"Time!" ejaculated Hamerton, rolling over and kneeling up. "Now, easy ahead; we'll come across another wire entanglement unless I'm very much mistaken."
They were now going with the wind--the worst possible direction, since the sound of any danger in front of them was carried away, while their own approach could be heard by any sentry who happened to be to leeward.
Thirty yards from the edge they threw themselves upon the grass. Within a stone's throw was a great-coated figure standing stockstill. It was one of the chain of sentries guarding the barbed-wire fence that completely encircled the secret Zeppelin station.
Motioning with his hand, Detroit indicated that they should make a detour. Hamerton shook his head. He could just distinguish the outlines of another sentry a hundred yards to the right. "Wait!" whispered the Sub.
Presently the nearest sentry sloped his rifle and began to pace in the direction of the one Hamerton had discerned to his right. When the two met they evidently indulged in a breach of discipline, for although the fugitives heard not a word the sentries were apparently talking.
"I want to make sure of the length of his beat," whispered Hamerton. "Then the next time he clears out we'll make a dash for the fence."
Back walked the sentry. Stopping for a moment to draw up the collar of his greatcoat, for it was just beginning to rain, he made his way past the two lurking men and disappeared in the murky darkness.
Presumably the soldier was not on speaking terms with the sentry at the other end of his beat, for in a very short space of time he returned. Almost abreast of the fugitives he stopped short, faced outwards, and levelled his rifle and bayonet, as if something suspicious had attracted his attention. Then, having satisfied himself that there was no cause for alarm, he made off towards the post on his left.
"Just you wait!" replied the American. "Let's shift back a bit."
He pointed towards a speck of light that flickered in the now howling breeze.
"It's the rounds, by Jove!" muttered the Sub. "That's right; we'll hide in this hollow and trust to luck."
"Halt! Who goes there?" demanded the sentry in German.
"Advance, rounds; all's well!" exclaimed the soldier, recovering his rifle.