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 over
Plymouth this morning! Great battle in Austria yesterday, defeat of
the Austrians--awful slaughter with war-balloons! Special!"
The boy was selling the papers as fast as he could hand them out to
the eager passengers. Tremayne secured one, shut the door of the
saloon again, and, turning to the middle page, read aloud to Natas--
"We have just received a telegram from our Plymouth correspondent, to
say that soon after daybreak this morning torpedo-boat No. 157
steamed into the Sound, bringing the news that she had sighted a
large five-masted air-ship about ten miles from the coast, when in
company with the cruiser _Ariadne_, whose commander had despatched
her with the news. Hardly had the report been received when the
air-ship herself passed over Mount Edgcumbe and came towards the
town.
"The news spread like wildfire, and in a few minutes the streets were
filled with crowds of people, who had thrown on a few clothes and
rushed out to get a look at the strange visitant. At first it was
thought that an attack on the arsenal was intended by the mysterious
vessel, and the excitement had risen almost to the pitch of panic,
when it was observed that she was flying a plain white flag, and that
her intentions were apparently peaceful.
"Panic then gave place to curiosity. The air-ship crossed the town at
an elevation of about 3000 feet, described a complete circle round it
in the space of a few minutes, and then suddenly shot up into the air
and vanished to the south-westward at an inconceivable speed. The
vessel is described as being about a hundred feet long, and was
apparently armed with eight guns. Her hull was of white polished
metal, probably aluminium, and shone like silver in the sunlight.
"The wildest rumours are current as to the object of her visit, but
of course no credence can be attached to any of them. The vessel is
plainly of the same type as that which destroyed Kronstadt two months
ago, but larger and more powerful. The inference is that she is one
of a fleet in the hands of the Terrorists, and the profoundest
uncertainty and anxiety prevail throughout naval and military circles
everywhere as to the use that they may make of these appalling means
of destruction should they take any share in the war."
"Humph!" said Tremayne, as he finished reading. "Johnston's telegram
must 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 Plymouth
this evening. Your men will take you straight to the Great Western
Hotel, and I will hurry my business through as fast as possible, and
meet you there in time to catch the 6.30. At this rate we shall meet
the _Aurania_ soon after she leaves New York."
Within the next six hours Tremayne transferred the whole of his vast
property in a single instrument to his promised wife, thus making her
the richest woman in England; handed the precious deeds to her
astonished father; obtained his promise to take his wife and daughter
to Alanmere at the end of the London season, and to remain there with
her until he returned to reclaim her and his estates together; and
said good-bye to Lady Muriel herself in an interview which was a good
deal longer than that which he had with his bewildered and somewhat
scandalised lawyers, who had never before been forced to rush any
transaction through at such an indecent speed. Had Lord Alanmere not
been the best client in the kingdom, they might have rebelled against
such an outrage on the law's time-honoured delays; but he was not a
man to be trifled with, and so the work was done and an unbeatable
record in legal despatch accomplished, albeit very unwillingly, by
the men of law.
By midnight the _Lurline_, ostensibly bound for Queenstown, had
cleared the Sound, and, with the Eddystone Light on her port bow,
headed away at full-speed to the westward. She was about the fastest
yacht afloat, and at a pinch could be driven a good twenty-seven
miles an hour through the water. As both Natas and Tremayne were
anxious to join the air-ship as soon as possible, every ounce of
steam that her boilers would stand was put on, and she slipped along
in splendid style through the long, dark seas that came rolling
smoothly up Channel from the westward.
In an hour and a half after passing the Eddystone she sighted the
Lizard Light, and by the time she had brought it well abeam the first
interruption of her voyage occurred. A huge, dark mass loomed
suddenly up out of the darkness of the moonless night, then a
blinding, dazzling ray of light shot across the water from the
searchlight of a battleship that was patrolling the coast, attended
by a couple of cruisers and four torpedo-boats. One of these last
came flying towards the yacht down the white path of the beam of
light, and Tremayne, seeing that he would have to give an account of
himself, stopped his engines and waited for the torpedo-boat to come
within hail.
"Steamer ahoy! Who are you? and where are you going to at that
speed?"
"This is the _Lurline_, the Earl of Alanmere's yacht, from Plymouth
to Queenstown. We're only going at our usual speed."
"Oh, if it's the _Lurline_, you needn't say that," answered the
officer who had hailed from the torpedo-boat, with a laugh. "Is Lord
Alanmere on board?"
"Yes, here I am," said Tremayne, replying instead of his
sailing-master. "Is that you, Selwyn? I thought I recognised your
voice."
"Yes, it's I, or rather all that's left of me after two months in
this buck-jumping little brute of a craft. She bobs twice in the same
hole every time, and if it's a fairly deep hole she just dives right
through and out on the other side; and there are such a lot of
Frenchmen about that we get no rest day or night on this patrolling
business."
"Very sorry for you, old man; but if you will seek glory in a
torpedo-boat, I don't see that you can expect anything else. Will you
come on board and have a drink?"
"No, thanks. Very sorry, but I can't stop. By the way, have you heard
of that air-ship that was over this way this morning? I wonder what
the deuce it really is, and what it's up to?"
"I've heard of it; it was in the London papers this morning. Have you
seen 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 vanished
during the afternoon. Where to, I don't know. It's awfully
humiliating, you know, to be obliged to crawl about here on the
water, at twenty-five knots at the utmost, while that fellow is
flying a hundred miles an hour or so through the clouds without
turning 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 he
is."
"Not much on earth apparently, but something very considerable in the
air, 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, perhaps
you'll excuse me saying good-night and getting along, if you won't
come on board."
"No, very sorry I can't. Good-night, and keep well in to the coast
till you have to cross to Ireland. Good-bye?"
"Good-bye!" shouted Tremayne in reply, as the torpedo-boat swung
round and headed back to the battleship, and he gave the order to go
ahead again at full-speed.
In another hour they were off the Land's End, and from there they
headed out due south-west into the Atlantic. They had hardly made
another hundred miles before it began to grow light, and then it
became necessary to keep a bright look-out for the air-ship, for
according to what they had heard from the commander of the
torpedo-boat she might be sighted at any moment as soon as it was
light 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 another
seventy-five miles or so to go before the rendezvous was reached.
"Steamer to the south'ard!" sang out the man on the forecastle, just
as Tremayne came on deck after an attempt at a brief nap. He picked
up his glass, and took a good look at the thin cloud of smoke away on
the southern horizon.
From what he could see it was a large steamer, and was coming up very
fast, almost at right angles to the course of the _Lurline_. Fifteen
minutes later he was able to see that the stranger was a warship, and
that she was heading for Queenstown. She was therefore either a
British ship attached to the Irish Squadron, or else she was an enemy
with designs on the liners bound for Liverpool.
In either case it was most undesirable that the yacht should be
overhauled again. Any mishap to her, even a lengthy delay, might have
the most serious consequences. A single unlucky shell exploding in
her engine-room would disable her, and perhaps change the future
history 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 the
same 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 the
warship, for she at once swerved off more to the westward, and
brought herself dead astern of the _Lurline_. She was now near enough
for Tremayne to see that she was a large cruiser, and attended by a
brace of torpedo-boats, which were running along one under each of
her quarters, like a couple of dogs following a hunter.
There was now no doubt but that, whatever her nationality, she was
bent on overhauling the yacht, if possible, and the dense volumes of
smoke that were pouring out of her funnels told Tremayne that she was
stoking up vigorously for the chase.
By this time she was about seven miles away, and the _Lurline_, her
twin screws beating the water at their utmost speed, and every plate
in her trembling under the vibration of her engines, rushed through
the water faster than she had ever done since the day she was
launched. As far as could be seen, she was holding her own well in
what had now become a dead-on stern chase.
Still the stranger showed no flag, and though Tremayne could hardly
believe that a hostile cruiser and a couple of torpedo-boats would
venture 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-white
smoke shot up a moment later from the funnels of one of the
torpedo-boats, telling that she had put on the forced draught, and,
like a greyhound slipped from the leash, she began to draw away from
the big ship, plunging through the long rollers, and half-burying
herself in the foam that she threw up from her bows.
Tremayne knew that there were some of these viperish little craft in
the French navy that could be driven thirty miles an hour through the
water, and if this was one of them, capture was only a matter of
time, unless the air-ship sighted them and came to the rescue.
Happily, although there was a considerable swell on, the water was
smooth and free from short waves, and this was to the advantage of
the _Lurline_; for she went along "as dry as a bone," while the
torpedo-boat, lying much lower in the water, rammed her nose into
every roller, and so lost a certain amount of way. The yacht was
making a good twenty-eight miles an hour under the heroic efforts of
the engineers; and at this rate it would be nearly two hours before
she was overhauled, provided that the torpedo-boat was not able to
use the gun that she carried forward of her funnels with any
dangerous effect.
There could now be no doubt as to the hostility of the pursuers. Had
they been British, they would have answered the flag flying at the
peak of the yacht.
"Steamer coming down from the nor'ard, sir!" suddenly sang out a man
whom Tremayne had just stationed in the fore cross-trees to look out
for 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, bearing
down directly on the yacht, and so approaching the torpedo-boat
almost stem on. There was no doubt about her nationality. A glance
through the glass showed Tremayne the white ensign floating above the
horizontal stream of smoke that stretched behind her. She was a
British cruiser, no doubt a scout of the Irish Squadron, and had
sighted the smoke of the yacht and her pursuers, and had come to
investigate.
Tremayne breathed more freely now, for he knew that his flag would
procure the assistance of the new-comer in case it was wanted, as
indeed it very soon was.
Hardly had the British cruiser come well in sight than a puff of
smoke rose from the deck of the other warship, and a shell came
whistling through the air, and burst within a hundred yards of the
_Lurline_. Twenty-four hours ago Tremayne had been one of the richest
men in England, and just now he would have willingly given all that
he had possessed to be twenty-five miles further to the
south-westward than he was.
Another shell from the Frenchman passed clear over the _Lurline_, and
plunged into the water and burst, throwing a cloud of spray high into
the air. Then came one from the torpedo-boat, but she was still too
far off for her light gun to do any damage, and the projectile fell
spent 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 than
all, 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 the
air-ship before you sink us."
Meanwhile the two cruisers, each approaching the other at a speed of
more than twenty miles an hour, had got within shot. A puff of smoke
spurted out from the side of the latest comer. The well-aimed
projectile passed fifty yards astern of the _Lurline_, and struck the
advancing torpedo-boat square on the bow.
The next instant it was plainly apparent that there was nothing more
to be feared from her. The solid shot had passed clean through her
two sides. Her nose went down and her stern came up. Then bang went
another gun from the British cruiser. This time the messenger of
death was a shell. It struck the inclined deck amidships, there was a
flash of flame, a cloud of steam rose up from her bursting boilers,
and then she broke in two and vanished beneath the smooth-rolling
waves.
Two minutes later the duel began in deadly earnest. The tricolor ran
up to the masthead of the French cruiser, and jets of mingled smoke
and flame spurted one after the other from her sides, and shells
began bursting in quick succession round the rapidly-advancing
Englishman. Evidently the Frenchman, with his remaining torpedo-boat,
thought himself a good match for the British cruiser, for he showed
no disposition to shirk the combat, despite the fact that he was so
near to the cruising ground of a powerful squadron.
As the two cruisers approached each other, the fire from their heavy
guns was supplemented by that of their light quick-firing armament,
until each of them became a floating volcano, vomiting continuous
jets of smoke and flame, and hurling showers of shot and shell across
the rapidly-lessening space between them.
The din of the hideous concert became little short of appalling, even
to the most hardened nerves. The continuous deep booming of the heavy
guns, as they belched forth their three-hundred-pound projectiles,
mingled with the sharp ringing reports of the thirty and forty pound
quick-firers, and the horrible grinding rattle of the machine guns in
the tops that sounded clearly above all, and every few seconds came
the scream and the bang of bursting shells, and the dull, crashing
sound of rending and breaking steel, as the terrible missiles of
death and destruction found their destined mark.
Happily the _Lurline_ was out of the line of fire, or she would have
been torn to fragments and sent to the bottom in a few seconds. She
continued on her course at her utmost speed, and the French cruiser
was, of course, too busy to pay any further attention to her. Not so
the remaining torpedo-boat, however, which, leaving the two big ships
to fight out their duel for the present, was pursuing the yacht at
the 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 the
air-ship, kept his flag flying and his engines working to the last
ounce that the quivering boilers would stand, and the Frenchman,
seeing that he was determined to escape if he could, opened fire on
him with his twenty-pounder.
Owing to the high speed of the two vessels, and the rolling of the
torpedo-boat, not much execution was done at first; but, as the
distance diminished, shell after shell crashed through the bulwarks
of the _Lurline_, ripping them longitudinally, and tearing up the
deck-planks with their jagged fragments. The wheel-house and the
funnel escaped by a miracle, and the yacht being end on to her
pursuer, the engines and boilers were comparatively safe.
One boat had also escaped, and that was hanging ready to be lowered
at a moment's notice.
At last a shell struck the funnel, burst, and shattered it to
fragments. 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 with
a triumphant shout--
"The air-ship! The air-ship!"
Hardly had the words left his lips when a shell from the torpedo-boat
struck the _Lurline_ under the quarter, and ripped one of her plates
out like a sheet of paper. The next instant the engineer rushed up on
deck, 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 of
the wheel-house, dived into the cabin, and a moment later reappeared
with Natas in his arms, and followed by his two attendants. Then,
without the loss of a second, but in perfect order, the quarter-boat
was 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 down
from a height of two thousand feet, and slowed up within a thousand
yards of the torpedo-boat. A projectile rushed through the air and
landed on the deck of the Frenchman. There was a flash of greenish
flame, a cloud of mingled smoke and steam, and when this had drifted
away there was not a vestige of the torpedo-boat to be seen. Then a
few fragments of iron splashed into the water here and there, and
that was all that betokened her fate.