BETTY
"THAT'S more hopeful," ejaculated Flight sub-lieutenant Barcroft. "I
hear footsteps."
For perhaps half a minute he listened intently. He was not mistaken
in his surmise, but there was still the haunting doubt that the
benighted wayfarer might be proceeding in a different direction. But
no; the footsteps came nearer and nearer. It was not the firm tread
of a man, nor the clatter of a pair of Lancashire clogs.
"A woman, by Jove!" muttered Billy. "I'll have to be jolly careful
not to give her a fright. Rummy idea having to hail a craft of that
sort at this time of the morning. Wonder what brings her out in this
isolated spot?"
In his anxiety not to unduly alarm the approaching woman, the
flight-sub began to walk in her direction. It was, he decided, a
better course than to stand back until she passed.
"Excuse me," he said touching his cap, "but can you direct me to
Tarleigh?"
"Yes, I am going part of the way," was the reply in a decidedly
clear and pleasant voice, which spoke with perfect composure. "If
you like I'll go with you as far as Two Elms. It is then a straight
road."
"Thank you," said Barcroft, falling into step with his unknown
benefactor. "You see, I'm quite a stranger here."
"Hang it all!" he mused. "That voice seems familiar. A trim little
craft, too, I should imagine, although I can't see her face. Wonder
who she is?"
"You are a naval officer, I see," remarked the girl.
"Yes," admitted Billy. "On leave and going to a home I've never
seen. This raid affair made me late."
"And so it did me," added his companion. "By the bye, where was your
home before?"
"At Alderdene in Kent," replied Barcroft, somewhat
taken aback at the question. "Why do you ask?"
"I thought so," was the composed reply. "And your name is
Barcroft--Billy Barcroft."
"By Jove!" exclaimed the young officer. "How on earth do you know
that? I'm afraid I don't recognise you."
"You always had a bad memory for certain things, Mr. Barcroft," the
girl laughingly reminded him. "I felt almost positive it was you
directly you spoke. You see, the uniform and you have a most
characteristic helped me, manner of speaking."
"Have I?" asked Billy, still mystified. "And you have a good memory,
I presume?"
"Fairly reliable," admitted the girl.
"Then let us hope that your recollections of me are of a favourable
character," continued the flight-sub. "Now, tell me; what is your
name?"
"There is no immediate hurry for that," she protested. "Before I
reveal my identity suppose I remind you of some of your girl friends
at Alderdene--Ada Forrester, for instance."
Yes, Billy remembered Ada Forrester very well--a short, podgy kid,
he reflected, who by no possible chance could have developed into
the tall, graceful girl by his side.
"And Betty Deringhame," continued his inquisitor. "One of the noble
army of flappers. Rather a shallow-headed kid and a bit of a tomboy,
wasn't she?"
"A tomboy--yes," agreed the flight-sub, "but I cannot admit the
other. We used to be good pals, but that was three years ago. I was
in my Third Term at Dartmouth when her people left Alderdene."
"You taught her to signal in Morse, I think," pursued the girl. "You
used to exchange messages until that little pig, Pat o'Hara, the
vicar's son, learnt it too and told tales to her mother."
They walked in silence for some moments. Barcroft had almost
forgotten his surroundings. His thoughts had taken him back to those
far off, pre-war days in sunny Kent.
"Yes," he said at length in his deep manly voice. "It is absolutely
great to be with Betty Deringhame again."
"So you've guessed at last," said Betty. "It's a strange world,
isn't it?"
"And a mighty pleasant one, barring the Huns and others of that
crowd," added Billy. "Now, tell me, what are you doing here?"
"Walking with an old acquaintance upon a long road that leads to Two
Elms and Tarleigh."
"Obvious--we will not dispute the fact," rejoined the young officer.
"To put the question in more exact terms: where are you living, and
what brought you to this part of England?"
"I think I said I was living at Two Elms. To be more precise, at
Mill View. That doesn't sound particularly cheerful, does it? We
came here to live after we left Alderdene, shortly after war broke
out. I am now employed in a munitions works."
"Munitions works! Whatever are you doing that for?" asked Billy
surprised beyond measure. It seemed incredible that the slim,
light-hearted girl of his boyhood days should be toiling in this
manner.
"Because I had to do something," replied Betty simply. "We lost
almost everything. Besides, it was an opportunity to do something
practical for the war. People of all social grades do, you know."
"I'm sorry about your financial misfortune," said Barcroft
sympathetically.
"And so am I--very," added the girl frankly. "But it is unnecessary
to enter into details. This is my home."
They came to a standstill in front of a row of two-storeyed houses.
Owing to the darkness it was impossible for the flight-sub to form
an accurate idea of the pretensions of the place; but at any rate it
was a pitiful contrast to "The Old Rectory," the Deringhames' house
at Alderdene.
"The works were nearly hit by the bombs," continued Betty. "We had
just started the night-shifts, but the girls were sent off after the
raid was over. One of them was so frightened that I had to take her
home. That's why I was late."
"Fortunately for me," declared Billy earnestly.
"Yes, a stranger would have some difficulty to find his way on a
night like this," said Betty inconsequently. "You are on a straight
road now, until you come to a railway arch. Just beyond you'll
notice a line of overhead wires if you keep your eyes open. Just
beyond is a path on the left. That will take you past Ladybird
Fold."
"I'll call in the morning," said Barcroft.
"We--that is, mother and I, will be pleased to see you," replied the
girl. "Goodnight--Billy."
For the rest of the distance the flight-sub trod literally on air
until he reached the path that Betty had mentioned. Tripping over a
slab of stone he came to earth in a double sense.
"Dash it all!" he exclaimed as he picked himself up. "Has the
governor defended Lady bird Fold with entanglements and pitfalls? By
Jove, this is a night!"
Groping his way Billy ascended the steeply sloping cinder path
across the meadow. Another stile and a broad stretch of rugged
ground had to be negotiated before he saw a dark mass looming up in
front. By this time he was feeling particularly stiff, hungry and
cold. The keen air of the hillside made him regret the absence of
his airman's leather coat.
"Wonder if this is the show?" he mused as he surveyed the isolated
and apparently deserted building.
He stopped and listened intently. Voices were heard within, behind
the thickly-curtained window. He recognised one of the speakers.
"That's the governor, right enough," he exclaimed, all traces of
annoyance vanishing at the pleasurable discovery.
The outer door was unlocked. Billy threw it open and burst into the
well-lighted study.
"Cheer-o, pater!" he exclaimed. "Sorry I'm late. Some night, eh,
what?"