The Angel of the Revolution: A Tale of the Coming Terror

by George Chetwynd Griffith

  CHAPTER XXI.

  JUST IN TIME.

  As the train drew up in King's Cross station at twelve the next day,almost the first words that Tremayne heard were--

  "Special _Pall Mall_, sir! Appearance of the mysterious air-ship overPlymouth this morning! Great battle in Austria yesterday, defeat ofthe Austrians--awful slaughter with war-balloons! Special!"

  The boy was selling the papers as fast as he could hand them out tothe eager passengers. Tremayne secured one, shut the door of thesaloon again, and, turning to the middle page, read aloud to Natas--

  "We have just received a telegram from our Plymouth correspondent, tosay that soon after daybreak this morning torpedo-boat No. 157steamed into the Sound, bringing the news that she had sighted alarge five-masted air-ship about ten miles from the coast, when incompany with the cruiser _Ariadne_, whose commander had despatchedher with the news. Hardly had the report been received when theair-ship herself passed over Mount Edgcumbe and came towards thetown.

  "The news spread like wildfire, and in a few minutes the streets werefilled with crowds of people, who had thrown on a few clothes andrushed out to get a look at the strange visitant. At first it wasthought that an attack on the arsenal was intended by the mysteriousvessel, and the excitement had risen almost to the pitch of panic,when it was observed that she was flying a plain white flag, and thather intentions were apparently peaceful.

  "Panic then gave place to curiosity. The air-ship crossed the town atan elevation of about 3000 feet, described a complete circle round itin the space of a few minutes, and then suddenly shot up into the airand vanished to the south-westward at an inconceivable speed. Thevessel is described as being about a hundred feet long, and wasapparently armed with eight guns. Her hull was of white polishedmetal, probably aluminium, and shone like silver in the sunlight.

  "The wildest rumours are current as to the object of her visit, butof course no credence can be attached to any of them. The vessel isplainly of the same type as that which destroyed Kronstadt two monthsago, but larger and more powerful. The inference is that she is oneof a fleet in the hands of the Terrorists, and the profoundestuncertainty and anxiety prevail throughout naval and military circleseverywhere as to the use that they may make of these appalling meansof destruction should they take any share in the war."

  "Humph!" said Tremayne, as he finished reading. "Johnston's telegrammust have crossed us on the way, but I shall find one at the club.Well, we have no time to lose, for we ought to start for Plymouththis evening. Your men will take you straight to the Great WesternHotel, and I will hurry my business through as fast as possible, andmeet you there in time to catch the 6.30. At this rate we shall meetthe _Aurania_ soon after she leaves New York."

  Within the next six hours Tremayne transferred the whole of his vastproperty in a single instrument to his promised wife, thus making herthe richest woman in England; handed the precious deeds to herastonished father; obtained his promise to take his wife and daughterto Alanmere at the end of the London season, and to remain there withher until he returned to reclaim her and his estates together; andsaid good-bye to Lady Muriel herself in an interview which was a gooddeal longer than that which he had with his bewildered and somewhatscandalised lawyers, who had never before been forced to rush anytransaction through at such an indecent speed. Had Lord Alanmere notbeen the best client in the kingdom, they might have rebelled againstsuch an outrage on the law's time-honoured delays; but he was not aman to be trifled with, and so the work was done and an unbeatablerecord in legal despatch accomplished, albeit very unwillingly, bythe men of law.

  By midnight the _Lurline_, ostensibly bound for Queenstown, hadcleared the Sound, and, with the Eddystone Light on her port bow,headed away at full-speed to the westward. She was about the fastestyacht afloat, and at a pinch could be driven a good twenty-sevenmiles an hour through the water. As both Natas and Tremayne wereanxious to join the air-ship as soon as possible, every ounce ofsteam that her boilers would stand was put on, and she slipped alongin splendid style through the long, dark seas that came rollingsmoothly up Channel from the westward.

  In an hour and a half after passing the Eddystone she sighted theLizard Light, and by the time she had brought it well abeam the firstinterruption of her voyage occurred. A huge, dark mass loomedsuddenly up out of the darkness of the moonless night, then ablinding, dazzling ray of light shot across the water from thesearchlight of a battleship that was patrolling the coast, attendedby a couple of cruisers and four torpedo-boats. One of these lastcame flying towards the yacht down the white path of the beam oflight, and Tremayne, seeing that he would have to give an account ofhimself, stopped his engines and waited for the torpedo-boat to comewithin hail.

  "Steamer ahoy! Who are you? and where are you going to at thatspeed?"

  "This is the _Lurline_, the Earl of Alanmere's yacht, from Plymouthto Queenstown. We're only going at our usual speed."

  "Oh, if it's the _Lurline_, you needn't say that," answered theofficer who had hailed from the torpedo-boat, with a laugh. "Is LordAlanmere on board?"

  "Yes, here I am," said Tremayne, replying instead of hissailing-master. "Is that you, Selwyn? I thought I recognised yourvoice."

  "Yes, it's I, or rather all that's left of me after two months inthis buck-jumping little brute of a craft. She bobs twice in the samehole every time, and if it's a fairly deep hole she just dives rightthrough and out on the other side; and there are such a lot ofFrenchmen about that we get no rest day or night on this patrollingbusiness."

  "Very sorry for you, old man; but if you will seek glory in atorpedo-boat, I don't see that you can expect anything else. Will youcome on board and have a drink?"

  "No, thanks. Very sorry, but I can't stop. By the way, have you heardof that air-ship that was over this way this morning? I wonder whatthe deuce it really is, and what it's up to?"

  "I've heard of it; it was in the London papers this morning. Have youseen any more of it?"

  "Oh yes; the thing was cruising about in mid-air all this morning,taking stock of us and the Frenchmen too, I suppose. She vanishedduring the afternoon. Where to, I don't know. It's awfullyhumiliating, you know, to be obliged to crawl about here on thewater, at twenty-five knots at the utmost, while that fellow isflying a hundred miles an hour or so through the clouds withoutturning a hair, or I ought to say without as much as a puff of smoke.He seems to move of his own mere volition. I wonder what on earth heis."

  "Not much on earth apparently, but something very considerable in theair, where I hope he'll stop out of sight until I get to Queenstown;and as I want to get there pretty early in the morning, perhapsyou'll excuse me saying good-night and getting along, if you won'tcome on board."

  "No, very sorry I can't. Good-night, and keep well in to the coasttill you have to cross to Ireland. Good-bye?"

  "Good-bye!" shouted Tremayne in reply, as the torpedo-boat swunground and headed back to the battleship, and he gave the order to goahead again at full-speed.

  In another hour they were off the Land's End, and from there theyheaded out due south-west into the Atlantic. They had hardly madeanother hundred miles before it began to grow light, and then itbecame necessary to keep a bright look-out for the air-ship, foraccording to what they had heard from the commander of thetorpedo-boat she might be sighted at any moment as soon as it waslight enough to see her.

  Another hour passed, but there was still no sign of the air-ship.This of course was to be expected, for they had still anotherseventy-five miles or so to go before the rendezvous was reached.

  "Steamer to the south'ard!" sang out the man on the forecastle, justas Tremayne came on deck after an attempt at a brief nap. He pickedup his glass, and took a good look at the thin cloud of smoke away onthe southern horizon.

  From what he could see it was a large steamer, and was coming up veryfast, almost at right angles to the course of the _Lurline_. Fifteenminutes later he was able to see that the stranger was a warship, andthat she was heading for Queenstown. Sh
e was therefore either aBritish ship attached to the Irish Squadron, or else she was an enemywith designs on the liners bound for Liverpool.

  In either case it was most undesirable that the yacht should beoverhauled again. Any mishap to her, even a lengthy delay, might havethe most serious consequences. A single unlucky shell exploding inher engine-room would disable her, and perhaps change the futurehistory of the world.

  Tremayne therefore altered her course a little more to the northward,thus increasing the distance between her and the stranger, and at thesame time ordered the engineer to keep up the utmost head of steam,and get the last possible yard out of her.

  The alteration in her course appeared to be instantly detected by thewarship, for she at once swerved off more to the westward, andbrought herself dead astern of the _Lurline_. She was now near enoughfor Tremayne to see that she was a large cruiser, and attended by abrace of torpedo-boats, which were running along one under each ofher quarters, like a couple of dogs following a hunter.

  There was now no doubt but that, whatever her nationality, she wasbent on overhauling the yacht, if possible, and the dense volumes ofsmoke that were pouring out of her funnels told Tremayne that she wasstoking up vigorously for the chase.

  By this time she was about seven miles away, and the _Lurline_, hertwin screws beating the water at their utmost speed, and every platein her trembling under the vibration of her engines, rushed throughthe water faster than she had ever done since the day she waslaunched. As far as could be seen, she was holding her own well inwhat had now become a dead-on stern chase.

  Still the stranger showed no flag, and though Tremayne could hardlybelieve that a hostile cruiser and a couple of torpedo-boats wouldventure so near to the ground occupied by the British battle-ships,the fact that she showed no colours looked at the best suspicious.Determined to settle the question, if possible, one way or the other,he ran up the ensign of the Royal Yacht Squadron.

  This brought no reply from the cruiser, but a column of bluish-whitesmoke shot up a moment later from the funnels of one of thetorpedo-boats, telling that she had put on the forced draught, and,like a greyhound slipped from the leash, she began to draw away fromthe big ship, plunging through the long rollers, and half-buryingherself in the foam that she threw up from her bows.

  Tremayne knew that there were some of these viperish little craft inthe French navy that could be driven thirty miles an hour through thewater, and if this was one of them, capture was only a matter oftime, unless the air-ship sighted them and came to the rescue.

  Happily, although there was a considerable swell on, the water wassmooth and free from short waves, and this was to the advantage ofthe _Lurline_; for she went along "as dry as a bone," while thetorpedo-boat, lying much lower in the water, rammed her nose intoevery roller, and so lost a certain amount of way. The yacht wasmaking a good twenty-eight miles an hour under the heroic efforts ofthe engineers; and at this rate it would be nearly two hours beforeshe was overhauled, provided that the torpedo-boat was not able touse the gun that she carried forward of her funnels with anydangerous effect.

  There could now be no doubt as to the hostility of the pursuers. Hadthey been British, they would have answered the flag flying at thepeak of the yacht.

  "Steamer coming down from the nor'ard, sir!" suddenly sang out a manwhom Tremayne had just stationed in the fore cross-trees to look outfor the air-ship that was now so anxiously expected.

  A dense volume of smoke was seen rising in the direction indicated,and a few minutes later a second big steamer came into view, bearingdown directly on the yacht, and so approaching the torpedo-boatalmost stem on. There was no doubt about her nationality. A glancethrough the glass showed Tremayne the white ensign floating above thehorizontal stream of smoke that stretched behind her. She was aBritish cruiser, no doubt a scout of the Irish Squadron, and hadsighted the smoke of the yacht and her pursuers, and had come toinvestigate.

  Tremayne breathed more freely now, for he knew that his flag wouldprocure the assistance of the new-comer in case it was wanted, asindeed it very soon was.

  Hardly had the British cruiser come well in sight than a puff ofsmoke rose from the deck of the other warship, and a shell camewhistling through the air, and burst within a hundred yards of the_Lurline_. Twenty-four hours ago Tremayne had been one of the richestmen in England, and just now he would have willingly given all thathe had possessed to be twenty-five miles further to thesouth-westward than he was.

  Another shell from the Frenchman passed clear over the _Lurline_, andplunged into the water and burst, throwing a cloud of spray high intothe air. Then came one from the torpedo-boat, but she was still toofar off for her light gun to do any damage, and the projectile fellspent into the sea nearly five hundred yards short.

  Immediately after this came a third shell from the French cruiser,and this, by an unlucky chance, struck the forecastle of the yacht,burst, and tore away several feet of the bulwarks, and, worse thanall, killed four of her crew instantly.

  "First blood!" said Tremayne to himself through his clenched teeth."That shall be an unlucky shot for you, my friend, if we reach theair-ship before you sink us."

  Meanwhile the two cruisers, each approaching the other at a speed ofmore than twenty miles an hour, had got within shot. A puff of smokespurted out from the side of the latest comer. The well-aimedprojectile passed fifty yards astern of the _Lurline_, and struck theadvancing torpedo-boat square on the bow.

  The next instant it was plainly apparent that there was nothing moreto be feared from her. The solid shot had passed clean through hertwo sides. Her nose went down and her stern came up. Then bang wentanother gun from the British cruiser. This time the messenger ofdeath was a shell. It struck the inclined deck amidships, there was aflash of flame, a cloud of steam rose up from her bursting boilers,and then she broke in two and vanished beneath the smooth-rollingwaves.

  Two minutes later the duel began in deadly earnest. The tricolor ranup to the masthead of the French cruiser, and jets of mingled smokeand flame spurted one after the other from her sides, and shellsbegan bursting in quick succession round the rapidly-advancingEnglishman. Evidently the Frenchman, with his remaining torpedo-boat,thought himself a good match for the British cruiser, for he showedno disposition to shirk the combat, despite the fact that he was sonear to the cruising ground of a powerful squadron.

  As the two cruisers approached each other, the fire from their heavyguns was supplemented by that of their light quick-firing armament,until each of them became a floating volcano, vomiting continuousjets of smoke and flame, and hurling showers of shot and shell acrossthe rapidly-lessening space between them.

  The din of the hideous concert became little short of appalling, evento the most hardened nerves. The continuous deep booming of the heavyguns, as they belched forth their three-hundred-pound projectiles,mingled with the sharp ringing reports of the thirty and forty poundquick-firers, and the horrible grinding rattle of the machine guns inthe tops that sounded clearly above all, and every few seconds camethe scream and the bang of bursting shells, and the dull, crashingsound of rending and breaking steel, as the terrible missiles ofdeath and destruction found their destined mark.

  Happily the _Lurline_ was out of the line of fire, or she would havebeen torn to fragments and sent to the bottom in a few seconds. Shecontinued on her course at her utmost speed, and the French cruiserwas, of course, too busy to pay any further attention to her. Not sothe remaining torpedo-boat, however, which, leaving the two big shipsto fight out their duel for the present, was pursuing the yacht atthe utmost speed of her forced draught.

  Capture or destruction soon only became a matter of a few minutes.Tremayne, determined to hold on till he was sunk or sighted theair-ship, kept his flag flying and his engines working to the lastounce that the quivering boilers would stand, and the Frenchman,seeing that he was determined to escape if he could, opened fire onhim with his twenty-pounder.

  Owing to the high speed of the two vessels, and the
rolling of thetorpedo-boat, not much execution was done at first; but, as thedistance diminished, shell after shell crashed through the bulwarksof the _Lurline_, ripping them longitudinally, and tearing up thedeck-planks with their jagged fragments. The wheel-house and thefunnel escaped by a miracle, and the yacht being end on to herpursuer, the engines and boilers were comparatively safe.

  One boat had also escaped, and that was hanging ready to be loweredat a moment's notice.

  At last a shell struck the funnel, burst, and shattered it tofragments. Almost at the same moment the man in the fore-cross-trees,who had stuck to his post in defiance of the cannonade, sang out witha triumphant shout--

  "The air-ship! The air-ship!"

  Hardly had the words left his lips when a shell from the torpedo-boatstruck the _Lurline_ under the quarter, and ripped one of her platesout like a sheet of paper. The next instant the engineer rushed up ondeck, crying--

  "The bottom's out of her! She'll go down in five minutes!"

  Tremayne, who was the only man on deck save the look-out, ran out ofthe wheel-house, dived into the cabin, and a moment later reappearedwith Natas in his arms, and followed by his two attendants. Then,without the loss of a second, but in perfect order, the quarter-boatwas manned and lowered, and pulled clear of the ill-fated _Lurline_just as she pitched backwards into the sea and went down with a run,stern foremost.

  The air-ship, coming up at a tremendous speed, swooped suddenly downfrom a height of two thousand feet, and slowed up within a thousandyards of the torpedo-boat. A projectile rushed through the air andlanded on the deck of the Frenchman. There was a flash of greenishflame, a cloud of mingled smoke and steam, and when this had driftedaway there was not a vestige of the torpedo-boat to be seen. Then afew fragments of iron splashed into the water here and there, andthat was all that betokened her fate.