With a final wave of his hand, Wertheimer grasped the starting-lever.
Its brool deepening, the Parrott stirred, shot forward abruptly. In two seconds it was fifty yards distant, its silhouette already blurred, its wheels lifting from the rim of the hollow.
Then lightly it leaped, soared, parted the mists, vanished. …
For some time Lanyard and Lucy Shannon remained motionless, clinging together, hand-in-hand, listening to the drone that presently dwindled to a mere thread of sound and died out altogether in the obscurity above them.
Then, turning, they faced each other, smiling a trace uncertainly, a smile that said: "So all that is finished! … Or, perhaps, we dreamed it!" …
Suddenly, with a low cry, the girl gave herself to Lanyard's arms; and as this happened the mists parted and bright sunlight flooded the hollow in the Downs.
THE END
