it dawned upon him that he had been in an awful smash. The
wrecked sea-plane had not hitherto led the train of his thoughts to the
subject of the accident. Now he realized his position.

"Where's my companion?" he asked, "Is he knocked out?"

"Do not yourself fret," said a voice that sounded far away. "He is
hurt, but badly not at all. We him have carried away. I am a doctor.
You quiet must be, and zen recovery rapide will be."

The doctor--a Dutch army surgeon--ran his hands lightly over the lad's
limbs.

"Goot!" he ejaculated. "Nodings broken is."

He gave directions to the men in attendance. A stretcher was laid on
the ground beside the lad. Two men lifted him gently upon it. Even as
they did so, Ross gave a low groan and passed into merciful oblivion.

CHAPTER XXVII

Not on Parole

"Ver' goot. I understan' you no give parole?"

"No, sir," replied the Flight-Sub firmly.

"An' you, mynheer?"

"I am in the same boat, sir," replied Ross.

The camp-commandant smiled--a hearty smile, bordering on a laugh.

"Goot, I understan' also," he reiterated. Then, shaking a podgy little
finger, he added: "Same boat, ah? English idiomatic expression? Ver'
well, it is so; but if you make escape, do not let me you catch. Zat
is all."

A week had elapsed since the involuntary descent of the sea-plane.
Both officers were making rapid progress towards recovery, for, in
spite of the violence of the impact, neither of them had received
anything worse than contusions and bruises.

After three days in hospital at Utrecht, the interned aviators were
transferred to a small concentration camp at the village of Koedijk, a
short distance from Alkmaar. A few miles to the westward, and beyond
an expanse of sand dunes, was the North Sea. The temptation to refuse
to give their parole was not to be wondered at, with the call of the
sea so near at hand. It was, indeed, rather remarkable that the two
officers had not been sent to the large internment camp at Groningen,
where so many of the ill-fated Naval Brigade languished, if not in
captivity, in a state of enforced and tedious detention.

"We'll have to be doubly careful now," remarked the Flight-Sub. "The
mere fact that we have declined to give our parole will put the
commandant on his guard. Our best plan will be to mark time for a bit."

"Marking time is always an unsatisfactory business," protested the
energetic Ross. "Nothing rusts a fellow like ina