The Great Airship
"Hold tight all! Don't move or you will make the platform sway, and then
it will be a job to keep your footing. Ah--up we go!"
The cheery individual, who had dropped so suddenly as if from the sky,
bringing help to Dicky and his crew, called out loudly, once he had
contrived with their help to cut asunder the lashings that bound the
unconscious figure of the man they had come to rescue, and had lifted
him aboard the platform which had borne him from aloft. He signalled at
once, and then, as we have recorded, the platform shot upward at
tremendous speed, while the brilliant light shedding its beams upon them
went out of a sudden.
"I'd as soon be aloft in a gale on a dirty dark night, so I would," the
bulky Hurst began to grumble, while he clutched at the smooth floor of
the platform, and finding no hold there, sought for the edge and gripped
it. For all had sunk upon their knees, standing being almost out of the
question, and in any case hardly a position to attract any of the
company. "There ain't no sayin' where this here platform ends and where
it begins, and if you was to fall where'd you go to!"
"Where? Davy Jones's locker!" laughed Hawkins, though his hoarse tones
told how the situation impressed him. "Right slick down to Davy Jones.
Just you quit grumblin', my lad, and get a hold on with your eyebrows."
"Silence, men!" came sharply from Dicky. The precarious position in
which he found himself, his unusual surroundings, and the uncertainty of
the future making him quite irritable. "Now, sir, will you kindly
explain where you are taking us. And first, let me thank you for turning
up just in the nick of time."
"Not at all! Not at all! Delighted to be able to lend a helping hand to
some of my own service."
"Navy, sir?" asked Dicky, though he felt sure of that fact from the very
first.
"What else, my lad? Commander Jackson, at present engaged in
experimental work."
"Aeronautics?" ventured Dicky.
"Perhaps; you'll see. Hold tight! Now that the light has been switched
off it makes this platform none too safe. That is, for anyone not a
sailor. Ah! They're slowing down the motor. We'll be aboard in a jiffy."
Their upward flight had indeed taken but a matter of a minute, and
already they were hundreds of feet above the sea. Not that they could
tell that for certain. But every one of the rescued crew had the
uncomfortable feeling that they were poised high in the air, with but
this flimsy platform between them and destruction. However, a few
seconds later they became aware of a dull, droning noise, hitherto
inaudible, while the speed of their strange lift had slowed
considerably.
"Keep your hands off the edge of the platform!" shouted their rescuer.
"Ah! Here we are! Come aboard, Mr. Provost."
The change from darkness to brilliant light was positively stupefying,
even more than it had been in the reverse direction. For now, as Dicky
and his crew crouched on the platform, fearful of moving to right or
left lest they should lose their footing, there was a gentle bump, a
flooring above their heads lifted, and in an instant they found
themselves in a wide gallery blazing with light and occupied by three
individuals. Another second and the platform came to a rest on a level
with the flooring of this gallery, while a well-groomed, white-headed
man stepped forward to greet them.
"Welcome!" he cried. "Well done, Commander Jackson! I was in a fever
till I saw you had them all on board. Gentlemen, allow me to welcome you
on your arrival."
It was Andrew Provost, well set up, thin and spare, and exceedingly well
dressed. More than that it was Andrew Provost with a new light in his
eye. He was almost truculent, and none who took the trouble to look at
him could doubt the fact that if ever there were a successful and a
contented man it was Andrew Provost.
"Permit me," he said, "to introduce my nephew, Mr. Joseph Gresson, the
inventor and builder of this wonderful ship. Step in, gentlemen, and
let us provide you with dry clothing and refreshment."
"And allow me to introduce Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw," cried Commander
Jackson, beaming upon the party. "Now, Mr. Provost, I think we had
better do something for this poor fellow who was lashed to the
waterplane. Let Alec take care of our guests for the moment."
"Alec! Alec! Of course; where is the fellow? Ah! There you are! Come
here, sir," cried Andrew, in mock tones of severity, beckoning to a
youth who till now had stood in the background. "This is Mr. Midshipman
Hamshaw, in command of the rescued party. Take him along to your cabin
and provide him with clothes. Hand the six men over to Sergeant Evans,
and ask him to see at once to their wants. There! I leave it to you.
We'll see what can be done for this poor fellow."
With his head still in a curious whirl, and his eyes turning from one
strange object to another Dicky obediently followed the young fellow who
had just been introduced as Alec, while Hawkins and the remainder of the
crew stepped along the curiously smooth, elastic floor of the gallery
after them. They reached a door, opened it and passed through, finding
themselves in a second wide gallery. But this was different from the
other; for it had doors on either side, while a railed-in square of
flooring near the centre showed a hatchway, leading by a shallow flight
of steps to a deck below, from which came the low hum of a motor.
"Sergeant Evans!" shouted Alec, and repeated the call.
"Here, sir!"
One of the many doors opened, and a tall, soldierly man appeared dressed
in the smart livery of a mess waiter. "Got something hot, sir," he said
brusquely. "I guessed food would be wanted, and so I set the cook to
work to prepare it. But they're wet, sir."
He nodded to the young naval officer and his men, and looked at them
with interest.
"Drenched," said Alec. "Pass the men along to Peters. Tell him to ferret
out clothing for 'em, and give 'em a meal. I'll take the officer to my
cabin, and we'll be in the saloon in five minutes."
The sergeant went off at once along the gallery, motioning to Hawkins
and his comrades to follow; while Alec dived in through an adjacent door
and ushered Dicky into as nice a cabin as he had ever seen. Indeed, it
contrasted more than favourably with his own quarters aboard the vessel
from which he had so recently parted. It was flooded with light from a
couple of electric burners, and heated by a stove fitted in the far
corner which was also operated by electricity. There were pictures on
the walls, secured in a manner which he had never observed before, while
the walls themselves were of a milky-white colour.
"Sit down over here," cried Alec, doing the honours with obvious pride.
"You see, this cabin communicates with the next, and there's a common
bathroom. That'll be the place in which to pull off your wet togs. Hop
into a hot bath as soon as you've got 'em off. By then I'll have a
complete rig-out for you. We're about the same height and size, eh?"
He had been looking his guest up and down sharply, admiring his uniform,
in spite of its drenched condition. And short though his scrutiny had
been Alec had come to the conclusion that Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw was a
right good fellow. As for Dicky himself, the novelty of his surroundings
and the strange adventure through which he had passed had altogether
kept his attention from his new comrade. He had merely noticed that Alec
was a straight, active-looking fellow, with a pleasant smile and a jolly
manner about him. Now, as he thanked him for his kind attention he gave
the young man a quick, frank glance, which missed very little.
"I say, thanks awfully," he began. "What's--what's your other name?"
"Jardine--Alec Jardine. But Alec's good enough. Yours is Hamshaw, isn't
it, Dicky?"
"Yes, Dicky," grinned the midshipman. "It's stuck to me ever since I was
at Osborne. I hate it, I can tell you. Makes one think one is a girl.
It's an awful nuisance looking so frightfully young, ain't it?"
They could condole with one another there, for Alec Jardine suffered
from the same infliction. To be precise, he was within two months of the
midshipman's age, no longer a boy, and not yet a man. And as is often
enough the case with youth, he resented the position, found his age
embarrassing, and his obvious juvenility a nuisance to say the least of
it. But he did not allow it to damp his good spirits.
"We'll get over it, that's one good thing," he laughed. "I say, this is
simply a ripping ship. You'll have an eye opener. But pull those togs
off; I was thinking that mine would about fit you."
"To a T. Tell me about the ship--an airship I suppose? Something like a
Zeppelin?"
"A Zeppelin! Why, that type of ship can't hold a candle to this one!"
declared Alec loftily. "I've seen 'em. They're fine to look at, fast,
and have big lifting capacity. But see how they behave. Let it blow just
a little hard, and they're done for, that is if they happen to be
outside their sheds and run out of petrol. It's only a week or more ago
since one of them lost her way in a fog, ran out of spirit, and was
forced to descend. She dropped into the hands of the French, my boy, and
they soon had every one of her cherished secrets laid bare. Don't you
make any mistake. This ship's not a Zeppelin. She's in a different
street; she's just splendid."
The unstinted praise of a vessel with which he was as yet unacquainted
whetted Dicky's appetite for a complete inspection. But not yet. He was
wet and cold, and decidedly hungry. The news that Sergeant Evans had
imparted had made his mouth water. Dicky reminded himself that there was
a hot meal in prospect, and so that it might not be delayed he dragged
off his wet clothes, and immersed himself in a bath of steaming hot
water that Alec had made ready for him. In about ten minutes he
announced that he was fully dressed.
"And as hungry as a hunter," he told his new friend. "You wait and try
the same experience. I was almost in our gunroom. In any case I could
tell you what we were to have for dinner, because in a ship you can't
keep all galley smells away from your messroom. Then they passed the
word for Mr. Hamshaw. Of course I had to go, leaving the other fellows
to sit down to a meal which I really wanted. An hour's steaming made me
ravenous, and then came our ducking. I say, lead the way there's a good
fellow. But I'd like to see my men before I take a bite myself. Eh?"
"Quite right. Look to your command first, then to number one. Follow
down the passage."
Dressed in Alec's clothing, and looking spruce and smart, Dicky followed
his friend down the gallery, through the door by which Hawkins and his
comrades had departed, and so into the quarters of the crew of this
strange vessel. Nor did there seem to be need for anxiety for the
welfare of the gallant fellows who had accompanied him upon the steam
pinnace. Already they were changed and dressed in clothing hurriedly
dragged from lockers. Surrounded by swinging bunks on either side, with
one huge electric lamp shedding its light upon them, they were seated
about a long table with half a dozen strangers amongst them.
"All aboard and comfortable, sir," grinned Hawkins, standing as his
officer appeared. "We've fallen amongst friends, and liberal ones too,
sir."
"And have got a meal here what ain't supplied every day of the week by
the Admiralty, sir," gurgled Hurst. "Not by a long way."
Dicky grinned his delight; and then, suddenly recollecting that it was
not exactly the thing for an officer to listen to what might be
construed as abuse of the Admiralty, he turned on his heel and motioned
to Alec to lead the way.
"And you mean to tell me that we're high up in the air, floating in
space!" he cried.
"One moment. Here we are--three thousand two hundred feet up," said
Alec, stopping just outside the door of the men's quarters to inspect a
barometer affixed to the wall. "That high enough?"
Dicky was at once conscious of a creepy feeling down his back. "What!"
he gasped. "Three thousand feet?"
"Every inch of it. As safe as if you were on land; safer, perhaps,
because you never know what's going to pass overhead nowadays, do you?
What with airships and aeroplanes, the land's beginning to be a
dangerous place to inhabit. Come along. You wait till it's daylight and
you can see below. You'll get used to the height in a jiffy, and you'll
agree that flying's magnificent. Here we are. Sergeant Evans!"
He dived in through a doorway, ushering his friend into a large saloon,
in the centre of which stood a table laid ready for dinner. And here
again we record but the bare fact when we say that Mr. Midshipman
Hamshaw positively gasped. He was dumbfounded at the luxury he found
here, at the brilliant lights, at the huge table groaning with silver
and glassware, at the laden sideboard, and at the richness of the
decorations. Whoever heard of such things aboard a ship sailing in the
air?
"Wonderful!" he cried. "Why, I imagined there would be nothing but
machinery--huge, oily engines thumping and thudding away at one's side,
with just an odd corner for the captain and crew to rest in. This is
magnificent; there's nothing better in all London."
It was at least flattering to Andrew Provost's taste, since he had been
the designer of all this magnificence. But who could expect Dicky
Hamshaw to take notice of rich carpets, of glittering silver, of famous
pictures clinging to silk-brocaded walls, when there was food before
him? He was ravenous. Had Alec had any doubts about the matter before,
this smart and jolly young sailor soon set them at rest. He tackled that
meal with the same dash and energy with which he had undertaken the task
that had sent him post haste away in the steam pinnace. It was, perhaps,
half an hour later when, having eaten to his own and Alec's content, he
leaned back in his chair, accepted with a wonderful assumption of
coolness the cigarette which Sergeant Evans offered him, and setting a
flaming match to the weed, tossed his head back and sent a cloud of
smoke upward. A moment later he had leaped to his feet with an
exclamation of amazement. He might have suddenly come upon a pin-point
by the cry he gave. But undoubtedly something of real importance had
created this excitement. He stood with his head tossed back, his eyes
fixed upward, and his lips parted.
"What's that?" he asked. "It startled me. I--I've never seen anything
like it. One appears to be looking through an enormous window into
space. What's the meaning of it?"
His excitement caused Alec to smile, though he, too, looked his
admiration as he gazed upward.
"Wait a moment," he said. "I'll switch off the light here and then the
effect will be greater. Now, how's that?"
Well might Dicky give vent to exclamations of surprise and even of
admiration, for, as he said, he had never seen anything nearly like this
before. Up till now he had been far too busy with his meal to take note
of anything but his immediate surroundings. But now, when he quite by
chance cast his eyes upward, it was to become aware of the fact that
this saloon apparently boasted of no ceiling. If it had one, then it was
transparent; while, more wonderful than all, the supporting gas bag of
this airship, which he imagined must be above, had all the appearance of
being non-existent. Far overhead there burned one single electric lamp,
casting its rays far and wide, illuminating the interior of the saloon
brightly. But it appeared to hang to nothing, to be supported by no beam
or rod, while the saloon itself in which he stood was, so far as he
could see, attached to nothing. It was merely floating in the air,
riding in space in the most uncanny and inexplicable fashion.
"Jingo!" he cried, feeling that strange, creepy sensation down his back
again. "We're--we're safe, I hope?"
"As a house," laughed Alec. "But it does give one the creeps, don't it?
The first night we were aboard and I looked upward it gave me quite a
turn, even though I knew all the ins and outs of this wonderful vessel.
Looks as if we were hanging here from nothing, eh?"
Dicky admitted the fact, with something approaching a gasp.
"And yet you're as sure as sure can be that such a thing is out of the
question, absolutely impossible?"
"Well, yes," admitted the young officer, not too enthusiastically, for
that uncanny feeling that he was high in the air, and might easily find
himself falling with terrible rapidity, assailed him. And who can blame
the midshipman? Who that has found himself suddenly at the edge of a
tall cliff and looked over has not been assailed by a sensation of
uneasiness, by the natural desire to reach firmer and more secure
ground, to retire from a spot which might easily be filled with perils?
Then think of Dicky Hamshaw high above the sea, aboard a ship the size
and shape and contour of which were unknown to him, standing in a gilded
saloon to all appearances open to the sky, with no ropes, no
beams--nothing, in fact, to show him how it was supported. No wonder he
shivered. Even Alec forebore to smile. The situation was unpleasant and
uncanny to say the least of it.
"Place your two hands together and look between them," said Alec,
suiting the action to the word. "Don't stare at the light up there, for
it's so bright that it half blinds you. Look well to one side. Now. Eh?"
He expected an answer, but Dicky failed to give it. Gasps of
astonishment escaped his wide-parted lips, gasps denoting pleasure and
admiration. For up above, now that he had shielded his eyes from the
glare and looked away from the light, he could dimly make out huge
girders stretching from left to right, criss-crossing and interlacing
with one another. Here and there they ended apparently in nothing.
Elsewhere they could be traced to their junction with other girders. And
on beyond them, far overhead, he could even see stars, blurred a trifle
by the material through which he observed them.
"Well, of all the wonderful things of which I have ever heard, this
beats all!" he gasped at last. "What's the thing made of? There are
girders above there heavy enough to carry a 'Dreadnought'. There's a
huge framework that looks as if it were constructed of solid bars of
steel; and yet, to look at them in a half light, which just throws out
their outline, one realizes that they are made of something else,
something transparent--yes, that's the term--for when one stares direct
at the light, knowing full well that there are more girders in that
direction, none of them can be detected. George, this beats everything!
What's the meaning of it all?"
"The meaning of it all! Why, that Joe Gresson is about the smartest
fellow you ever heard of, that he's had the courage to employ a
substance for the framework, and almost every part of this ship, which
the average engineer would treat with scorn. In short, he's the
discoverer of a substance which he calls celludine, which isn't
celluloid, nor common glass, nor talc, and yet which is wonderfully like
all three substances. You'll hear more about it, my boy. You'll get the
same idea of Joe that I and all the others have. Look here! Just rap
your knuckles against the wall of the saloon."
Dicky did as he was bidden, though he was still so astonished at the
news given him that he did not even trouble to ask the reason.
"Well, how does it feel? Of course, there's a silk covering. Under that
is the celludine. There's the same stuff here under the carpet."
"Hard, and yet it gives," said Dicky. "Appears to be very thin, and yet,
I imagine, is very strong."
"That's celludine," cried Alec triumphantly. "Every wall, every door and
frame is composed of it. Only here, where there are cabins--and one
doesn't want to be stared at all day long--it's coloured a milky white,
and so isn't transparent. But the ceiling is, that's why you can look
aloft and see the stars floating overhead. But come along. We'll take a
breather. I'll lead you to a spot that'll raise your hair, but will give
you a better idea of this airship than you can possibly have imagined."
They left the saloon at once, and passing along the gallery paused to
look into a room on the far side. There they found Commander Jackson,
Andrew, and Joe comfortably seated, smoking and chatting quietly.
"Ah, comfortably dressed and fed, my lad?" sang out the Commander.
"Yes, thank you, sir," smiled Dicky. "And, I say, sir, what a ship we've
got to!"
"You'll say so to-morrow, when you've looked over her," came the answer.
"Where are you two youngsters off to?"
"Aloft," sang out Alec. "I'm going to give him a scare, and get him used
to the situation. But how's the foreigner, please?"
"Conscious and tucked up in a warm bed," answered Andrew. "There, cut
along, you two. But no mischief, mind. I don't care if I'm responsible
for Alec, but I'll not be having the Admiralty pouring all their
indignation upon my unprotected head because of the loss of a
midshipman."
That set Dicky flushing, while the Commander laughed loudly.
"There, off you get," he cried. "Trust a midshipman to look out for
himself."
They closed the door, hastened along the gallery, and passing through a
second door found themselves in the gallery upon which Dicky had first
set foot. Alec led him to the precise spot where the lift had finally
halted, and pointed to an opening overhead.
"It's the main hoist," he explained. "If we want to pick something up
from down below we lower that platform, just as we did to fetch your
party. If we desire to get aloft to the top of the ship we step aboard
the platform, now provided with rails; just so, Dicky, my boy, see that
all's secure and safe, and then touch a button. Whiz! Up we go!"
It was a case of whiz with a vengeance. Dick had obediently followed his
guide on to this lift, and now he felt his knees bend beneath him, while
the smooth, elastic floor on which he stood shot upward at terrific
speed, flashing through an oblong opening in the framework overhead, a
framework quite transparent for the most part, with that arc light
flashing down upon them without the smallest hindrance.
"Saves climbing, don't it?" shouted Alec, for the noise of a motor
drowned the ordinary voice. "But if the thing refuses to work you can
mount to the top of the ship by a stairway erected round the lift. Ah!
Here we are. Hang on to your hat; it's blowing."
Dick felt a fresh gale of wind fanning his cheek, which alone told him
that he was now in the open. He followed his friend across a flat,
smooth deck and found himself clutching to a railing. And now for the
first time he began to gather some information as to the contour and
size of this amazing vessel. He might have been upon the upper deck of a
second _Lusitania_, only this deck shelved off gradually on either side
till it was lost in the darkness. That arc lamp, however, helped him
wonderfully, and pacing beside Alec he began soon to wonder at the
length of the ship as well as at her breadth. She was immense. It was
hard indeed to believe that she was actually floating in space. And yet
that must be so, for Alec bade him look downward.
"See for yourself," he said. "We're right forward, close to her nose,
and there are no cabins beneath us. You can see clear through the ship
down to the ocean. See the beacon lights along the shore, the lights of
the vessels, and the blaze away there in the distance. That's where your
ship is lying."
Even at night-time the sight was an amazing one, and left Dick
stupefied. But what would it be in the morning, when there was no
darkness to hinder his sight, and when he would be able to gaze directly
downward from that terrific height?
"Let's go down," he said after a while. "I feel positively silly out
here. I suppose it's because I'm not used to such a sight. How did you
feel when you first attempted it?"
Alec laughed outright. "Feel? Awful!" he cried. "Everyone does at first,
and wonders whether they're funking. Wait for the day. You'll get to
love the view, particularly when you've learned how safe this vessel is.
Come along; to-morrow there'll be a heap to show you."
They turned back toward the lift again and paused there for a moment.
For beyond doubt there was at every turn something to attract the
attention. A minute before it had been the lights about the Needles, the
lamps on the shipping, the blaze from the Solent, where the warships
were lying at anchor. Now it was the interior of the ship, seen through
her transparent upper casing. Yes, there was the saloon, with Sergeant
Evans and a helper clearing the table. Nearer at hand were Andrew
Provost, Joe Gresson, and Commander Jackson, still smoking and chatting
as they lolled in their chairs. While away aft, in the men's quarters,
the figures of Hawkins and Hurst and his shipmates were distinctly
visible. They were smoking heavily, and between the clouds of smoke
Hawkins's arm could be seen moving with some animation.
"He's just it," he was reiterating, "that there midshipmite is as
artiful as a bag o' monkeys, and if he was to be left aboard this ship,
why, there'd be mischief brewing, particularly with the young gent
that's joined him."
And how Dick Hamshaw wished that he might remain. The first glimpse of
this amazing vessel made him long for the day to come, so that he might
investigate every corner. Then, he supposed, he'd have to depart. He and
his men would take their places on that platform again and be lowered to
terra firma. But the most unlikely things happen. He found that to be
the case when he and Alec again joined their elders.
"Read that," said Commander Jackson, tossing a sheet of paper towards
him. "We sent a wireless to your ship, and told 'em of your rescue. It
seems they'd just heard of this airship through the Admiralty, and had
orders to detail a party for her working. We've saved 'em the trouble.
Read it."
Dick did, with flushing cheeks and beating heart. "Glad hear safety
Midshipman Hamshaw and crew of pinnace," he read. "Have received orders
from Admiralty to detail an officer and party for work aboard the
airship. Keep Mr. Hamshaw and party if considered suitable."
"Hooray!" shouted Dick, filled with delight.
"One moment," interrupted the Commander with a quizzing grin. "If
considered suitable, I think. Well, now, one has to consider."
"Don't scare the young fellow," cried Andrew jovially. "There, Dick,
we'll take you. Just go along and tell your men, and then turn in.
You've had enough adventure and excitement for the evening."
When, ten minutes later, Dick laid his head upon a soft pillow and
pulled the clothes about him he could not believe that he was really
aboard a flying vessel, could not credit the fact that he and his men
were resting three thousand feet above the ocean.