Part 20 (1/2)

Biggles finished dressing.

'Okay,' he went on. 'Now go aft and warn Bertie and Algy to get in the gun turrets and keep an eye open for hostile aircraft-and by hostile I mean our own. We're flying under false colours, but our boys are not to know it.'

Ginger glanced through the window and saw that the rugged outline of the famous Azure Coast was already far behind. The searchlights were stil waving, but they were mere matchstalks of light. He went back into the cabin and had a few words with the others, who had arranged themselves as comfortably as circ.u.mstances permitted. Mario, looking rather frightened, was squatting on the floor.

Henri, pale but conscious, lay on the bunk. He was wel enough to give Ginger a smile. Ginger received a similar greeting from Jeanette.

'Biggles wants you to man the turrets and watch for any of our lads who happen to be out looking for trouble,' he said, addressing Algy and Bertie.

'I say, that's a bit of a bore,' answered Bertie. 'By the way, why are we heading south? That isn't the way home.'

'It's the way we've got to go,' reported Ginger.

'We're short of juice. Biggles is making for the Algerian coast. He reckons we might just do it, but it's going to be a close thing. That's al . I'm going for'ard-see you later.' Ginger returned to the c.o.c.kpit.

For more than two hours the Savoia roared its trackless way across a lonely moonlit sea. The islands of Corsica and Sardinia with their needle crags had long been left behind. No aircraft was seen. The only marine craft was a destroyer, or light cruiser, off the south-west coast of Sardinia.

'How about cal ing up our people on the radio and tel ing them we're on the way?' suggested Ginger once, in a moment of absent-mindedness.

'And cal up a bunch of Italian fighters at the same time?' answered Biggles sarcastical y. 'Leave it alone. I've had al the trouble I want for a little while.'

Biggles was now flying with one eye on the petrol gauge and the other on the southern horizon-so to speak. Fuel was getting low. At a quarter to six a pink glow in the east heralded the approach of another day, and when, a few minutes later, a purple smudge materialized across the horizon Biggles announced his relief.

'Just in time,' he observed. 'We're down to our last pint. Keep your eyes skinned. Our only danger now is from our own aircraft.'

'That would be a pity,' murmured Ginger.

In ten minutes, under a sky aflame with colour and the disc of the sun coming up like a enormous toy bal oon, the smudge had crystal ized into a sandy coastline backed by sloping cliffs whose faces had been scarred and grooved by centuries of sun and wind and rain. The land ran east and west until it final y merged into the indefinite distance.

'Africa,' said Ginger quietly.

'Algeria-I hope,' rejoined Biggles. 'This is where we shal have to watch our step.'

Hardly had the words left his lips when the port motor choked; the other did the same, and after a few backfires they both cut out dead. By that time Biggles had pushed the control column forward, putting the aircraft into a shal ow glide towards the land.

'We shal just about do it,' he observed.

Bertie appeared. 'I say, chaps, get a move on,' he requested. 'There are three Hurricanes coming up astern.' As he spoke, from somewhere not far away came the snarling grunt of multiple machine guns.

Biggles threw the Savoia into a steep sideslip. To Bertie he shouted, 'Get out on the hul and put your hands up!'

Ginger looked down at a sea where white-capped breakers were flinging themselves on a foam-fringed beach. 'You'l never get down there,' he a.s.serted.

'I've got to,' answered Biggles grimly.

'She'l swamp.'

'I intend her to-in shal ow water,' said Biggles crisply. 'I'm afraid if we did manage to land our lads would shoot us up. I'm going to try to run in with the surf and beach her. There's nothing else for it. You'd better get aft and warn everybody to be ready for a crash-landing. You and Algy stand by Henri.'

Ginger went aft-no easy matter considering the angle of the aircraft-to find Bertie in the main gun-turret making frantic signals to the pursuing pilots, who were probably finding it difficult to bring their sights to bear on a target which, as Biggles intended by his sideslip, was travel ing on a deceptive course.

by his sideslip, was travel ing on a deceptive course.

'It'l be al right,' announced Ginger, with a confidence he certainly did not feel. 'We may have to crash-land on the sand. Be ready to get out quickly.'

He caught Jeanette's eyes and smiled encouragement, and then clutched at a seat as the aircraft came to even keel. Through a window he could see breakers curling for their rush at the beach. The aircraft was travel ing in the same direction. Then spray blotted out the scene.

The machine raced on, overtaking waves that slapped like giant clappers at the skimming keel.

Then came a shuddering jar that flung everybody forward. The door burst open. Water poured in and swirled along the floor. s.h.i.+ngle pattered like hail.

With a final crash the aircraft came to rest, listing a little to one side.

Sliding to the door Ginger saw that they were on the beach, on the fringe of the sea where lacy foam made scal oped patterns on the sand. Somewhere near an engine howled. 'Look after Henri!' he shouted, and running up the shelving beach lifted his arms as a sign of surrender. He was just in time. A diving Hurricane lifted its nose, and instead of firing, as had clearly been the pilot's intention, zoomed high. For an instant the noise of its motor drowned al other sounds. Al three Hurricanes went into a tight circle over the flying-boat.

Ginger turned to find Bertie and Algy coming ash.o.r.e with Henri, and the others fol owing. Biggles brought up the rear. Walking up the dry sand they stood in a little group. Biggles waved to the Hurricanes, and then, with the broad side of an oyster shel , wrote in huge letters on the smooth wet sand, the one word, 'British'. A Hurricane came in low, wing down, and then, banking steeply, raced along the beach towards the west.

'Do you know where we are?' Ginger asked Biggles.

'Not exactly, but I reckon we're somewhere east of Algiers,' answered Biggles. 'That looks like a vehicle coming along the coast road. Perhaps the driver wil give us our position. Let's go up.'

As it happened there was no need for them to go to the road for the vehicle turned out to be an American jeep fil ed with troops.

Biggles stopped, smiling. 'Looks like the Yanks are coming,' he observed. 'They've spotted us.'

The jeep stopped with a jerk. The troops jumped out, and with rifles and Tommy guns *2 advanced suspiciously, a sergeant ahead of the rest.

'Okay, boys,' cal ed Biggles, 'we're friends.'

'What goes on here?' growled the sergeant, after a glance at the Italian aircraft. 'Who are you?'