Читать книгу Our Young Aeroplane Scouts in France and Belgium. Or, Saving the Fortunes of the Trouvilles онлайн

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“What’ll we do now?” That was more what Henri wanted to know.

“Get back to the machine before daylight.” Billy’s main idea was that the safest place was a couple of thousand feet in the air.

Daylight was not far away. Henri and Leon held a committee meeting to determine the best route back to the fortifications. The little Belgian was sure of his ground, and before sunrise, by countless twists and turns, the trio were back to the stone hangar where the aëroplane rested.

The first faint streaks of dawn gave light enough for Billy to do his tuning work about the machine. Henri was bending over, in the act of testing the fuel supply, when there was a thud of horses’ hoofs on all sides of the enclosure, followed by a shrill cry from Leon:

“Sauvez vous! Vite! Vite!” (Save yourself! Quick! Quick!)

With that the little Belgian frantically tugged at the aëroplane, and not until our Aviator Boys had swung the machine into the open and leaped to their places in the frame did the brave youngster quit his post. Then he ran like a rabbit, waving quick farewell, and disappeared in the wilderness of stone.