A shot was fired at me, and again it came from a French plane.

That was all I could see.

We were in a bank of mist at the time, and I just caught a glimpse of the plane itself.

The man was a mere shapeless figure to me.

I had no time to fight him, because I was due here with another message which made vengeance upon him at that time a matter of little moment." He flecked the red drops off his sleeve, and added: "It was but a scratch.