserted itself. There was something indescribably joyous in the sensation. He could almost imagine himself back in his old 'bus circling over the Hun lines. He missed the airman's flying-helmet, goggles, and leather coat. It was bitterly cold. The wind buffeted his face until his eyes smarted and his ears throbbed and tingled, yet it was better, in his opinion, than being cooped up in a glass box. Just then the door opened and one of the crew entered. Vainly the man tried to make himself understood, and it was not until the glass slide had been replaced that Derek was able to engage in conversation. "The actuating wire of the starboard aileron of the lower plane's carried away, sir," reported the man in quite a matter-of-fact tone. A housewife on discovering that a cat had stolen the morning's milk would have shown much more concern. "I'll just nip along and make a temporary repair." "Very good!" replied Derek, cutting out the automatic control, and grasping the joy-stick. "Carry on!" The airman withdrew. Presently Derek saw him cautiously making his way along outside the covered fuselage; then, throwing himself flat upon the plane and grasping the forward edge, the man began to work his way outwards. Only his hold upon the sharp edge of the cambered wing prevented him being swept away like a piece of paper by the two-hundred-mile-per-hour wind.