So for the present he decided to keep his own counsel regarding Andrew Norton. Not even a hint would he throw out concerning the tenant of The Croft. If he did so, Barcroft could not help showing antipathy to his friend Norton, and the latter, scenting danger, would be doubly wary.
Yet, knowing that there was a price on Peter Barcroft's head, although he did not as yet connect Norton's presence at Tarleigh with the Kaiser's blood-moneyed decree, Entwistle realised that he would have to keep a watchful eye upon his newly-found friend in order to guard him from the possibility of impending peril.
CHAPTER XXV
THE BOMBING EXPEDITION
OFF Zeebrugge once more. In the pale grey dawn of a November morning yet another strafing operation was about to take place. The Huns, who had converted the peaceful little Belgian fishing port into a hornets' nest, were to be allowed no rest.
Approaching the coast, the undulating dunes of which were just visible against the pale light of the eastern sky, were eight monitors, their powerful guns cocked up at a grotesque angle in readiness to open fire at a six-mile range. At a considerable distance astern were the seaplane-carriers "Hippodrome," "Arena" and "Cursus," while in a far-flung line ahead, astern and abeam, were the swarm of destroyers and patrol boats whose mission it was to promptly "scotch" any U-boat that, more daring than the rest of the cowardly crew, might attempt to let loose a torpedo at the converted liners. Already the Hun had learnt the lesson that it was almost a matter of impossibility to sink a monitor by torpedo, even though the weapons were "set" to run only a few feet beneath the surface. Coupled with the knowledge of the fact that it was "unhealthy" to be anywhere in the vicinity of craft flying the White Ensign, when there were others proudly displaying the Red Ensign and which were practically incapable of defence, the U-boats took good care to give the bombarding flotilla a wide berth.
Already the "Arena" and "Cursus" had dispatched their complement of seaplanes for the purpose of registering the result of the monitors' fire, but up to the present the airmen on board the "Hippodrome" had received no orders to board their respective "buses" and hie them to the scene of action.
"They've opened the ball," exclaimed Kirkwood, as the monitor on the left of the line let fly with her 14-inch gun.
"An obvious performance," remarked Fuller. "Unless one were both blind and deaf. More to the point: why are we being held in reserve, I wonder?"
"Dunno," added another flying-officer. "In the case of you three fellows there might be a plausible explanation. You've been so jolly keen on getting away from the ship that the skipper won't give you another chance. By Jove! That was a good one!"
Somewhere in the vicinity of Zeebrugge a dense cloud of black smoke had been hurled hundreds of feet into the air. One of the British shells had found a particularly satisfying target, for either a petrol depôt or an ammunition "dump" had been sent sky-high, with, possibly, a few hundred Huns to boot.
Yet no sound of the explosion could be heard, for the monitors' guns outvoiced that. The coast-defence craft were letting fly as quickly as the hydraulic loaders performed their task, and the gigantic yet docile weapons could be trained upon the practically invisible objective.
It was by no means a one-sided action. From cunningly concealed shore batteries, that seemed to multiply with hydra-headed persistence, German shells hurtled through the air, for the most part ricochetting harmlessly. A few, however, "got home." One monitor, listing badly to starboard, was already crawling slowly out of range. Another had been set on fire, but, the conflagration being quickly subdued, she "carried on" with calm and awful deliberation.
It had been one of the tenets of war that armoured ships were more than a match for shore batteries. The mobility of the former and the knowledge of the fixed position of the latter accounted for the theory—a theory that had been justified by the bombardment of Alexandria. But in the greatest war that the world has yet seen this idea received a rude shock. The skill with which huge guns can be loaded, ranged and trained upon a moving target rather more than equalised matters. Thus the old forts on the Dardanelles were quickly reduced to a heap of ruins by the guns of the "Queen Elizabeth," but this did not prevent the Turks bringing heavier ordnance to bear upon the Allied squadrons as they attempted in vain to force the historic Straits.
But there has been yet another swing of the pendulum. In an engagement betwixt ships and forts there was a deciding factor—the command of the air. Provided airmen from the attacking squadron could assist by observing the hits of the naval guns and by dropping quantities of powerful explosives on the hostile batteries the advantage would rest with those who held command of the sea. Nor was mere observing and bomb-dropping on defended positions sufficient. It was necessary to harass the enemy's lines of communication and prevent reserves of men and ammunition being rushed up to the coast.
"Ten to one we're down for a 'stunt,'" hazarded Barcroft. "That's why we are cooling our heels here. Ah! I thought so," he added, as the airmen were summoned to receive instructions preparatory to a flight.
A quarter of an hour later Billy Barcroft felt like dancing a hornpipe on the quarter-deck. He had been given a task after his own heart—to bomb the German hangars at Lierre, a town about six or seven miles south-east of the fortress of Antwerp and a distance of eighty miles, as the crow flies, from the position taken up by the seaplane carriers. To Fuller was deputed the business of wrecking the important railway station of Aerschot, while the other pilots were likewise given definite instructions to drop their cargoes of explosives on specified places of military importance. The airmen were enjoined to avoid as far as possible encounters with hostile machines on the outward journey, the importance of reaching their respective objectives being paramount to the excitement of aerial duels with Hun flying men.
"We'll be within sight of one another most of the time, Barcroft, old man," said Fuller, as he signed to his observer to take his place in the machine. "Now, Gregory, all ready?"
Fuller's companion, a sparely-built sub-lieutenant, whose long, hooked nose and obliquely placed eyes gave him the appearance of a bird, nodded assent.
"Well, good luck!" shouted Barcroft.
The words were drowned by the roar of the engine, but the lieutenant instinctively realised their meaning. With a cheery wave of his gauntletted hand he started on his long flight.
Thirty-seconds later Barcroft got away, with Kirkwood as his observer. There had been a slight rivalry between Billy and Fuller as to who should take the A.P., for the lieutenant had regarded the latter as his own right-hand man since the night of the encounter with the Zeppelins, while Barcroft claimed priority. The matter had been decided by the spin of a coin, with the result that the A.P. was now on his way to Lierre with Barcroft.
High above the bombarding monitors flew the powerfully engined seaplane, now nearly half a mile in the wake of Fuller's "bus." At regular intervals astern came the rest of the aerial raiders, all rocking slightly in the disturbed air caused by the concussion of the heavy guns.
Ten minutes were sufficient to bring Barcroft's machine over the Belgian coast. Acting upon previous instructions he maintained an altitude of eleven thousand feet, at which height it was practically invisible from the shore, across which clouds of smoke and dust were slowly drifting as the British shells burst with devastating effect upon the Huns' positions.