"More by good fortune than anything else," said Lieutenant Laval modestly. "You see, first of all I killed his observer with a lucky shot from my mitrailleuse and wounded the pilot himself. It was death or capture for him--it proved to be both. My machine--a Voisin--was one of the best, and, finding it impossible to escape, the Hun certainly made a very fine descent. He must have died at the moment the 'plane came to ground. And that reminds me--our success will depend on our masquerading as Germans, and we must use their clothing; they are both here." There was a tinge of gravity in his voice as he led the way to some bushes a few yards off, where, stretched out side by side, lay two dead men with a mackintosh spread over them. "They were brave, although they were Boches," said Laval. "And you will see that one of them is wearing an Iron Cross; I have not disturbed it." In a few minutes they had removed the leather jackets lined with sheepskin from the two aviators. "Henceforward we had better speak entirely in German, you and I; it will be good practice in case we require to use it," said Laval. And when they had equipped themselves they climbed up, and the Frenchman explained the compressed-air starting-gear and the various methods of control to Dennis. "You must know these things," he said, with a smile, "so that you can take charge if anything happens to me; but these are first-rate machines, and with their dual ignition and the two separate carburettors they tell me there is very little engine trouble with them. However, my friend, we are about to see what we are about to see." He glanced at his watch in the rapidly fading light. "For some reason observer and pilot sit back to back," said Laval. "But you can slue your seat round and work your gun from the right if you like. You will find everything ready for use, signalling lamp and a fine map." And with a blue pencil he marked off the course they were about to take and the various landmarks, for which a sharp look out must be kept. Then the whir of machinery cut off all possibility of further conversation; Dennis gazed round at the darkening landscape as Laval released her, and after a short run forward over the grassland the Aviatik began to rise. So far, Dennis had not counted the cost of his adventurous expedition, or the by no means remote possibilities of his being captured and sent to terrible Ruhleben. He had only seen the dash and daring of it all, and now he could only see the velvety blackness that lay thousands of feet beneath, where the earth was. Once from very far below them the boom of guns made itself heard, even above the flogging of the engines and the whir of the tractor in front of him, and his pilot handed back a scrap of paper on which he had scrawled some words. Switching on his torch Dennis read: "We are crossing our own lines now. That light away to my left is Metz. We are over Lorraine, and I am going to turn south-east."