Still steering south-east I could see, away on my left in the far distance, a number of scattered lights in a long line, denoting where Hastings and St. Leonards lay. Beyond those lights, away upon the dark sea, showed the long beam of a ship's searchlight moving slowly in an arc in the Channel.
Roseye, seated beside me, touched my arm and pointed to it. Again I nodded in response.
By the map I saw we were now approaching that high ridge which stretches from Heathfield across to Burwash, the ridge which overlooks Hailsham and the Pevensey Levels. My altimeter then showed 2,800 feet and all went well for ten minutes, or so, until just as I approached the railway line near Heathfield, we became suddenly blinded by the white beam of a searchlight from below.
Roseye put up both hands to her eyes, but I bent my head and kept on my course.
I saw her put out her hand as though to turn our own searchlight downwards and gripped her wrist, preventing her.
I knew that our approach had been heard by the anti-aircraft listening-post on Brightling Beacon, and that, having picked us up, they would see the tri-coloured rings beneath my planes. Truly it was fortunate that I had had them painted there, for I knew that upon the Beacon they had a very useful anti-aircraft gun.
Beneath my breath, however, I cursed the men with that searchlight for, following us, it blinded us. My first impulse was to turn away from it but, next instant, I realized that to do so might arouse suspicion below and they might open fire. Therefore I
