The yacht topped the crest.  On the moor to the left a vast assemblage of huts and tents broke upon the view.  By the roadside was parked a row of motor lorries.  Here and there men were moving about.  They stared and shouted to one another at the sight of the strange vehicle sailing towards them, or rather running now merrily on the last gill of petrol. Templeton narrowly escaped colliding with the nearest lorry, then slowed down and enquired the way to the commandant’s office.