Dennis, having written down the list, promised to bring them over by air next day, adding that he would be at Brussels just about one o’clock.
Then Geoffrey rose, handed the telephones to the Belgian operator, and switched off.
He had been nearly two months in Belgium, and had had quite a pleasant time. The Marconi Company were fitting the new aerodrome at Bouvignes, opposite old-world Dinant, with a one-and-a-half kilowatt telegraph and telephone set of exactly the same pattern as the new one they had installed at Croydon. Bouvignes had been adopted as the centre of Belgian civil aviation, air lines having been arranged to perform daily services to Paris, Copenhagen, Berlin, Milan, and other cities; hence it was necessary to be in wireless communication with the aerodromes at those places.
Only three weeks before Mrs. Beverley had brought Sylvia over to see Brussels, as she had never been there, and Geoffrey had for a week acted as their guide and shown them the sights of the pleasant little Belgian capital. Of course, during the greater part of the day he was away at Bouvignes, but he returned to Brussels each evening, and the lovers spent many happy hours together.
Now, however, mother and daughter had gone on to Paris, leaving the young engineer to complete his work in preparation for the official tests before the new station was taken over by the Belgian authorities.
So next day about one o’clock Geoffrey returned to the aerodrome outside Brussels, and asked the Belgian wireless operator the whereabouts of the Handley-Page.
“She was over Ghent when I spoke to her five minutes ago. She ought to be in quite shortly,” was the reply in French.
So Geoffrey went outside and strained his eyes to the south-west until he at last saw a speck in the distance which each moment increased, until the giant machine approaching came gradually lower, and after making a turn of the aerodrome, landed gracefully against the wind.
“Hulloa, Falconer!” cried Dennis, a round-faced, boyish-looking fellow, as in his leather suit and helmet he climbed out of the machine. “I’ve got your gear all right.”
They waited for the passengers to land, five of them, and chatted the while. Then from among the sacks of mail from England he pulled out a small wooden box, saying: “I went up to Liverpool Street and got it early this morning.”