"Heavy weather!" echoed the Major. "It's been perfectly calm here. What was the meteorological report for South-west England yesterday, Captain Wells? H'm! 'Heavy squalls; wind attaining a velocity of sixty miles an hour.' Hope Daventry didn't strike that and get into trouble." "Aeroplane somewhere!" announced one of the junior officers. There was a rush to the windows. Since the armistice there had been few air-craft in the vicinity of Sableridge, and when one did put in an appearance it attracted more attention than in those seemingly far-off days when the world was at war. A deep bass hum, momentarily growing louder and louder, proclaimed the fact that a super-powerful aeroplane was approaching. "A triplane--there she is!" exclaimed the Officer of the Watch. "By Jove, she's coming down! I'll have to turn out the duty-boat's crew." He hurried off to the telephone, while the rest of his brother officers, many of them capless, raced out of the ante-room to the water's edge. "Some bird that!" remarked one. "I believe it's a Yankee just across for the trans-Atlantic flight." "Yankee my grandmother!" interrupted another contemptuously. "That chap knows his job, and he knows where he's landing. Look! He's making straight for the pier-head, against wind and tide." Like an enormous hawk the triplane swooped down, coming in contact with the water with little more than a double "plop" and a small cloud of foam. Then, disdaining the assistance of a motor-boat, the giant sea-plane glided on the surface, coming to a stop within ten feet of the now crowded pier-head. A coil of rope was dexterously flung and the end made fast; then, to everyone's surprise, the window of the pilot's cabin was lowered, and the head and shoulders of Lieutenant Derek Daventry were revealed. "What have you been up to, old bird?" enquired Kaye, as his chum ascended the pier steps. "Keeping late hours," replied Derek, with a prodigious yawn. "An' now I'm going to sleep the clock round." It is one thing to make a resolution and quite another to keep it. Derek, having reported himself, promptly retreated to his quarters, bolted the door, undressed, and turned in. Three hours later--it was a few minutes after the morning papers had arrived--he was aroused by a tremendous hubbub outside. The door rattled and shook under the hammer-like blows of half a dozen lusty officers. "Open the door!" they bawled. "Push off!" replied Derek. "Rag someone else; but for goodness sake let me alone!" But with an utter disregard for official warnings concerning the care and maintenance of private buildings appropriated for official use, the boisterous crew without promptly charged the door with their shoulders. Locks and hinges were not proof against the onslaught, and, with a crash, the woodwork was burst, and a swarm of officers poured in, headed by Kaye, who was brandishing a copy of _The Times_.