Right and left, above and below, in front and behind them, the whole sky was suddenly alive with shell bursts; and into the observer's brain came the recollection that he had an interview with General Joffre at eight o'clock that morning! He found himself actually smiling at the thought, and wishing that he could speak to the man in front of him--the helmeted man with rounded shoulders bent over his wheel, who pressed levers and bent the control pillar this way and that, as he sent the biplane zigzagging through the heavens with a suddenness that bumped Dennis about, and threatened more than once to fling him out into eternity. He did not feel the cold, although it was intense; and he had the presence of mind to pass a strap round his waist and fasten himself in. And then he crouched there, marvelling at their luck and the iron nerve of his companion, who, so far, was responsible for their escape. He knew that they were already a long way from the blazing airship which they had destroyed, and a feeling of exultation took possession of the lad. They were going to win through--they would do it yet; it was written that they were to get free, and he closed his eyes, giddy with the whirl of mingled emotions that filled him. They had eluded the searchlights for a moment, but another screaming shell overtook them, and as it burst he opened his eyes, and saw Claude Laval sink forward and huddle up on top of his wheel. "By Jingo, they've got him!" gasped Dennis, sickening with fear for the first time; but recovering himself on the instant, he flung off the strap and reached forward in an attempt to get to the wounded Frenchman without any very distinct idea of what he could do if he succeeded. But Laval, as though he had read his thoughts, straightened himself and gave a jerk with his head, at the same time sending the machine earthward in a nose dive at an appalling angle. Dennis clung to the front of the circular cockpit which was the observer's post, and again his eyes closed as the downward rush took his breath away. "Poor little mater!" And there was a world of agony in the boy's thought, interrupted by finding himself precipitated backwards in a heap, as the _nacelle_ lifted and the dive was checked. Only for a moment, however, for down they shot again, the downward course being a harrowing succession of switchback curves, which ended in a curious silent glide on even keel, a terrific jolting and a dead stop. "Are you there?" said an odd, far-away voice, as Dennis slowly gathered himself up with a sigh of heartfelt relief. "Yes, I'm here. You don't mean to say we're actually on the ground and safe!" he cried hoarsely. "Hush! Do not speak too loud!" groaned Laval. "We are as safe as we can be on German soil, but I am afraid my right shoulder is broken; and worse still, the engines stopped of their own accord before we made that last dive."