"I vote we look up the Commissioner at his private quarters," suggested Bramsdean. "After all, the 'Golden Hind' won't have refilled her petrol tanks yet."

"'Spose not," growled Fosterd.y.k.e. "Someone's illegible signature's required for the indents, I presume. Right-o, Bramsdean, let's rout out this indispensable."

Somewhat to Peter's surprise the official was discovered with little difficulty. He had just finished his lunch, and as the meal had been a satisfying one, he was in high good humour.

"So Count von Sinzig has five hours' start, eh?" remarked the worthy representative of the International Air Board. "That's nothing. You'll make that up easily. The doc.u.ments? Ah--yes--quite so. Unfortunately, the seals are in my office. I'll be along there very shortly."

"Isn't your signature enough?" asked the baronet.

The great one hesitated. On the one hand, he wanted to impress his callers by admitting that his signature was "absolutely it." On the other, years of punctilious devotion to the ethics of red tape urged him to deprecate such a cutting of the Gordian knot.

"No, Sir Reginald," he replied. "Both are necessary. One is not conclusively in order without the other. I'll be at the office by three."

It was now a quarter-past two. Fosterd.y.k.e felt strongly inclined to enquire pointedly why three-quarters of an hour would be taken up by the Commissioner in getting from his quarters to his office.

By ten minutes past three the various doc.u.ments were sealed and signed.

As the compet.i.tors were on the point of taking their departure the Commissioner spoke again.

"I don't seem to have seen Form 4456," he observed dryly. "That had to be obtained before you left England."

"It wasn't," replied the baronet, bluntly. "An oversight, I admit, but you don't suggest that I return to England to get it?"

"It is necessary," was the rejoinder. "Without it the flight would not be in order. In fact, as an authorised representative of the International Air Board I can rule you out of the contest."

"Piffle!" declared Fosterd.y.k.e hotly. He was rapidly nearing the end of his restraint. "This, I may observe, is a contest of aircraft, not a paper compet.i.tion. Form 4456 is not an absolute essential. Since you require it, I presume the case can be met if my representative in England has the form made out and sent to you by registered post. It will be in your hands before the 'Golden Hind' completes the circuit."

The Commissioner consulted a ponderous tome, chock-a-block with rules and regulations for aerial navigation, written in official phraseology so confusing that it was possible to have more than one interpretation for at least seventy-five per cent. of the complicated paragraphs.

Quoting Article 1071, sub-section 3c, the official made the discovery that the rendering of Form 4456 could be dispensed with in circ.u.mstances laid down in Article 2074, section 5c, etc., etc. Thereupon he rang a bell, summoned a head clerk, who in turn deputed a junior to fetch a certain form. When this was forthcoming a blob of sealing-wax, the impress of a seal, and the great man's illegible signature, and the trick was done. As far as the International Air Board was concerned the "Golden Hind" was a recognised and duly authorised compet.i.tor for the Chauva.s.se Prize.

There was still the Recognised Military Authority to be dealt with.

That official was urbanity personified. He did everything in his power to expedite matters, but red tape was stronger than gold lace.

The loud report of a gun warned Fosterd.y.k.e and his companion that sunset had descended upon the Rock. The gates of the fortress were closed till sunrise.

"Won't affect you," explained the courteous official. "You can get back by the boat from the Old Mole. I won't keep you very much longer. It really isn't my fault."

"Gibraltar was a bad choice of mine for a starting-point," observed Fosterd.y.k.e.

"'Fraid so," agreed the other. "Ah, here we are. Thank you, Wilson.

Where's my fountain pen? Where's---- Oh, dash it all, where's everything? ... That's settled, then. Have a drink before you go? No?

Well, cheerio, and the very best of luck."

Armed with the necessary doc.u.ments, "sealed, signed, and delivered,"

Fosterd.y.k.e and Bramsdean found themselves in the open air. Darkness had already fallen. It was a good two miles from Little Europa Point to the Old Mole, and not a vehicle of any sort was to be seen.

Tired, hot, and hungry they reached the spot where a naval pinnace was supposed to be awaiting them. It was not there. A message erroneously delivered had sent the boat back to the dockyard. Not to be done, Fosterd.y.k.e hired a native boat, paying without demur a villainous-looking Rock Scorp the excessive sum he demanded.

For a quarter of an hour the boat rowed about while the baronet and his companion gazed aloft in the hope of spotting the "Golden Hind" against the dark sky.

"She's gone!" declared Bramsdean.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Fosterd.y.k.e, irritably. "Why should she?"

Nevertheless in his mind he was convinced that such was the case.

Presently the boat ran close to the buoy to which the airship had been moored. Both men recognised the buoy by the number painted on it. No wire rope ran upwards to an invisible object floating in the darkness of the night.

Unaccountably, mysteriously the "Golden Hind" had disappeared.

CHAPTER VIII--CAST ADRIFT

Enrico Jaures, Spaniard on his father's side and German on his mother's, with a dash of almost every other Continental nation's blood in his veins, lived or rather existed in a mean dwelling behind the King's Bastion, on the west side of Gibraltar.

Indolent, thriftless, and easy-going on the one hand, crafty and quarrelsome on the other, he possessed all the bad points that characterise the criminal cla.s.ses of the two countries where his parents first saw the light. What he did for a living and how he earned money was a mystery even to his polyglot neighbours. Yet, without being well off, he appeared to be always "flush" with money.

Contrary to the general demeanour of the Rock Scorps, Enrico Jaures expressed no astonishment when the "Golden Hind" appeared over the high ground beyond Algeciras. He was expecting the airship, although he had to confess to himself that she had certainly arrived prematurely.

Evidently this was not according to plan.

He sat, smoked innumerable cigarettes, and thought as deeply as a half-breed Spaniard can. Twice he got up, yawned, stretched himself and ambled back to the house to partake of a meal consisting princ.i.p.ally of olives, garlic, and maize. Then back he came to his post of vantage and sat gazing stolidly at the five hundred feet of inflated gasbag riding easily to her wire cable, while her crew, bringing the airship close to the surface, were busily engaged in pumping up petrol from a tank-lighter.

The shadows were lengthening considerably when a white-robed Moor approached the reclining Jaures--a dignified, olive-featured man, wearing a thick black beard and moustache.

"The Englishman has started," observed the new-comer, speaking in Spanish with a decidedly guttural accent.

"That I know," rejoined Enrico.

"But not so von Sinzig," continued the other in a low tone, giving a furtive glance over his shoulder. "Until he arrives at Ma.s.sowah it is doubtful whether he will know that this English airship is on his heels.

Why is she here so soon?"

"I know not," replied Jaures. "Two men landed from her. They went in the direction of Buena Vista."

The pseudo Moor shrugged his shoulders.

"Two thousand five hundred pesetas are awaiting you in the Banqua del Espiritu at Algeciras, friend Enrico," he said in a low voice. "Prevent that airship's departure even for twelve hours and the money will be paid you."

"How can I?" asked Jaures, showing more interest than he had hitherto displayed. "I cannot place a bomb on board her, like I did on board the _Henri Artois_ at Barcelona."

"S'sh! Not so loud," exclaimed the other warningly. "How you earn the money is your affair."

The supposed Moor pa.s.sed on, leaving Enrico Jaures gazing thoughtfully at the British airship.

He sat and pondered until the refuelling operations were completed and the "Golden Hind" allowed to rise a hundred feet above the sea. With the setting of the sun a gentle breeze sprang up from the nor'east, causing the hitherto almost motionless airship to sway as she fretted at her cable.