CHAPTER IV.

THE MYSTERIOUS AIRSHIP.

ON his homeward voyage Basil Dacres had plenty of opportunities for

pondering over his future plans. Having once taken the plunge he was

not a fellow to repine. His thoughts were of the future and not of

the past.

"In any case," he thought, "I'll be as independent as I can. I don't

want to come to loggerheads with the pater, but goodness only knows

how he'll take it. If I can have a quiet chat with him before he

learns the official version of the row, I may be able to explain

matters with a certain degree of satisfaction. After that I'll go

abroad, and get an appointment under one of the South American

governments. There will be plenty of scope in that direction."

At Suez the liner received a batch of English mails, and, as usual,

there was a great demand for newspapers to supplement the meagre

details of the world's doings as received by wireless.

Dacres hurriedly scanned the columns of four successive weeks of the

journal, but to his relief he saw no mention of his resignation being

reported. That gave him hopes of being able to be first in the field

as far as his parent was concerned.

Having assured himself on this point he proceeded systematically to

wade through the news with the zest that only those who have been cut

off from home ties know how to appreciate.

Presently his eye caught sight of a heading, "The mysterious airship

again."

"H'm, this sounds interesting," he soliloquized, for anything in

connexion with aviation appealed to him. When his services for the

Naval Flying Wing were declined the refusal hit him far harder than

his being asked to withdraw from his Majesty's Service.

"They say 'again,' I notice. I wonder for how long this airship has

been claiming the attention of the great British public? It's a pity

I've been unable to see the first account of its appearance. Seems

like starting a book at the sixth chapter."

Settling himself in a comfortable deck-chair Dacres was soon lost to

his surroundings in the account of the remarkable exploits of an

airship of entirely new design. It was seen within a few hours at

places as far apart as Newcastle and Plymouth, and Holyhead and

Canterbury. Although the eye-witnesses' accounts varied considerably

in detail the general description was sufficiently unanimous to prove

conclusively that the airship was not a creation of an excited

imagination.

It was agreed that the airship was of immense length and of

exceptional speed. She invariably flew at a great altitude. Her

appearance resembled that of a lead pencil pointed at one end, but

the observers were unable to state whether there were planes, cars,

and other appendages. There was none of that gently see-sawing motion

of the British military and naval dirigibles: she flew as steadily as

a seaplane on a calm day, and created a far greater impression of

speed.

Near Newcastle she was spotted by a pair of belated motorists who

were travelling over a road that follows the old Roman wall between

Chollerford and Heddon. It was a moonlight night, although the sky

was frequently obscured by drifting clouds. While brought up to make

good a slight defect one of the motorists noticed a dark object

overhead and called his companion's attention to it. Both

simultaneously expressed their opinion that it was an airship, while

one of the men found by extending his arm that the extremities of the

craft coincided with the length between his outstretched little

finger and thumb, while its breadth was roughly half the thickness of

the nail joint of the same finger. Taking the breadth to be forty

feet it was reasonable to suppose that the length of the airship was

nearly thirty times that dimension, or one thousand two hundred feet.

The airship was then travelling rapidly in a westerly direction, the

time being 1.30 a.m.

So impressed were the travellers by this unusual sight that they

proceeded to the offices of the "Newcastle Daily Record" and stated

the facts to the sub-editor who happened to be on night duty.

Just before four on the same morning the coastguard on watch at Yealm

Head, near Plymouth, "spotted" the airship still flying at a great

height, but in an easterly direction. He followed it through his

telescope until it was lost to sight, but owing to the airship being

against the growing dawn he was unable to give any details as to its

construction. His description, however, tallied with that of the

Newcastle motorists, whose report was published in a special edition

of the principal London papers.

Since Newcastle and Plymouth are roughly 360 miles apart the speed of

the airship could not be less than 150 miles per hour, and that not

taking into consideration the fact that on each occasion the craft

was shaping a course at right angles to the direct line between these

two places.

Two days later came an even more startling report, this time from

Canterbury.

It appears that a shepherd employed at Wether Farm, Petham--a small

village five miles from the Kentish cathedral city--had occasion to

visit a fold at some distance from the farm-buildings. This was at

three o'clock, an hour before sunrise, but it was just light enough

to distinguish surrounding objects.

Suddenly he saw a huge object falling through the air. All he could

liken it to was a haystack. It struck the ground quite gently and

about two hundred yards from the place where he stood. At first he

was afraid to move, until, thinking it might be a balloon that had

met with an accident, he ran towards the spot. As he did so he heard

voices, evidently discussing the situation; but before he could get

close to the "haystack," the object gave a bound and shot skywards.

He stood stock still watching the balloon growing smaller and smaller

till it approached an object that had hitherto escaped his notice--an

airship resembling a "wooden meat-skewer," according to his

description. Of what happened to the smaller balloon he had no idea,

but as he watched he saw the airship soar still higher till lost to

sight.

Curiosity prompted him to examine the spot where the balloon had

alighted. The marks on the dew-sodden grass gave him an opportunity

of measuring its base, which was twelve paces square, or, roughly,

thirty feet. There were footprints showing that two men had alighted,

but had not moved far from the spot. Although he made a careful

search he found that nothing had been left behind that might give a

clue to the occupants of the balloon.

This story the shepherd told to his master, who, knowing that a

mysterious aircraft had been sighted at Newcastle and Plymouth, took

the first opportunity of reporting the matter to the military

authorities at Canterbury. Asked if he could vouch for his

informant's trustworthiness the farmer replied that the man had been

in his employment for thirty years, and as far as shepherds went, was

intelligent, honest, and not given to immoderate drinking.

When this was reported in the Press the interest in the mysterious

airship redoubled. Various theories were advanced as to the presence

of the balloon, or airship dinghy as a facetious correspondent

suggested. Crediting the airship with a mean speed of 150 miles per

hour, it was still doubted whether it would be possible to tow a

balloon with it, while, on the other hand, it was equally impossible

to deflate and stow the gas-bag within the airship during the short

interval that had elapsed according to the shepherd's statement.

Then, of course, there was the alarmist section; People who wrote

demanding that the Royal Flying Corps should be brought to book for

neglecting their duty. It was pointed out that in the course of her

nocturnal voyages the airship had passed the prohibited areas without

being challenged by any of the air patrols. It seemed incredible that

the mysterious giant of the clouds could be here, there, everywhere,

from the north of England to the south, without being seen except by

chance by a few individuals. Where, also, could a huge aircraft,

measuring at least a thousand feet over-all, be housed in complete

secrecy?

Then from the wilds of North Wales came an astounding report. This

time the narrator was a signalman on the North Western Railway, who

witnessed a remarkable sight from his box near Llanfaelog in the Isle

of Anglesey. It was at midnight. The moon had just risen in a

cloudless sky, and there was hardly any wind.

The man had just cleared a goods train over his section and was about

to set the signals, when he was aware of a huge object rushing with a

rapidity greater by far than that of the most powerful express train.

It passed almost overhead and, according to his estimate, at about a

hundred feet from the ground. After it passed the leaves of the trees

close to the signal box were violently agitated and a sudden blast of

air swept the papers off his desk, but in spite of the commotion in

the air there was hardly any sound from the mysterious airship, save

a subdued buzzing.

Recovering his presence of mind the signalman promptly telegraphed

the news along the line, but the terrific rush of this gigantic

aircraft was unnoticed by any of the other railway employés on duty.

At six o'clock, however, two fishermen put into Dulas Bay, on the

north coast of Anglesey, and reported that at dawn they had seen a

large airship break in two at a distance of about two miles N. N. of

where they were fishing. Both men were unshaken in this statement,

that a complete severance had taken place, and that both portions,

instead of falling into the sea, headed off at great speed in a

westerly direction.

It was pointed out to the Government, in a strongly-worded leader in

"The Times," that something must be radically wrong with our system

of policing the air, since it was conclusively proved that an unknown

aircraft, possessing superior power of propulsion and radius of

action to any yet known, had cruised over the length and breadth of

England and Wales--and perhaps further afield--without being

officially reported.

Although there were no evidences that the mysterious aircraft was

flying under the auspices of a foreign power, it was quite possible

that she hailed from a country other than our own. If not, and she

was built and controlled by a British subject, the Government ought

to take steps to secure a right to build others of her pattern;

otherwise the bare margin of safety set up by the Aerial Defence

Committee was in danger.

Awaking out of its customary lethargy the British Government accepted

the advice of "The Times," and steps were taken to locate the base

from which the airship operated, and also, if possible, to trace her

complete course during one of her nocturnal flights.

Searchlights were temporarily installed on almost every important

hill-top from Berwick to Land's End, and from the South Foreland to

Holyhead; airmen, both military and civilian, were encouraged to make

night flights with the idea of being able to sight and perhaps keep

in touch with the giant dirigible; while destroyers and seaplanes

patrolled the coast, ready on the first intimation by wireless to

concentrate at any rendezvous on the line of flight that the

sought-for airship was likely to adopt.

"H'm!" ejaculated Dacres, as he carefully folded the latest newspaper

that it was possible to obtain. "This looks lively. Things are

getting exciting in the Old Country. Perhaps, after all, I may get a

chance of a berth with one of the private flying schools, even if I

can't manage to join the Flying Corps. I'll have a shot at it, by

Jove!"

The Dreadnought of the Air · 第 4 / 39 章