The World Peril of 1910
Page 24
CHAPTER XXIII
THE OTHER CAMPAIGN BEGINS
It was on the day following the destruction of Dover that the news ofthe actual landing of the French and German forces had really takenplace at the points selected by Castellan reached Whernside. The littlehouse party were at lunch, and the latest papers had just come over fromSettle. Naturally what they contained formed the sole topic ofconversation.
"Really, Arnold, I think even you must confess that things are a greatdeal more serious than anyone could have imagined a few days ago. Thevery idea--an invasion accomplished in forty-eight hours--Portsmouth,Dover, Sheerness and Tilbury destroyed, and French and German andRussian soldiers actually in arms on English soil. The thing would bepreposterous if it were not true!
"And what are we to do now, I should like to know? The Fleet doesn'texist--we have no army in the Continental sense of the word, which ofcourse is the real military sense, thanks to a lot of politicianscalling themselves statesmen who have been squabbling about what an armyought to be for the last ten years.
"You will be able to put a million trained and half-trained--mostlyhalf-trained--men into the field, to face millions of highly-trainedFrench, German, Russian and Austrian troops, led by officers who havetaken their profession seriously, and not by gentlemen who have goneinto the army because it was a nice sort of playground, where you couldhave lots of fun, and a little amateur fighting now and then. I wonderwhat they will do now against the men who have made war a scienceinstead of sport!
"I should like to know what the good people who have made such a fussabout the 'tyranny of Conscription' will say now, when they find that wehaven't trained men enough to defend our homes. Just as if militaryservice was not the first duty a man owes to his country and to hishome. A man has no right to a country nor a home if he isn't able todefend them. Kipling was perfectly right when he said:
'What is your boasting worth If you grudge a year of service to the lordliest life on earth?'"
This little lecture was delivered with trembling lips, flushed cheeksand flashing eyes by Lady Margaret Holker, Lord Westerham's sister, whohad joined the party that morning to help her brother in his recruiting.
She was an almost perfect type of the modern highly-bred Englishwoman,who knows how to be entirely modern without being vulgarly "up-to-date."She was a strong contrast to her brother, in that she was a brightbrunette--not beautiful, perhaps not even pretty, but for all thatdistinctly good-looking. Her hair and eyebrows were black, her eyes adeep pansy-blue. A clear complexion, usually pale but decidedly flushednow, and, for the rest, somewhat irregular features which might havebeen almost plain, but for that indefinable expression of combinedgentleness and strength which only the careful selection of long descentcan give.
As for her figure, it was as perfect as absolute health and abundantexercise could make it. She could ride, shoot, throw a fly and steer ayacht better than most women and many men of her class; but for all thatshe could grill steaks and boil potatoes with as much distinction as shecould play the piano and violin, and sing in three or four languages.
She also had a grip, not on politics, for which she had a wholesomecontempt, but on the affairs of the nations--the things which reallymattered. And yet withal she was just an entirely healthy youngEnglishwoman, who was quite as much at home in the midst of a goodswinging waltz as she was in an argument on high affairs of State.
"My dear Madge," said her brother, who had been reading the reports inthe second morning edition of the _Times_ aloud, "I am afraid that,after all, you are right. But then, you must not forget that a new enemyhas come into the field. I hardly like to say so in Miss Castellan'spresence, but it is perfectly clear that, considering what the Fleetdid, there would have been no invasion if it had not been for thosediabolical contrivances that John Castellan took over to the GermanEmperor."
"You needn't have any hesitation in saying what you like about himbefore me, Lord Westerham," said Norah, flushing. "It's no brother he isof mine now, as I told him the day he went aboard the German yacht atClifden. I'd see him shot to-morrow without a wink of my eyes. The manwho does what he has done has no right to the respect of any man nor thelove of any woman--no, not even if the woman is his sister. Think of allthe good, loyal Irishmen, soldiers and sailors, that he has murdered bythis time. No, I have no brother called John Castellan."
"But you have another called Denis," said Auriole, "and I think you maybe well content with him!"
"Ah, Denis!" said Norah, flushing again, but for a different reason,"Denis is a good and loyal man; yes, I am proud of him--God bless him!"
"And I should reckon that skipper of his, Captain Erskine, must be apretty smart sort of man," said Mr Parmenter, who so far had hardlyjoined in the conversation, and who had seemed curiously indifferent tothe terrible exploits of the _Flying Fishes_ and all that had followedthem. "That craft of his seems to be just about as business-like asanything that ever got into the water or under it. I wonder what he isdoing with the Russian and German ships in the Thames now. I guess hewon't let many of them get back out of there. Quite a young man, too,according to the accounts."
"Oh, yes," said Lady Margaret, "he isn't twenty-nine yet. I know himslightly. He is a son of Admiral Erskine, who commanded the ChinaSquadron about eight years ago, and died of fever after a pirate hunt,and he is the nephew of dear old Lady Caroline Anstey, my other motheras I call her. He is really a splendid fellow, and some people say asgood-looking as he is clever; although, of course, there was a desperatelot of jealousy when he was promoted Captain straight away fromLieutenant-Commander of a Fishery cruiser, but I should like to know howmany of the wiseacres of Whitehall could have designed that _Ithuriel_of his."
"It's a pity she can't fly, though, like those others," said MrParmenter, with a curious note in his voice which no one at the tablebut Lennard understood. "She's a holy terror in the water, but the otherfellow's got all the call on land. If they get a dozen or so of theseaerial submarines as you might call them, in front of the invadingforces, I can't see what's going to stop a march on London, and rightround it. Your men are just as brave as any on earth, and a bit morethan some, if their officers are a bit more gentlemen and sportsmen thansoldiers; but no man can fight a thing he can't hit back at, and so Ireckon the next thing we shall hear of will be the siege of London. Whatdo you think, Lennard?"
Lennard, who had hardly spoken a word during the meal, looked up, andsaid in a voice which Lady Madge thought curiously unsympathetic:
"I shouldn't think it would take more than a fortnight at the outside,even leaving these airships out of the question. We haven't threehundred thousand men of all sorts to put into the field, who know oneend of a gun from another, or who can sit a horse; and now that thesea's clear the enemy can land two or three millions in a fortnight."
"All our merchant shipping will be absolutely at their mercy, and theywill simply have to take them over to France and Germany and load themup with men and horses, and bring them over as if they were coming to apicnic. But, of course, with the airships to help them the thing's aforegone conclusion, and to a great extent it is our own fault. Ithoroughly agree with what Lady Margaret says about conscription. If wehad had it only five years ago, we should now have three million men,instead of three hundred thousand, trained and ready to take the field.Though, after all--"
"After all--what?" said Lady Margaret, looking sharply round at him.
"Oh, nothing of any importance," he said. "At least, not just atpresent. I daresay Lord Westerham will be able to explain what I mighthave said better than I could. There's not time for it just now, I'vegot to get a train to Bolton in an hour's time."
"And I'll have to be in Glasgow to-night," said Mr Parmenter, rising. "Ihope you won't think it very inhospitable of us, Lady Margaret: butbusiness is business, you know, and more so than usual in times likethese.
"Now, I had better say good-bye. I have a few things to see to before MrLennard and I go down to Settle, but
I've no doubt Auriole will findsome way of entertaining you till you want to start for York."
At half-past two the motor was at the door to take Mr Parmenter andLennard to Settle. That evening, in Glasgow, Mr Parmenter bought the_Minnehaha_, a steel turbine yacht of two thousand tons and twenty-fiveknots speed, from Mr Hendray Chinnock, a brother millionaire, who hadlaid her up in the Clyde in consequence of the war the day before. Here-engaged her officers and crew at double wages to cover war risks, andstarted for New York within an hour of the completion of the purchase.
Lennard took the express to Bolton, with letters and a deed of gift fromLord Westerham, which gave him absolute ownership of the cannel minewith the twelve-hundred-foot vertical shaft at Farnworth.
That afternoon and evening Lady Margaret was more than entertained, forduring the afternoon she learned the story of the approaching cataclysm,in comparison with which the war was of no more importance than a merestreet riot; and that night Auriole, who had learned to work the greatreflector almost as well as Lennard himself, showed her theever-growing, ever-brightening shape of the Celestial Invader.