"Yes; it's the Chinese compound," agreed Derek. "Pity the Boche didn't make a mistake and drop an egg into the barbed-wire enclosures to the right. There are about four hundred Prussians there, men of the lowest type of Hun I've ever met. Hallo! what's Fritz doing?" Both officers stopped and gazed aloft. The German biplane was diving rapidly right into the eye of the searchlight. It was a deliberate move. The Hun was descending under perfect control, with his engine running all out, straight for the searchlight projector. "Look alive, old man!" exclaimed Derek, gripping his chum by the arm and forcing him into the dug-out. The two were only just in time, for as they descended the steps they could hear the rattle of a machine-gun and the splaying of hundreds of bullets upon the concrete. Five minutes later the raid was over. The daring Hun had got away apparently untouched. Not only had he bombed the hospital, the Chinese compound, and part of the aerodrome, but by flying down the path of the searchlight and making good use of his machine-gun he had "wiped out" the entire crew of the searchlight itself. While deprecating the wanton attack upon a Red Cross building in no mild terms, the R.A.F. men were not slow to praise the nerve and daring of the Boche, who, braving the Archibalds, had descended to within fifty feet of the ground in order to use his machine-gun with the deadliest results. "Have a gasper?" asked Kaye, tendering a battered cigarette-case in which every dent had a story attached to it. "There's nothing like a cigarette when you've been turned out." "Thanks, no," replied Derek. "Think I'll try a pipe before I turn in again. Wonder if there'll be any more stunts? Hope not, as I'm on patrol to-morrow--or to-day, rather," he added, glancing at his wristlet-watch. A minute or so later Derek knocked the ashes from his pipe, dived between the blankets, and was fast asleep, as if a hostile bombing-raid was merely one of the side-shows of life. Just as the first streaks of dawn stole across the eastern sky the airmen were turned out by another alarm. Officers and men doubled on to the parade-ground to the accompaniment of a regular fusillade of bombs detonating at no great distance away. "No. 1 Flight--in fours--right--double march!" No. 1 Flight, detailed for special duty, promptly hurried off, while the remaining flights were ordered to stand at ease. The nature of the commotion was soon obvious. The Chinks, as the Chinese labourers are termed, were seeking revenge for the deaths of several of their fellow-countrymen during the raid. With true Oriental cunning and stealth they had raided a store containing live Mills's bombs, and, armed with these sinister weapons, had surrounded the barbed-wire enclosure where the German prisoners were caged.