A BATTLE IN THE NIGHT.
At half-past five on the morning of the 23rd of June, the Cunard
liner _Aurania_ left New York for Queenstown and Liverpool. She was
the largest and swiftest passenger steamer afloat, and on her maiden
voyage she had lowered the Atlantic record by no less than twelve
hours; that is to say, she had performed the journey from Sandy Hook
to Queenstown in four days and a half exactly. Her measurement was
forty-five thousand tons, and her twin screws, driven by quadruple
engines, developing sixty thousand horse-power, forced her through
the water at the unparalleled speed of thirty knots, or thirty-four
and a half statute miles an hour.
Since the outbreak of the war it had been found necessary to take all
but the most powerful vessels off the Atlantic route, for, as had
long been foreseen, the enemies of the Anglo-German Alliance were
making the most determined efforts to cripple the Transatlantic trade
of Britain and Germany, and swift, heavily-armed French and Italian
cruisers, attended by torpedo-boats and gun-boats, and supported by
battle-ships and depôt vessels for coaling purposes, were swarming
along the great ocean highway.
These, of course, had to be opposed by an equal or greater force of
British warships. In fact, the burden of keeping the Atlantic route
open fell entirely on Britain, for the German and Austrian fleets had
all the work they were capable of doing nearer home in the Baltic and
Mediterranean.
The terrible mistake that had been made by the House of Lords in
negativing the Italian Loan had already become disastrously apparent,
for though the Anglo-Teutonic Alliance was putting forth every
effort, its available ships were only just sufficient to keep the
home waters clear and the ocean routes practically open, even for the
fastest steamers.
The task, therefore, which lay before the _Aurania_ when she cleared
American waters was little less than running the gauntlet for nearly
three thousand miles. The French cruiser which had been captured by
the _Andromeda_, thanks to the assistance of the _Ithuriel_, had left
Brest with the express purpose of helping to intercept the great
Cunarder, for she had crossed the Atlantic five times already without
a scratch since the war had begun, showing a very clean pair of heels
to everything that had attempted to overhaul her, and now on her
sixth passage a grand effort was to be made to capture or cripple the
famous ocean greyhound.
It was by far her most important voyage in more senses than one. In
the first place, her incomparable speed and good luck had made her
out of sight the prime favourite with those passengers who were
obliged to cross the Atlantic, war or no war, and for the same
reasons she also carried more mails and specie than any other liner,
and this voyage she had an enormously valuable consignment of both on
board. As for passengers, every available foot of space was taken for
months in advance.
Enterprising agents on both sides of the water had bought up every
berth from stem to stern, and had put them up to auction, realising
fabulous prices, which had little chance of being abated, even when
her sister ship the _Sidonia_, the construction of which was being
pushed forward on the Clyde with all possible speed, was ready to
take the water.
But the chief importance of this particular passage lay, though
barely half a dozen persons were aware of it, in the fact that among
her passengers was Michael Roburoff, chief of the American Section of
the Terrorists, who was bringing to the Council his report of the
work of the Brotherhood in the United States, together with the
information which he had collected, by means of an army of spies, as
to the true intentions of the American Government with regard to the
war.
These, so far as the rest of the world was concerned, were a profound
secret, and he was the only man outside the President's Cabinet and
the Tsar's Privy Council who had accurate information with regard to
them. The _Aurania_ was therefore not only carrying mails, treasure,
and passengers, but, in the person of Michael Roburoff, she was
carrying secrets on the revelation of which the whole issue of the
war and the destiny of the world might turn.
America was the one great Power not involved in the tremendous
struggle that was being waged. The most astute diplomatist in Europe
had no idea what her real policy was, but every one knew that the
side on which she threw the weight of her boundless wealth and vast
resources must infallibly win in the long run.
The plan that had been adopted by Britain for keeping the Atlantic
route open was briefly as follows:--All along the 3000 miles of the
steamer track a battleship was stationed at the end of every day's
run, that is to say, at intervals of about 500 miles, and patrolled
within a radius of 100 miles. Each of these was attended by two
heavily-armed cruisers and four torpedo-boats, while between these
points swifter cruisers were constantly running to and fro convoying
the liners.
Thus, when the _Aurania_ left New York, she was picked up on the
limit of the American water by two cruisers, which would keep pace
with her as well as they could until she reached the first
battleship. As she passed the ironclad these two would leave her, and
the next two would take up the running, and so on until she reached
the range of operations of the Irish Squadron.
No other Power in the world could have maintained such a system of
ocean police, but Britain was putting forth the whole of her mighty
naval strength, and so she spared neither ships nor money to keep
open the American and Canadian routes, for on them nearly half her
food-supply depended, as well as her chief line of communication with
the far East.
On the other hand, her enemies were making desperate efforts to break
the chain of steel that was thus stretched across the hemisphere, for
they well knew that, this once broken, the first real triumph of the
war would have been won.
Five hundred miles out from New York the _Aurania_ was joined by the
_Oceana_, the largest vessel on the Canadian Pacific line from
Halifax to Liverpool. So far no enemy had been seen. The two great
liners reached the first battleship together, and were joined by the
second pair of cruisers. Before sunset the Cunarder had drawn ahead
of her companions, and by nightfall was racing away alone over the
water with every light carefully concealed, and keeping an eager
look-out for friend or foe.
There was no moon, and the sky was so heavily overcast with clouds,
that, under any other circumstances, it would have been the height of
rashness to go rushing through the darkness at such a headlong speed.
But the captain of the _Aurania_ was aware of the state of the road,
and he knew that in speed and secrecy lay his only chances of getting
his magnificent vessel through in safety.
Soon after ten o'clock lights were sighted dead ahead. The course was
slightly altered, and the great liner swept past one of the North
German Lloyd boats in company with a cruiser. The private signal was
made and answered, and in half an hour she was again alone amidst the
darkness.
It was nearly eleven o'clock, when Michael Roburoff, who was standing
under the lee of one of the ventilators amidships, smoking a last
pipe before turning in, saw a figure muffled in a huge grey ulster
creeping into the deeper shadows under the bridge. It was so dark
that he could only just make out the outline of the figure, but he
could see enough to rouse his ever ready suspicions in the furtive
movements that the man was making.
He stole out on the starboard, that is the southward, rail of the
spar-deck, and Michael, straining his eyes to the utmost, saw him
take a round flat object from under his coat, and then look round
stealthily to see if he was observed. As he did so Michael whipped a
pistol out of his pocket, levelled it at the man, and said in a low,
distinct tone--
"Put that back, or I'll shoot!"
For all answer the man raised his arm to throw the object overboard.
Michael, taking the best aim he could in the darkness, fired. The
bullet struck the elbow of the raised arm, the man lurched forward
with a low cry of rage and pain, grasped the object with his other
hand, and, as he fell to the deck, flung it into the sea.
Scarcely had it touched the water when it burst into flame, and an
intensely bright blaze of bluish-white light shot up, shattering the
darkness, and illuminating the great ship from the waterline to the
trucks of her masts. Instantly the deck of the liner was a scene of
wild excitement. In a moment the man whom Roburoff had wounded was
secured in the act of trying to throw himself overboard. Michael
himself was rapidly questioned by the captain, who was immediately on
the spot.
He told his story in a dozen words, and explained that he had fired
to disable the man and prevent the fire-signal falling into the sea.
There was no doubt about the guilt of the traitor, for he himself cut
the captain's interrogation short by saying defiantly, in broken
English that at once betrayed him as a Frenchman--
"Yees, I do it! I give signal to ze fleet down there. If I succeeded,
I got half million francs. I fail, so shoot! C'est la fortune de la
guerre! Voilà, look! They come!"
As the spy said this he pointed to the south-eastern horizon. A brief
bright flash of white light went up through the night and vanished.
It was the answering signal from the French or Italian cruisers,
which were making all speed up from the south-east to head off the
_Aurania_ before she reached the next station and gained the
protection of the British battleship.
The spy's words were only too true. He had gone to America for the
sole purpose of returning in the _Aurania_ and giving the signal at
this particular point on the passage. Within ten miles were four of
the fleetest French and Italian cruisers, six torpedo-boats, and two
battleships, which, by keeping well to the southward during the day,
and then putting on all steam as soon as night fell, had managed to
head off the ocean greyhound at last.
Two cruisers and a battleship with two torpedo-boats were coming up
from the south-east; one cruiser, the other battleship, and two
torpedo-boats were bearing down from the south-west, and the
remaining cruiser and brace of torpedo-boats had managed to slip
through the British line and gain a position to the northward.
This large force had not been brought up without good reason. The
_Aurania_ was the biggest prize afloat, and well worth fighting for,
if it came to blows, as it very probably would do; added to which
there was a very good chance of one or two other liners falling
victims to a well-planned and successful raid.
The French spy was at once sent below and put into safe keeping, and
the signal to "stoke up" was sent to the engine-rooms. The firemen
responded with a will, extra hands were put on in the stokeholes, and
the furnaces taxed to their utmost capacity. The boilers palpitated
under the tremendous head of steam, the engines throbbed and groaned
like labouring giants, and the great ship, trembling like some live
animal under the lash, rushed faster and faster over the long dark
rollers under the impulse of her whirling screws.
There was no longer any need for concealment even if it had been
possible. Speed and speed only afforded the sole chance of escape. Of
course the captain of the _Aurania_ had no idea of the strength or
disposition of the force that had undertaken his capture. Had he
known the true state of the case, his anxiety would have been a good
deal greater than it was. He fully believed that he could outsteam
the vessels to the south-east, and, once past these, he knew that he
would be in touch with the British ships at the next station before
any harm could come to him. He therefore headed a little more to the
northward, and trusted with perfect confidence to his heels.
Michael Roburoff was the hero of the moment, and the captain
cordially thanked him for his prompt attempt to frustrate the
atrocious act of the spy which deliberately endangered the liberty
and perhaps the lives of more than a thousand non-combatants.
Michael, however, cut his thanks short by taking him aside and asking
him what he thought of the position of affairs. He spoke so seriously
that the captain thought he was frightened, and by way of reassuring
him replied cheerily--
"Don't have any fear for the _Aurania_, Mr. Roburoff. That's only a
cruiser, or perhaps a couple, down there, and the enemy haven't a
ship that I can't give a good five knots and a beating to. We shall
sight the British ships soon after daybreak, and by that time those
fellows will be fifty miles behind us."
"I have as much confidence in the _Aurania's_ speed as you have,
Captain Frazer," replied Michael, "but I'm afraid you are underrating
the enemy's strength. Do you know that within the last few days it
has been almost doubled, and that a determined effort is to be made,
not only to catch or sink the _Aurania_, but also to break the
British line of posts, and cut the line of American and Canadian
communication altogether?"
"No, sir," replied the captain, looking sharply at Michael. "I don't
know anything of the sort, neither do the commanders of the British
warships on this side. If your information is correct, I should like
to know how you came by it. You are a Russian by name"--
"But not a subject of the Tsar," quickly interrupted Michael. "I am
an American citizen, and I have come by this information not as the
friend of Russia, as you seem to suspect, but as her enemy, or rather
as the enemy of her ruler. How I got it is my business. It is enough
for you to know that it is correct, and that you are in far greater
danger than you think you are. The signal given by that French spy
was evidently part of a prearranged plan, and for all you know you
may even now be surrounded, or steaming straight into a trap that has
been laid for you. If I may advise, I would earnestly counsel you to
double on your course and make every effort to rejoin the other liner
and the cruisers we have passed."
"Nonsense, sir, nonsense!" answered the captain testily. "Our
watch-dogs are far too wide awake to be caught napping like that. You
have been deceived by one of the rumours that are filling the air
just now. You can go to your berth and sleep in peace, and to-morrow
you shall be half-way across the Atlantic without an enemy's ship in
sight."
"Captain Frazer," said Michael very seriously, "with your leave I
shall not go to my berth; and what is more, I can tell you that very
few of us will get much sleep to-night, and that if you do not back I
hardly think you will be flying the British flag to-morrow. Ha! look
there--and there!"
Michael seized the captain's arm suddenly, and pointed rapidly to the
south-east and north-east. Two thin rays of light flashed up into the
sky one after the other. Then came a third from the south-west, and
then darkness again. At the same instant came the hails from the
look-outs announcing the lights.
Captain Frazer was wrong, and he saw that he was at a glance. The
flash in the north-east could not be from a friend, for it was a
plain answer to the known enemy in the south-east, and so too in all
probability was the third. If so, the _Aurania_ was almost
surrounded.
The captain wasted no words in confessing his error, but ran up on to
the bridge to rectify it as far as he could at once. The helm was put
hard over, the port screw was reversed, and the steamer swung round
in a wide sweep, and was soon speeding back westward over her own
tracks. An hour's run brought her in sight of the lights of the
_North German_ and her escort. She slowed as she passed them, and
told the news. Then she sped on again at full-speed to meet the
_Oceana_ and the two cruisers, which were about fifty miles behind.
By one A.M. the three cruisers and the three liners had joined
forces, and were steaming westward at twenty knots an hour, the
liners in single file led by a cruiser, and having one on each beam.
Soon the flashes on the horizon grew more frequent, always drawing
closer together.
Then those in the westward dropped from the perpendicular to the
horizontal, and swept the water as though seeking something. It was
not long before the darting rays of one of the searchlights fell
across the track of the British flotilla. Instantly from all three
points converging flashes were concentrated upon it, revealing the
outline of every ship with the most perfect distinctness.
The last hope of running through the hostile fleet unperceived had
now vanished. There was nothing for it but to go ahead full-speed,
and trust to the chances of a running fight to get clear. With a view
of finding out the strength of the enemy, the British cruisers now
turned their searchlights on and swept the horizon.
A very few moments sufficed to show that an overwhelming force was
closing in on them from three sides. They were completely caught in a
trap, from which there was no escape save by running the gauntlet.
Whichever way they headed they would have to pass through the
converging fire of the enemy.
The weakest point, so far as they could see, was the one cruiser and
two torpedo-boats to the northward, and so towards them they headed.
At the speed at which they were travelling it needed but a few
minutes to bring them within range, and the British commanders
rightly decided to concentrate their fire for the present on the
single cruiser and her two attendants, in the hope of sinking them
before the others could get into action.
At three thousand yards the heavy guns came into play, and a storm of
shell was hurled upon the advancing foe, who lost no time in replying
in the same terms. As the vessels approached each other the shooting
became closer and terribly effective.
The searchlights of the British cruisers were kept full ahead, and
every attempt of the torpedo-boats to get round on the flank was
foiled by a hail of shot from the quick-firing guns. Within fifteen
minutes of opening fire one of these was sunk and the other disabled.
The French cruiser, too, suffered fearfully from the tempest of shot
and shell that was rained upon her.
Had the British got within range of her half an hour sooner the plan
would have been completely foiled. As it was, her fate was sealed,
but it was too late. The three British warships rushed at her
together, vomiting flame and smoke and iron across the
rapidly-decreasing distance, until within five hundred yards of her.
Then the fire from the two on either flank suddenly stopped.
The centre one, still blazing away, put on her forced draught,
swerved sharply round, and then darted in on her with the ram. There
was a terrific shock, a heavy, grinding crunch, and then the mighty
mass of the charging vessel, hurled at nearly thirty miles an hour
upon her victim, bored and ground her resistless way into her side.
Then she suddenly reversed her engines and backed out. In less than
thirty seconds it was all over. The Frenchman, almost cut in half by
the frightful blow, reeled once, and once only, and then went down
like a stone.
But by this time the other two divisions of the enemy were within
range, and through the roar of the lighter artillery now came the
deep, sullen boom of the big guns on the battleships, and the great
thousand-pound projectiles began to scream through the air and fling
the water up into mountains of foam where they pitched.
Where one of them struck, death and destruction would follow as
surely as though it were a thunderbolt from Heaven. The three liners
scattered and steamed away to the northward as fast as their
propellers would drive them. But what was their utmost speed to that
of the projectiles cleaving through the air at more than two thousand
feet a second?
See! one at length strikes the German liner square amidships, and
bursts. There is a horrible explosion. The searchlight thrown on her
shows a cloud of steam and smoke and flame rising up from her riven
decks. Where her funnels were is a huge ragged black hole. This is
visible for an instant, then her back breaks, and in two halves she
follows the French cruiser to the bottom of the Atlantic.
The sinking of the German liner was the signal for the appearance of
a new actor on the scene, and the commencement of a work of
destruction more appalling than anything that human warfare had so
far known.
Michael Roburoff, standing on the spar-deck of the flying _Aurania_,
suddenly saw a bright stream of light shoot down from the clouds, and
flash hither and thither, till it hovered over the advancing French
and Italian squadron. For the moment the combat ceased, so astounded
were the combatants on both sides at this mysterious apparition.
Then, without the slightest warning, with no flash or roar of guns,
there came a series of frightful explosions among the ships of the
pursuers. They followed each other so quickly that the darkness
behind the electric lights seemed lit with a continuous blaze of
livid green flame for three or four minutes.
Then there was darkness and silence. Black darkness and absolute
silence. The searchlights were extinguished, and the roar of the
artillery was still. The British waited in dazed silence for it to
begin again, but it never did. The whole of the pursuing squadron had
been annihilated.
[Illustration: "This mysterious apparition."
_See page 178._]