"They make the devil of a noise."
"Unless they are silenced. There's been a lot of progress made in that direction—in this country."
"I hadn't heard of that," I said. "I've been away from flying for so long."
He knocked the ash from the end of his cigar on to a plate. "The same thing happened last Thursday night," he said. "This time the machine was seen. It got too close to the light, and was seen clearly for a few seconds in the light of its own flare. We were fully alive to the situation then, and certain anti-aircraft measures had been put in hand. Well, they didn't come off. The machine got away without being identified."
I blew a long cloud of smoke. "I imagine you'll make it pretty hot for him if he comes again," I remarked.
"If he comes again," repeated Dermott. "He may not. We're by no means sure that he got away on Thursday. In fact, we think he landed. Here."
I paused for a moment before replying. "I see," I said at last. "What makes you think that?"
"Two bits of evidence. The lighthouse-keepers at the Nab Tower report that they heard the engine of an aeroplane come on suddenly, not so very far away. They've got an acoustic apparatus there that tells them roughly the direction of any sound. It's a simple thing; they use it for ships in fog. They turned it on to this aeroplane."
He smiled. "Now, their evidence is rather interesting. They say that the sound was steady for half a minute or so—just the normal noise of an aeroplane. It seemed to be coming straight towards them. Then they heard the engine shut off, and opened out again. That happened three times. Then the machine seemed to stop coming towards them and apparently turned towards the coast, travelling in a northerly direction till they lost it. None of our own aircraft were in the vicinity at the time.
"Apart from that," he said, "we have definite evidence that the machine turned inland."
I raised my eyebrows.
[Pg 72] "We had a bit of real good luck. A sergeant fitter from the Gosport squadron was on leave that night, and was cycling with his girl between Chichester and Arundel. He's a Chichester man. He heard this aeroplane come over him, and he saw it. There was a moon behind some clouds—thin clouds, so that there was a light patch in the sky. He got off his bicycle when he heard the machine, and as he was looking round he saw it cross this patch of light."
I moistened my lips. "That's a bit of luck," I said.
He nodded. "Just one chance in a hundred—but he saw it. The machine was flying due north, and by his account it was climbing to gain height rapidly. He says it was a large single-engined biplane, possibly with extensions to the upper wing. As an Air Force sergeant, he could tell a good deal from the noise of the machine. He was of the opinion that the engine was a twelve-cylinder, water-cooled, broad-arrow type—three banks of four—of about four or five hundred horse-power, fitted with a large, slow-running propeller, driven through an epicyclic gear with a reduction of at least two to one, and with a double exhaust-manifold that carried the gases well down the fuselage."
Lord Arner laid down his cigar and drew one hand across his eyes. "Now that, to me," he said, "is one of the most curious features of Commander Dermott's story. I find it most remarkable that this man should be able to give full details of the engine in an aeroplane merely from the sound as it flew over him. Most remarkable, and most extraordinary."
He relapsed into silence.
Dermott paused for a minute, and then continued: "He only saw the machine for a few seconds, but he continued to hear it for several minutes. When it crossed the moon from him, he judged it to be at a height of about three thousand feet, and climbing rapidly. He heard its engine for two or three minutes longer, by which time it was a considerable distance to the north of him. The engine was then shut off, and he heard nothing more."
I nodded slowly. "The machine landed?"
[Pg 73]
"Unless they are silenced. There's been a lot of progress made in that direction—in this country."
"I hadn't heard of that," I said. "I've been away from flying for so long."
He knocked the ash from the end of his cigar on to a plate. "The same thing happened last Thursday night," he said. "This time the machine was seen. It got too close to the light, and was seen clearly for a few seconds in the light of its own flare. We were fully alive to the situation then, and certain anti-aircraft measures had been put in hand. Well, they didn't come off. The machine got away without being identified."
I blew a long cloud of smoke. "I imagine you'll make it pretty hot for him if he comes again," I remarked.
"If he comes again," repeated Dermott. "He may not. We're by no means sure that he got away on Thursday. In fact, we think he landed. Here."
I paused for a moment before replying. "I see," I said at last. "What makes you think that?"
"Two bits of evidence. The lighthouse-keepers at the Nab Tower report that they heard the engine of an aeroplane come on suddenly, not so very far away. They've got an acoustic apparatus there that tells them roughly the direction of any sound. It's a simple thing; they use it for ships in fog. They turned it on to this aeroplane."
He smiled. "Now, their evidence is rather interesting. They say that the sound was steady for half a minute or so—just the normal noise of an aeroplane. It seemed to be coming straight towards them. Then they heard the engine shut off, and opened out again. That happened three times. Then the machine seemed to stop coming towards them and apparently turned towards the coast, travelling in a northerly direction till they lost it. None of our own aircraft were in the vicinity at the time.
"Apart from that," he said, "we have definite evidence that the machine turned inland."
I raised my eyebrows.
[Pg 72] "We had a bit of real good luck. A sergeant fitter from the Gosport squadron was on leave that night, and was cycling with his girl between Chichester and Arundel. He's a Chichester man. He heard this aeroplane come over him, and he saw it. There was a moon behind some clouds—thin clouds, so that there was a light patch in the sky. He got off his bicycle when he heard the machine, and as he was looking round he saw it cross this patch of light."
I moistened my lips. "That's a bit of luck," I said.
He nodded. "Just one chance in a hundred—but he saw it. The machine was flying due north, and by his account it was climbing to gain height rapidly. He says it was a large single-engined biplane, possibly with extensions to the upper wing. As an Air Force sergeant, he could tell a good deal from the noise of the machine. He was of the opinion that the engine was a twelve-cylinder, water-cooled, broad-arrow type—three banks of four—of about four or five hundred horse-power, fitted with a large, slow-running propeller, driven through an epicyclic gear with a reduction of at least two to one, and with a double exhaust-manifold that carried the gases well down the fuselage."
Lord Arner laid down his cigar and drew one hand across his eyes. "Now that, to me," he said, "is one of the most curious features of Commander Dermott's story. I find it most remarkable that this man should be able to give full details of the engine in an aeroplane merely from the sound as it flew over him. Most remarkable, and most extraordinary."
He relapsed into silence.
Dermott paused for a minute, and then continued: "He only saw the machine for a few seconds, but he continued to hear it for several minutes. When it crossed the moon from him, he judged it to be at a height of about three thousand feet, and climbing rapidly. He heard its engine for two or three minutes longer, by which time it was a considerable distance to the north of him. The engine was then shut off, and he heard nothing more."
I nodded slowly. "The machine landed?"
[Pg 73]
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