ARMAGEDDON.
On the southern side of London the struggle between the
Franco-Italian armies and the troops of the Federation had been
raging all night with unabated fury along a curved line extending
from Bexley to Richmond.
The railways communicating with the ports of the south and east had,
for their own purposes, been left intact by the commanders of the
League; and so sudden and utterly unexpected had been the invasion of
the force from America, and the simultaneous uprising of the British
Section of the Brotherhood, that they had fallen into the hands of
the Federationists almost without a struggle. This had enabled the
invaders and their allies to concentrate themselves rapidly along the
line of action which had been carefully predetermined upon.
Landing almost simultaneously at Southampton, Portsmouth, Shoreham,
Newhaven, Hastings, Folkestone, Dover, Deal, Ramsgate, and Margate,
they had been joined everywhere by their comrades of the British
Section, whose first action, on receiving the signal from the sky,
had been to seize the railways and shoot down, without warning or
mercy, every soldier of the League who opposed them.
What had happened at Harwich had at the same time and in the same
fashion happened at Dover and Chatham. The troops in occupation had
been caught and crushed at a blow between overwhelming forces in
front and rear. Added to this, the International was immensely
stronger in France and Italy than in Russia, and therefore the
defections from the ranks of the League had been far greater than
they had been in the north.
Tens of thousands had donned the red ribbon as the Signal flashed
over their encampments, and when the moment came to repel the assault
of the mysterious grey legions that had sprung from no one knew
where, the bewildered French and Italian officers found their
regiments automatically splitting up into squads of tens and
companies of hundreds, obeying other orders, and joining in the
slaughter of their former comrades with the most perfect _sang
froid_. By daybreak on the 6th the various divisions of the
Federationists were well on their way to the French and Italian
positions to the south of London. The utmost precautions had been
taken to prevent any news reaching headquarters, and these, as has
been seen, were almost entirely successful.
The three army corps sent southward by General le Gallifet met with a
ruinous disaster long before they came face to face with the enemy.
Ten of the fleet of thirty war-balloons which had been sent to
co-operate with them, had been manned and commanded by men of the
International. They were of the newest type and the swiftest in the
fleet, and their crews were armed with the strangest weapons that had
yet been used in the war. These were bows and arrows, a curious
anachronism amidst the elaborate machinery of destruction evolved by
the science of the twentieth century, but none the less effective on
that account. The arrows, instead of being headed in the usual way,
carried on the end of the shaft two little glass tubes full of
liquid, bound together, and tipped with fulminate.
When the fleet had been in the air about an hour these ten aerostats
had so distributed themselves that each of them, with a little
manoeuvring, could get within bowshot of two others. They also rose a
little higher than the rest. The flutter of a white handkerchief was
the signal agreed upon, and when this was given by the man in command
of the ten, each of them suddenly put on speed, and ran up close to
her nearest neighbour. A flight of arrows was discharged at the
gas-holder, and then she headed away for the next nearest, and
discharged a flight at her.
Considering the apparent insignificance of the means employed, the
effects were absolutely miraculous. The explosion of the fulminate on
striking either the hard cordage of the net or one of the steel ribs
used to give the gas-holder rigidity, broke the two tubes full of
liquid. Then came another far more violent explosion, which tore
great rents in the envelope. The imprisoned gas rushed out in
torrents, and the crippled balloons began to sink, at first slowly,
and then more and more rapidly, till the cars, weighted with crews,
machinery, and explosives, struck the earth with a crash, and
exploded, like so many huge shells, amidst the dense columns of the
advancing army corps. In fifteen minutes each of the ten captured
aerostats had sent two others to the earth, and then, completely
masters of the position, those in charge of them began their assault
on the helpless masses below them. This was kept up until the
Federation troops appeared. Then they retired to the rear of the
French and Italian columns, and devoted themselves to burning their
stores and blowing up their ammunition trains with fire-shell.
Assailed thus in front and rear, and demoralised by the defection of
the thousands who, as soon as the battle became general, showed the
red ribbon and echoed the fierce battle-cry of the Federation, the
splendid force sent out by General le Gallifet was practically
annihilated by midnight, and by daybreak the Federationists, after
fifteen hours of almost continuous fighting, had stormed all the
outer positions held by the French and Italians to the south of
London, the batteries of which had already been destroyed by the
air-ships.
Thus, when the _Ithuriel_ passed over London on the morning of the
7th the position of affairs was as follows: The two armies which had
been detached by the Tsar and General le Gallifet to stop the advance
of the Federationists had been destroyed almost to a man. Of the two
fleets of war-balloons there remained twenty-two aerostats in the
hands of the Terrorists, while the twenty-five sent by the Tsar
against the air-ships had retired at nightfall to the depot at
Muswell Hill to replenish their stock of fuel and explosives. Their
ammunition-tenders, slow and unwieldy machines, adapted only for
carrying large cargoes of shells, had been rammed and destroyed with
ease by the air-ships during the running, or rather flying, fight of
the previous afternoon.
At sunset on the 6th the whole available forces of the League which
could be spared from the defence of the positions, numbering more
than three million men, had descended to the assault on London at
nearly fifty different points.
No human words could convey any adequate conception of that night of
carnage and terror. The assailants were allowed to advance far into
the mighty maze of streets and byways with so little resistance, that
they began to think that the great city would fall an easy prey to
them after all. But as they approached the main arteries of central
London they came suddenly upon barricades so skilfully disposed that
it was impossible to advance without storming them, and from which,
as they approached them, burst out tempests of rifle and machine
gunfire, under which the heads of their columns melted away faster
than they advanced.
Light, quick-firing guns, posted on the roofs of lofty buildings,
rained death and mutilation upon them. The air-ships, flying hither
and thither a few hundred feet above the house-tops, like spirits of
destruction, sent their shells into their crowded masses and wrought
the most awful havoc of all with their frightful explosives, blowing
hundreds of men to indistinguishable fragments at every shot, while
from the windows of every house that was not in ruins came a
ceaseless hail of missiles from every kind of firearm, from a
magazine rifle to a shot-gun.
When morning came the Great Eastern Railway and the Thames had been
cleared and opened, and the hearts of the starving citizens were
gladdened by the welcome spectacle of train after train pouring in
laden with provisions from Harwich, and of a fleet of steamers,
flying the Federation flag, which filled the Thames below London
Bridge, and was rapidly discharging its cargoes of food at the
wharves and into lighters.
As fast as the food could be unloaded it was distributed first to the
troops manning the barricades, and then to the markets and shops,
whence it was supplied free in the poorer districts, and at the usual
prices in the richer ones. All that day London feasted and made
merry, for now the Thames was open there seemed to be no end to the
food that was being poured into the city which twelve hours before
had eaten its last scanty provisions. As soon as one vessel was
discharged another took its place, and opened its hold filled with
the necessaries and some of the luxuries of life.
The frightful butcheries at the barricades had stopped for the time
being from sheer exhaustion on both sides. One cannot fight without
food, and the defenders were half-starved when they began. Rage and
the longing for revenge had lent them strength for the moment, but
twelve hours of incessant street fighting, the most wearing of all
forms of battle, had exhausted them, and they were heartily glad of
the tacit truce which gave them time to eat and drink.
As for the assailants, as soon as they saw conclusive proof that the
blockade had been broken and the city victualled, they found
themselves deserted by the ally on whose aid they had most counted.
While the grip of famine remained on London they knew that its fall
was only a matter of time; but now--if food could get in so could
reinforcements, and they had not the remotest idea as to the number
of the mysterious forces which had so suddenly sprung into existence
outside their own lines.
Added to this their losses during the night had been something
appalling. The streets were choked with their dead, and the houses
into which they had retired were filled with their wounded. So they,
too, were glad of a rest, and many spoke openly of returning to their
lines and abandoning the assault. If they did so it might be possible
to fight their way to the coast, and escape out of this huge
death-trap into which they had fallen on the very eve of their
confidently-anticipated victory.
So, during the whole of the 7th there was little or no hard fighting
in London, but to the north and south the grey legions of the
Federation fought their way mile by mile over the field of
Armageddon, gradually driving in the two halves of the Russian and
the Franco-Italian armies which had been faced about to oppose their
progress while the other halves were making their assault on London.
As soon as news reached the Tsar that the blockade of the river had
been broken, he had ordered twelve of his remaining war-balloons to
destroy the ships that were swarming below London Bridge. Their fuel
and cargoes of explosives had been renewed, and they rose into the
air to execute the Autocrat's command just as Natasha had taken leave
of Arnold on her errand of mercy. He fathomed their design at once,
swung the _Ithuriel_ rapidly round to the northward, and said to his
lieutenant, who had just come on deck--
"Mr. Marston, those fellows mean mischief. Put a three-minute time
fuze on a couple of No. 3 fire-shell, and load the bow guns."
The order was at once executed. He trained one of the guns himself,
giving it an elevation sufficient to throw the shell over the rising
balloons. As the sixtieth second of the first minute passed, he
released the projectile. It soared away through the air, and burst
with a terrific explosion about fifty feet over the ascending
aerostats.
The rain of fire spread out far and wide, and showered down upon the
gas-holders. Then came a concussion that shook the air like a
thunder-clap as the escaping gas mixed with the air, took fire, and
exploded. Seven of the twelve aerostats instantly collapsed and
plunged back again to the earth, spending the collective force of
their explosives on the slopes of Muswell Hill. Meanwhile the second
gun had been loaded and fired with the same effect on the remaining
five.
Arnold then ran the _Ithuriel_ up to within a mile of Muswell Hill,
and found the remaining thirteen war-balloons in the act of making
off to the northward.
"Two more time-shells, quick!" he cried. "They are off to take part
in the battle to the north, and must be stopped at once. Look lively,
or they'll see us and rise out of range!"
Almost before the words were out of his mouth one of the guns was
ready. A moment later the messenger of destruction was speeding on
its way, and they saw it explode fairly in the midst of the squadron.
The second followed before the glare of the first explosion had
passed, and this was the last shot fired in the aërial warfare
between the air-ships and the war-balloons.
[Illustration: "The rain of fire spread out far and wide."
_See page 344._]
The effects of these two shots were most extraordinary. The
accurately-timed shells burst, not over, but amidst the aerostats,
enveloping their cars in a momentary mist of fire. The intense heat
evolved must have suffocated their crews instantaneously. Even if it
had not done so their fate would have been scarcely less sudden or
terrible, for the fire falling in the cars exploded their own shells
even before it burst their gas-envelopes. With a roar and a shock as
though heaven and earth were coming together, a vast dazzling mass of
flame blazed out, darkening the daylight by contrast, and when it
vanished again there was not a fragment of the thirteen aerostats to
be seen.
"So ends the Tsar's brief empire of the air!" said Arnold, as the
smoke of the explosion drifted away. "And twenty-four hours more
should see the end of his earthly Empire as well."
"I hope so," said Natasha's voice at his elbow. "This awful
destruction is sickening me. I knew war was horrible, but this is
more like the work of fiends than of men. There is something
monstrous, something superhumanly impious, in blasting your
fellow-creatures with irresistible lightnings like this, as though
you were a god instead of a man. Will you not be glad when it is
over, Richard?"
"Glad beyond all expression," replied her lover, the angry light of
battle instantly dying out of his eyes as he looked upon her sweetly
pitiful face. "But tell me, what success has my angel of mercy had in
pleading for the lives of her enemies?" he continued, slipping his
arm through hers, and leading her aft.
"I don't know yet, but my father told me to ask you to go to him as
soon as you could leave the deck. Go now, and, Richard, remember what
I said to you when you offered me the empire of the world as we were
going to Aeria. No one has such influence with the Master as you
have, for you have given him the victory and delivered his enemies
into his hands. For my sake, and for Humanity's, let your voice be
for mercy and peace--surely we have shed blood enough now!"
"It shall, angel mine! For your sweet sake I would spare even
Alexander Romanoff himself and all his Staff."
"You will never be asked to do that," said Natasha quietly, as Arnold
disappeared down the companion-way.
It was nearly an hour before he came on deck again, and by this time
the _Ithuriel_, constantly moving to and fro over London, so that any
change in the course of events could be at once reported to Natas,
had shifted her position to the southward, and was hanging in the air
over Sydenham Hill, the headquarters of General le Gallifet, whence
could be plainly heard the roar of the tide of battle as it rolled
ever northward over the hills of Surrey.
An air-ship came speeding up from the southward as he reached the
deck. He signalled to it to come alongside. It proved to be the
_Mercury_ taking a message from Tremayne, who was personally
commanding the Army of the South in the _Ariel_, to the air-ships
operating with the Army of the North.
"What is the message?" asked Arnold.
"To engage and destroy the remaining Russian war-balloons, and then
come south at once," replied the captain of the _Mercury_. "I am
sorry to say both the _Lucifer_ and the _Azrael_ have been disabled
by chance shots striking their propellers. The _Lucifer_ was so badly
injured that she fell to the earth, and blew up with a perfectly
awful explosion; but the _Azrael_ can still use her fan-wheels and
stern propeller, though her air-planes are badly broken and twisted."
Arnold frowned at the bad news, but took no further notice of it
beyond saying--
"That is unfortunate; but, I suppose, some casualties were inevitable
under the circumstances." Then he added: "I have already destroyed
all that were left of the Tsar's war-balloons, but you can take the
other part of the message. Where is the _Ariel_ to be found?"
The captain of the _Mercury_ gave him the necessary directions, and
the two air-ships parted. Within an hour a council of war, consisting
of Natas, Arnold, and Tremayne, was being held in the saloon of the
_Ithuriel_, on the issue of which the lives of more than two millions
of men depended.