Chapter Twenty One.Roseye’s Secret.Old Theed, the stalwart ex-police officer, was greatly excited.“Just before half-past eight, my son having gone in the car over to Horsham to see his young lady, and afterwards to pick up Mr Ashton, I was sitting in the kitchen with Mulliner,” he said. “Suddenly I thought I heard footsteps out in the yard. I listened for a few moments and then I heard, quite distinctly, a curious sawing noise. I went silently out by the front door and was just creeping round the corner of the house, when the figure of a man—who was evidently on the watch—suddenly sprang from the shadow. I was seized by the collar, and the next I knew was that a handkerchief was stuffed into my mouth and a rope tied round my arms and legs. I tried to cry out, but I could not. I was trussed like a fowl. My assailants were two men, and pretty tough ones they were, too!”“Mulliner was in the house—eh?” asked Roseye.“Yes, miss. They flung me down into the garden yonder, up against those rose-bushes, and then went into the house after her,” Theed went on. “I heard her scream, but could not move to assist her. She shouted for help, but I couldn’t answer. But she was plucky and she saved the situation.”“How?” I asked, amazed.“Why, she shouted out to me: ‘It’s all right, Theed! I’ve telephoned down to Nutley. The police will soon be here!’”“That was certainly a master-stroke, considering that we have no telephone here,” I exclaimed.“No. But it scared the thieves—or whoever they were—for they didn’t wait, but made off in a car which they had waiting down the lane. I heard them hurry away down to the lane, and soon afterwards the car started.”“Who released you?” I asked.“They had tied Mulliner to a chair in the kitchen but, after half an hour, she managed to get free, and came out to find and release me. Then, on going into the yard with a lamp, we found a curious thing. They had evidently been examining your aeroplane, sir.”“They’ve been in there!” I gasped. “Strangers!”“Yes, sir. But, as far as I can see, they’ve done nothing.”I at once took one of the side-lamps from the car and, with Roseye, went into the barn. Mulliner, who had now recovered from her fright, followed us.As far as I could discern by a cursory glance, nothing had been tampered with. It was fortunate, however, that we had removed the box containing the secret electrical apparatus, and that it was concealed in the house, as was our constant habit.The story told by the pair was certainly alarming.Once again I recognised here the evil finger-prints of the Invisible Hand.“You saw the men who attacked you?” Roseye said to Mulliner when we were again in the house. “Describe them to us.”“Well, miss. There’s the difficulty. There were two men, I know, as well as a woman—a tallish woman, dressed in a fur-coat and a small motor-hat. She had a thin, dark-looking face and funny eyes, and she spoke to the men in some foreign language—Italian, I think.”“Ah!” gasped Roseye, turning to me terrified. “The woman! I feared it—I knew it! The woman with the Leopard’s Eyes!”“And the men?” I asked. “Did you not see them?”“I only caught a glimpse of one of them,” and the description she gave of him almost tallied with that of the man whom we had seen in the woman’s company at the roadside. The pair had evidently been on the watch ever since afternoon. They no doubt had seen us leave, and also watched Teddy and Theed’s son go away.“But the second man?” I demanded eagerly. “Can’t you give us any description of him?”The maid hesitated, and fidgeted slightly. I saw that she was undecided and a little unwilling. Her hair was still awry from her attack, and she had forgotten, in her excitement, to replace her well-starched Dutch-cap.“Well, sir,” she answered at last, “I have a suspicion—but only a very faint one—remember I couldn’t really see his face, for he sprang upon me from behind. But he spoke to his companion, and I thought I recognised his voice—only a faint suspicion,” the woman added. “Indeed, I don’t really like mentioning it, because I’m sure you’ll laugh at me. You’ll think it too absurd.”“No. This is no laughing matter, Mulliner,” I said. “We are in deadly earnest. It is only right of you to tell us any suspicion that you entertain.”“Well—to tell you the truth, sir, I thought I recognised the voice of a gentleman who often visits Cadogan Gardens—Mr Eastwell.”“Eastwell!” I echoed. “Do you really think it was actually Mr Eastwell?”I glanced at Roseye and saw that, at mention of the man’s name, her face had instantly gone pale as death, and her hands were trembling.“Are you quite sure of that, Mulliner?” she asked breathlessly.“No. Not quite. I only know that he wore a big pair of motor-goggles with flaps on the cheeks, and those effectively altered his appearance, but as he assisted in tying me up in the chair, my eyes caught sight of his watch-chain. It was familiar to me—one of alternate twisted links of gold and platinum of quite uncommon pattern. This I recognised as Mr Eastwell’s, for I had seen it many times before, and it went far to confirm my suspicion that the voice was undoubtedly his. I admit, miss, that I was staggered at the discovery.”I led Roseye into the best room and, having closed the door, stood before her in front of the log fire and asked:“Now what is your opinion, dear? Has Lionel Eastwell been here to-night, do you really think?” Her pale lips compressed, and her eyes narrowed at my words. I saw that she was unnerved and trembling.“Yes,” she whispered at last. “Yes—Claude—I believe he has been here!”“Then he’s not our friend, as we have so foolishly believed—eh?”She drew a long breath, and gazed about the room as though utterly mystified.“I—I never suspected this!” was her low reply. “But—”“But what? Tell me, darling. Do tell me,” I begged.“But he may be acting in conjunction with that woman in some desperate plot against us!”“I believe he is,” I declared. “I believe that whatever has happened to you, and my accident also, are both the result of cunning and dastardly plots directed by this man who has so long posed as our friend. Have you never suspected it?” I asked of her.“Never—until to-night,” was her reply. “But if he has dared to come here in order to assist that woman, then his action places an entirely fresh complexion upon the whole affair.”“My opinion is that Lionel Eastwell has, all along, suspected that we have perfected our invention, and has formed a most clever and desperate plot to possess himself of our secret, in order to transmit it to Germany,” I declared, as I held her hand tenderly in mine.“Yes,” she replied, sighing after a pause. “Your surmise may be correct, Claude.”“But do you share my views?”“Well—” she responded at last, “yes, Claude—I do! But,” she added, “the whole affair is too mystifying—too utterly amazing. When, one day, I can tell you what happened to me you will, I know, stand aghast. Ah! when I think of it all,” she cried hoarsely, “I often regard it as a miracle that I am alive and at your side again—at the side of the man I love!”More than this she refused to tell me.I had, at last, established that the hand of Lionel Eastwell, the popular pilot at Hendon, was the hand of the enemy. I had suspected it, but here was proof!His association with the mysterious woman was, of course, still an enigma, but I saw that Roseye herself held the key to it, and now that we had agreed that Eastwell was playing us both false, I hoped that this, in itself, would induce her to tell me the frank and open truth.When Teddy returned he heard from my lips what had happened during our absence, and he stood speechless.“Let’s run the dynamo, light up, and examine the machine,” he suggested, and though it was already midnight we readily adopted his suggestion.That it had again been tampered with I felt no doubt.That statement of old Theed’s that he had heard “sawing” made it plain that some devil’s work had been done—and by Eastwell no doubt, because he was an expert in aviation. The expert knows exactly the point at which he can weaken the strongest aeroplane.Well, we soon ran the dynamo, and had a good light going, one that was almost too glaring in that confined space. All of us were present, including the maid Mulliner, as slowly we examined and tested, piece by piece, every bolt, nut, strainer, and indeed every part of the machine.It was past three o’clock in the morning ere we finished, yet we could find absolutely nothing wrong. The engines worked well: the dynamo was in order, the intensified current for the working of the invisible wave was up to the high voltage as before, and as far as we could discover the machine had not been tampered with in any way.“They intended to investigate the secrets of the box,” Teddy remarked. “No doubt that’s what they were after.”“Well—they didn’t see very much!” I laughed, for already I had been up to the locked attic to which we had carried it on the previous night, and found it there with the door still secure.Then, having satisfied ourselves that no damage had been done, we all retired to rest.But sleep did not come to my eyes.Hour after hour I lay awake until the grey dawn, pondering over the events of that night. That a desperate plot of the enemy was afoot against us could not be doubted, and I realised that it would take all our ingenuity and foresight to combat the plans of an unscrupulous enemy well provided with money, and desperate upon a resolve.To go boldly to the authorities and denounce Lionel Eastwell as a spy would avail me nothing. Indeed, there was no actual evidence of it. No more popular man at Hendon, at Brooklands, or at the Royal Automobile Club was there than Eastwell. Yet, was not that popularity, purchased by the ample means at his disposal, and the constant dinners and luncheons which he gave regardless of their cost, proof in itself that he was acting secretly against the interests of Great Britain? Long ago I had suspected that his was the Invisible Hand that sent every secret of our progress in aviation to Germany by way of the United States. He had several American friends to whom I had been introduced, apparently business men who had come over for various reasons, and it was, no doubt, those men who conveyed back to New York secret information which, later on, returned across the Atlantic and was duly docketed in the Intelligence Bureau of the German General Staff at Berlin. Truly the wily Teuton leaves nothing to chance, and has his secret agents in the most unsuspected places.Yet, reflecting as I did in those long wakeful hours, I saw that it was not surprising, and that the enemy would, naturally, have kept a very watchful eye upon anyone who had devised a means of fighting Zeppelins, and, if possible, defeat him in his attempt.This thought decided me. I meant, at all hazards, to try my device against an enemy airship, even though I might fail. I had foreseen all the risks of machine-guns mounted upon the top of the latest airship, of the dangers of night-flying, of landing difficulties even if successful, and the hundred and one mishaps which might occur in the excitement and darkness.Indeed, in following a Zeppelin at a high altitude and in clouds, I might very easily be mistaken for an enemy attendant aeroplane, and thus draw the fire of our own anti-aircraft guns. In addition, I held no official position in the anti-aircraft service. As far as the newly-formed Joint Naval and Military Air Committee were concerned, I might be a mere man-in-the-street. Therefore I should be compelled to act upon my own initiative. Indeed, I had already offered my invention to the proper official quarter, but had only received a type-written acknowledgment. I, however, was not surprised, because that Department had, I knew, been flooded by the devices of hot-air cranks.Still, as I lay reflecting, I remembered that we could build 1,700 aeroplanes for the cost of one Dreadnought, and a Zeppelin would cost a good deal less than a destroyer. I did not approve of that shrieking section of the Press which was loudly declaring that we had lost the supremacy in aeroplanes which we possessed at the beginning of the war. That was not a fact. We, of course, had no dirigibles worth the name and, perhaps, we were asking pilots to fly machines inferior to the Fokker. Yet we had brought Fokkers down at the front, and with good experimental work and a speedy policy of construction we should, I believed, soon be far ahead of the Central Powers as far as aircraft was concerned.Those days were dark and perilous days for Britain.That something must be done, every one was agreed. Yet, as I tossed upon my bed in that narrow little room in the obscure farm-house, I knew that within my hand I possessed a great, and yet mysterious power—and that power I intended to use and prove at the earliest opportunity.Still I had to reckon with enemies; cool, clever, cunning persons who would hesitate at nothing in order to nullify my efforts, and wreck my machine and all my hopes.Ah! If only Roseye, my well-beloved, would reveal to me the truth.Why did she so persistently refuse?Why? I wondered why?
Old Theed, the stalwart ex-police officer, was greatly excited.
“Just before half-past eight, my son having gone in the car over to Horsham to see his young lady, and afterwards to pick up Mr Ashton, I was sitting in the kitchen with Mulliner,” he said. “Suddenly I thought I heard footsteps out in the yard. I listened for a few moments and then I heard, quite distinctly, a curious sawing noise. I went silently out by the front door and was just creeping round the corner of the house, when the figure of a man—who was evidently on the watch—suddenly sprang from the shadow. I was seized by the collar, and the next I knew was that a handkerchief was stuffed into my mouth and a rope tied round my arms and legs. I tried to cry out, but I could not. I was trussed like a fowl. My assailants were two men, and pretty tough ones they were, too!”
“Mulliner was in the house—eh?” asked Roseye.
“Yes, miss. They flung me down into the garden yonder, up against those rose-bushes, and then went into the house after her,” Theed went on. “I heard her scream, but could not move to assist her. She shouted for help, but I couldn’t answer. But she was plucky and she saved the situation.”
“How?” I asked, amazed.
“Why, she shouted out to me: ‘It’s all right, Theed! I’ve telephoned down to Nutley. The police will soon be here!’”
“That was certainly a master-stroke, considering that we have no telephone here,” I exclaimed.
“No. But it scared the thieves—or whoever they were—for they didn’t wait, but made off in a car which they had waiting down the lane. I heard them hurry away down to the lane, and soon afterwards the car started.”
“Who released you?” I asked.
“They had tied Mulliner to a chair in the kitchen but, after half an hour, she managed to get free, and came out to find and release me. Then, on going into the yard with a lamp, we found a curious thing. They had evidently been examining your aeroplane, sir.”
“They’ve been in there!” I gasped. “Strangers!”
“Yes, sir. But, as far as I can see, they’ve done nothing.”
I at once took one of the side-lamps from the car and, with Roseye, went into the barn. Mulliner, who had now recovered from her fright, followed us.
As far as I could discern by a cursory glance, nothing had been tampered with. It was fortunate, however, that we had removed the box containing the secret electrical apparatus, and that it was concealed in the house, as was our constant habit.
The story told by the pair was certainly alarming.
Once again I recognised here the evil finger-prints of the Invisible Hand.
“You saw the men who attacked you?” Roseye said to Mulliner when we were again in the house. “Describe them to us.”
“Well, miss. There’s the difficulty. There were two men, I know, as well as a woman—a tallish woman, dressed in a fur-coat and a small motor-hat. She had a thin, dark-looking face and funny eyes, and she spoke to the men in some foreign language—Italian, I think.”
“Ah!” gasped Roseye, turning to me terrified. “The woman! I feared it—I knew it! The woman with the Leopard’s Eyes!”
“And the men?” I asked. “Did you not see them?”
“I only caught a glimpse of one of them,” and the description she gave of him almost tallied with that of the man whom we had seen in the woman’s company at the roadside. The pair had evidently been on the watch ever since afternoon. They no doubt had seen us leave, and also watched Teddy and Theed’s son go away.
“But the second man?” I demanded eagerly. “Can’t you give us any description of him?”
The maid hesitated, and fidgeted slightly. I saw that she was undecided and a little unwilling. Her hair was still awry from her attack, and she had forgotten, in her excitement, to replace her well-starched Dutch-cap.
“Well, sir,” she answered at last, “I have a suspicion—but only a very faint one—remember I couldn’t really see his face, for he sprang upon me from behind. But he spoke to his companion, and I thought I recognised his voice—only a faint suspicion,” the woman added. “Indeed, I don’t really like mentioning it, because I’m sure you’ll laugh at me. You’ll think it too absurd.”
“No. This is no laughing matter, Mulliner,” I said. “We are in deadly earnest. It is only right of you to tell us any suspicion that you entertain.”
“Well—to tell you the truth, sir, I thought I recognised the voice of a gentleman who often visits Cadogan Gardens—Mr Eastwell.”
“Eastwell!” I echoed. “Do you really think it was actually Mr Eastwell?”
I glanced at Roseye and saw that, at mention of the man’s name, her face had instantly gone pale as death, and her hands were trembling.
“Are you quite sure of that, Mulliner?” she asked breathlessly.
“No. Not quite. I only know that he wore a big pair of motor-goggles with flaps on the cheeks, and those effectively altered his appearance, but as he assisted in tying me up in the chair, my eyes caught sight of his watch-chain. It was familiar to me—one of alternate twisted links of gold and platinum of quite uncommon pattern. This I recognised as Mr Eastwell’s, for I had seen it many times before, and it went far to confirm my suspicion that the voice was undoubtedly his. I admit, miss, that I was staggered at the discovery.”
I led Roseye into the best room and, having closed the door, stood before her in front of the log fire and asked:
“Now what is your opinion, dear? Has Lionel Eastwell been here to-night, do you really think?” Her pale lips compressed, and her eyes narrowed at my words. I saw that she was unnerved and trembling.
“Yes,” she whispered at last. “Yes—Claude—I believe he has been here!”
“Then he’s not our friend, as we have so foolishly believed—eh?”
She drew a long breath, and gazed about the room as though utterly mystified.
“I—I never suspected this!” was her low reply. “But—”
“But what? Tell me, darling. Do tell me,” I begged.
“But he may be acting in conjunction with that woman in some desperate plot against us!”
“I believe he is,” I declared. “I believe that whatever has happened to you, and my accident also, are both the result of cunning and dastardly plots directed by this man who has so long posed as our friend. Have you never suspected it?” I asked of her.
“Never—until to-night,” was her reply. “But if he has dared to come here in order to assist that woman, then his action places an entirely fresh complexion upon the whole affair.”
“My opinion is that Lionel Eastwell has, all along, suspected that we have perfected our invention, and has formed a most clever and desperate plot to possess himself of our secret, in order to transmit it to Germany,” I declared, as I held her hand tenderly in mine.
“Yes,” she replied, sighing after a pause. “Your surmise may be correct, Claude.”
“But do you share my views?”
“Well—” she responded at last, “yes, Claude—I do! But,” she added, “the whole affair is too mystifying—too utterly amazing. When, one day, I can tell you what happened to me you will, I know, stand aghast. Ah! when I think of it all,” she cried hoarsely, “I often regard it as a miracle that I am alive and at your side again—at the side of the man I love!”
More than this she refused to tell me.
I had, at last, established that the hand of Lionel Eastwell, the popular pilot at Hendon, was the hand of the enemy. I had suspected it, but here was proof!
His association with the mysterious woman was, of course, still an enigma, but I saw that Roseye herself held the key to it, and now that we had agreed that Eastwell was playing us both false, I hoped that this, in itself, would induce her to tell me the frank and open truth.
When Teddy returned he heard from my lips what had happened during our absence, and he stood speechless.
“Let’s run the dynamo, light up, and examine the machine,” he suggested, and though it was already midnight we readily adopted his suggestion.
That it had again been tampered with I felt no doubt.
That statement of old Theed’s that he had heard “sawing” made it plain that some devil’s work had been done—and by Eastwell no doubt, because he was an expert in aviation. The expert knows exactly the point at which he can weaken the strongest aeroplane.
Well, we soon ran the dynamo, and had a good light going, one that was almost too glaring in that confined space. All of us were present, including the maid Mulliner, as slowly we examined and tested, piece by piece, every bolt, nut, strainer, and indeed every part of the machine.
It was past three o’clock in the morning ere we finished, yet we could find absolutely nothing wrong. The engines worked well: the dynamo was in order, the intensified current for the working of the invisible wave was up to the high voltage as before, and as far as we could discover the machine had not been tampered with in any way.
“They intended to investigate the secrets of the box,” Teddy remarked. “No doubt that’s what they were after.”
“Well—they didn’t see very much!” I laughed, for already I had been up to the locked attic to which we had carried it on the previous night, and found it there with the door still secure.
Then, having satisfied ourselves that no damage had been done, we all retired to rest.
But sleep did not come to my eyes.
Hour after hour I lay awake until the grey dawn, pondering over the events of that night. That a desperate plot of the enemy was afoot against us could not be doubted, and I realised that it would take all our ingenuity and foresight to combat the plans of an unscrupulous enemy well provided with money, and desperate upon a resolve.
To go boldly to the authorities and denounce Lionel Eastwell as a spy would avail me nothing. Indeed, there was no actual evidence of it. No more popular man at Hendon, at Brooklands, or at the Royal Automobile Club was there than Eastwell. Yet, was not that popularity, purchased by the ample means at his disposal, and the constant dinners and luncheons which he gave regardless of their cost, proof in itself that he was acting secretly against the interests of Great Britain? Long ago I had suspected that his was the Invisible Hand that sent every secret of our progress in aviation to Germany by way of the United States. He had several American friends to whom I had been introduced, apparently business men who had come over for various reasons, and it was, no doubt, those men who conveyed back to New York secret information which, later on, returned across the Atlantic and was duly docketed in the Intelligence Bureau of the German General Staff at Berlin. Truly the wily Teuton leaves nothing to chance, and has his secret agents in the most unsuspected places.
Yet, reflecting as I did in those long wakeful hours, I saw that it was not surprising, and that the enemy would, naturally, have kept a very watchful eye upon anyone who had devised a means of fighting Zeppelins, and, if possible, defeat him in his attempt.
This thought decided me. I meant, at all hazards, to try my device against an enemy airship, even though I might fail. I had foreseen all the risks of machine-guns mounted upon the top of the latest airship, of the dangers of night-flying, of landing difficulties even if successful, and the hundred and one mishaps which might occur in the excitement and darkness.
Indeed, in following a Zeppelin at a high altitude and in clouds, I might very easily be mistaken for an enemy attendant aeroplane, and thus draw the fire of our own anti-aircraft guns. In addition, I held no official position in the anti-aircraft service. As far as the newly-formed Joint Naval and Military Air Committee were concerned, I might be a mere man-in-the-street. Therefore I should be compelled to act upon my own initiative. Indeed, I had already offered my invention to the proper official quarter, but had only received a type-written acknowledgment. I, however, was not surprised, because that Department had, I knew, been flooded by the devices of hot-air cranks.
Still, as I lay reflecting, I remembered that we could build 1,700 aeroplanes for the cost of one Dreadnought, and a Zeppelin would cost a good deal less than a destroyer. I did not approve of that shrieking section of the Press which was loudly declaring that we had lost the supremacy in aeroplanes which we possessed at the beginning of the war. That was not a fact. We, of course, had no dirigibles worth the name and, perhaps, we were asking pilots to fly machines inferior to the Fokker. Yet we had brought Fokkers down at the front, and with good experimental work and a speedy policy of construction we should, I believed, soon be far ahead of the Central Powers as far as aircraft was concerned.
Those days were dark and perilous days for Britain.
That something must be done, every one was agreed. Yet, as I tossed upon my bed in that narrow little room in the obscure farm-house, I knew that within my hand I possessed a great, and yet mysterious power—and that power I intended to use and prove at the earliest opportunity.
Still I had to reckon with enemies; cool, clever, cunning persons who would hesitate at nothing in order to nullify my efforts, and wreck my machine and all my hopes.
Ah! If only Roseye, my well-beloved, would reveal to me the truth.
Why did she so persistently refuse?
Why? I wondered why?
Chapter Twenty Two.More Devil’s Work.Next day I decided that, in view of the fact that our enemies had traced us, it would be best to at once remove our headquarters. Further, in order to attack a Zeppelin, as I intended, we ought to station ourselves upon the line of their advance from the East Coast towards London, and somewhere in proximity to an anti-aircraft listening-post.All three of us held council and decided that, as I knew of a listening-post in East Anglia, I should fly the machine to that neighbourhood, rather than dismantle it and take it by road. It was arranged that Teddy should accompany me, and that Theed should drive Roseye, Mulliner and his father in the car. By this rapid and unexpected flight we hoped to at least evade the unwelcome attentions of that mysterious woman whom Roseye described as having leopard’s eyes.Experience had taught us that in the Zeppelin raids upon England the airships generally approached by crossing the coast-line between Lowestoft and Margate, therefore I decided upon a district that would be the centre of a danger-zone.Having studied my map I saw that my most direct route would be over Tonbridge, thence by the railway line to Sevenoaks, and then north-east till I could pick up Gravesend—which would be easy on account of the river Thames—and afterwards due north would bring me to G—, which would be easily distinguishable by certain landmarks.We had wheeled out the machine, and I was tuning her up before starting, both Teddy and I ready in our air-clothes, when Theed, who was giving the machine a final look round, suddenly gave vent to an ejaculation of dismay.“Why look, sir!” he cried. “What’s this?”I hopped quickly out of the pilot’s seat and, joining him, saw to my surprise that, beneath the wooden petrol-tank a fine insulated twin-wire had been, placed, and upon it, tacked lightly to the wood, was a small disc of some black-looking material through which the fine wire ran.In breathless eagerness I traced the wire and, to my horror, saw what a devilish contrivance it was. The twin-wire had been connected up to the battery that ran the lamp over my map and instruments, therefore had I switched on the light at night, it would have failed, for it was intended that the current should ignite that little disc of inflammable material and explode my petrol-tank behind me!Truly, the device of those crafty and subtle enemies was a devilish one. That wire had been connected up by an Invisible Hand—by the hand of one who certainly knew the most vulnerable point of the machine.Teddy and Roseye both stood aghast at this latest revelation.Then, when I had disconnected the wire, I placed it with the little black incendiary disc upon the ground and connected up the wires to an accumulator from the car.In a moment the black substance shot into a fierce red flame which burned and spluttered with intense heat for fully five minutes.From the barn, a few minutes later, Theed emerged carrying a piece of the wire, evidently discarded by the intruder who had so swiftly and so cunningly prepared another death-trap for me.A further hour we spent in making a second examination of the machine, and then having appointed to meet that evening at the old King’s Head, in G—, at seven o’clock, I climbed into the pilot’s seat and, with Teddy at my side, we shot forward and soon left the ground heading for the railway line which I knew would run from right to left across our track at Tonbridge.I was really glad to place Holly Farm behind me. It certainly was not a “healthy” spot, as far as we were concerned. The low-down cunning of our enemies had once more been revealed. Yet how I longed for Roseye to tell me the actual truth! Why did she so persistently refuse? What could she have to hide from me—the man who loved her so very dearly.We trusted each other. She had trusted her life to me in the air on many occasions—even on the previous night. Yet she remained silent.The day was bright and crisp, with a slight north-westerly wind and a few scudding clouds. Very soon, when we had risen to about four thousand feet—for I had determined to fly high again—I saw a big seaplane coming up from the coast. It passed us about four miles distant and then I gave over the dual controls to Teddy, so that he might get used to them ready for the crucial test when it must mean either destruction to a Zeppelin, or to ourselves.Teddy was a first-rate patriot. There was nothing of the milk-and-water type about him, and yet, at the same time, he was nothing of a lady’s man. He was always courteous, humorous, and charming with the fair sex, but he preferred to read and smoke his rather foul briar pipe, than to go out of an evening into the glitter and clatter of London life. But we were friends—firm friends, and he was just as prepared and keen to take the risk as I was.We found Tonbridge quite easily. Below us what looked like a toy-train was puffing along towards Dover, leaving a white streak of steam behind. For a few minutes I made a short circuit over the town in order to find the line that ran across to Sevenoaks, and at last, distinguishing it, I made my way over that rather scattered place and then struck another railway line at a place marked upon the map as Fawkham, after which I soon picked out the shining river with Gravesend on one bank and Tilbury on the other. I glanced at the altimeter. We were 10,500 feet up. Below us all was misty in the valley of the river. Then over the brown land of Essex I sped forward until I again found another railway line at Brentwood and, following it, soon saw my landmark—one which I need not refer to here, for I have no desire to instruct enemy airmen.Nothing extraordinary had met my eye. I was used to the patchwork landscape.Then began a search for a convenient field in which to land.I came down from ten thousand to a thousand feet in long sweeping circles, examining each grass meadow as I went.The lower I came, the more easily could I distinguish the pastures and ploughed land and woods.A train was passing and I noted the direction of the smoke—most important in making a landing. Teddy at my side, as practised as I was myself in flying, had never moved. Through his big goggles he was gazing down, trying to decide upon a landing-place, just as I was.I banked for a moment. Then put her nose down and then, finding no spot attractive, climbed again.I did not want to land too near the town, for I had no desire to attract undue attention.I was trying to find a certain main road, for, truth to tell, I had been up very early that morning consulting my maps.On that main road were two or three farms in which I hoped I could shelter my machine, just as I had done at Holly Farm.I suppose we spent perhaps nearly half an hour in the air before, after critical examination, I decided to descend into a large park before a good-sized old Georgian house belonging, no doubt, to some county family.Parks, provided they have few trees, are always desired by the aviator as landing-places.Indeed, as I circled round I could plainly see that several figures, attracted by the heavy, roar of my engine, were standing outside watching us.Two minutes later I brought the machine round to the wind.Down went her nose—down, down. The air screamed about our ears. The earth rushed up to meet us, as it always seems to do. Truth to tell, by my own fault, I had had a nasty nose-dive, but I righted her and, touching the grass, managed to pull up dead.Teddy, who had been watching it all, never turned a hair.Only when I shut off the roar of the engine, he remarked:“By Jove! Devilish good landing! That nose-dive was rather a nasty one, Claude—wasn’t it?”And, unstrapping himself, he hopped out and sought his cigarette-case from his hip-pocket, as was his habit.We were close against the big, rather ugly country house, therefore, leaving the machine, we went up and soon found its owner—a retired colonel of the usual JP type—hard on poachers when on the County Bench, I expect.Still, he welcomed us warmly and was, we found, quite a good sort.I asked him to take us aside, and he conducted us to the library, a fine old-fashioned room lined with brown-backed books.There I told him the truth—of what we were after.“Well,” said the white-haired old man, looking me up and down, “you seem a pretty keen young fellow, and your friend also. If you are over here on such a mission then I hope you will, both of you, consider yourselves my guests. I’ve a big barn beyond the stables where I can garage your machine quite well.”Then I told him of the trio who were on their way to the King’s Head, in G—.“I shall only be too delighted to be their host,” he replied at once. “I know Sir Herbert and Lady Lethmere well, but I don’t believe I’ve ever met their daughter.”Then he introduced his wife, a rather youngly-dressed woman, whose eyes were “made-up” and the artificiality of whose cheeks were just a trifle too transparent. But artificiality seems fashionable to-day.We duly put the machine away into the barn and later, when we sat at tea in the drawing-room, the conversation naturally turned upon Zeppelins.Colonel Cator, for such we had found our host’s name to be, held rather sceptical views regarding the power of aeroplanes to combat airships, and he waxed distinctly humorous as we sat together.“There have been so many fables told us about aircraft,” declared the erect old man, “that one does not really know what to believe.”“There have been a good many improvements recently in aircraft of all sorts, so that most of the pre-war types have been already scrapped,” I said.“Yes, yes, I know,” exclaimed our host. “But what I object is to the fairy-tales that we’ve been told in the past—how we’ve been reassured.”“But does the past really affect the present very much?” I queried.“I contend that it does. We should have been told the truth,” he declared emphatically and, rising, he took from beneath a table a large scrap-book.Then, returning to his chair, he said: “I have here a cutting fromThe Timesof March 20, 1913. I came across it only the other day. Listen—and I’ll read it to you, because it is most illuminating to you airmen.”And then he read to us as follows:—“Colonel Seeley, Secretary of State for War, said yesterday: We have decided that the Army should have smalldirigibleswhich could be packed up inboxes, put in motor-lorries or in ships, and sent wherever they are required. These we have got. These dirigibles, I say without hesitation—and all who understand the matter will agree—are superior to any other kind of portable airship. They have various mechanical advantages, which I do not wish to dwell upon, because those concerned believe the secret is our own, enabling them to rise more rapidly in the air, and enabling them, above all, to avoid having to part with hydrogen when they rise, and therefore there is no need for reinforcing the hydrogen when they fall. They have these advantages, which we believe aresuperior to those of any other nation.”Then, pausing, the colonel raised his eyes to mine, and, with a merry laugh, asked:“Now. What do you think of that for a Ministerial statement eh?”“Perhaps, instead of putting them in boxes, we might have had them put into paper bags, and distributed with pounds of tea?” suggested Teddy. “Why not?”“But I don’t see how it affects the present situation at all,” I argued. “We are surely much wiser now than we were three years ago.”“Well—let’s hope so,” laughed the colonel. “But that speech is full of grim humour—is it not?”And with that we were compelled to agree.
Next day I decided that, in view of the fact that our enemies had traced us, it would be best to at once remove our headquarters. Further, in order to attack a Zeppelin, as I intended, we ought to station ourselves upon the line of their advance from the East Coast towards London, and somewhere in proximity to an anti-aircraft listening-post.
All three of us held council and decided that, as I knew of a listening-post in East Anglia, I should fly the machine to that neighbourhood, rather than dismantle it and take it by road. It was arranged that Teddy should accompany me, and that Theed should drive Roseye, Mulliner and his father in the car. By this rapid and unexpected flight we hoped to at least evade the unwelcome attentions of that mysterious woman whom Roseye described as having leopard’s eyes.
Experience had taught us that in the Zeppelin raids upon England the airships generally approached by crossing the coast-line between Lowestoft and Margate, therefore I decided upon a district that would be the centre of a danger-zone.
Having studied my map I saw that my most direct route would be over Tonbridge, thence by the railway line to Sevenoaks, and then north-east till I could pick up Gravesend—which would be easy on account of the river Thames—and afterwards due north would bring me to G—, which would be easily distinguishable by certain landmarks.
We had wheeled out the machine, and I was tuning her up before starting, both Teddy and I ready in our air-clothes, when Theed, who was giving the machine a final look round, suddenly gave vent to an ejaculation of dismay.
“Why look, sir!” he cried. “What’s this?”
I hopped quickly out of the pilot’s seat and, joining him, saw to my surprise that, beneath the wooden petrol-tank a fine insulated twin-wire had been, placed, and upon it, tacked lightly to the wood, was a small disc of some black-looking material through which the fine wire ran.
In breathless eagerness I traced the wire and, to my horror, saw what a devilish contrivance it was. The twin-wire had been connected up to the battery that ran the lamp over my map and instruments, therefore had I switched on the light at night, it would have failed, for it was intended that the current should ignite that little disc of inflammable material and explode my petrol-tank behind me!
Truly, the device of those crafty and subtle enemies was a devilish one. That wire had been connected up by an Invisible Hand—by the hand of one who certainly knew the most vulnerable point of the machine.
Teddy and Roseye both stood aghast at this latest revelation.
Then, when I had disconnected the wire, I placed it with the little black incendiary disc upon the ground and connected up the wires to an accumulator from the car.
In a moment the black substance shot into a fierce red flame which burned and spluttered with intense heat for fully five minutes.
From the barn, a few minutes later, Theed emerged carrying a piece of the wire, evidently discarded by the intruder who had so swiftly and so cunningly prepared another death-trap for me.
A further hour we spent in making a second examination of the machine, and then having appointed to meet that evening at the old King’s Head, in G—, at seven o’clock, I climbed into the pilot’s seat and, with Teddy at my side, we shot forward and soon left the ground heading for the railway line which I knew would run from right to left across our track at Tonbridge.
I was really glad to place Holly Farm behind me. It certainly was not a “healthy” spot, as far as we were concerned. The low-down cunning of our enemies had once more been revealed. Yet how I longed for Roseye to tell me the actual truth! Why did she so persistently refuse? What could she have to hide from me—the man who loved her so very dearly.
We trusted each other. She had trusted her life to me in the air on many occasions—even on the previous night. Yet she remained silent.
The day was bright and crisp, with a slight north-westerly wind and a few scudding clouds. Very soon, when we had risen to about four thousand feet—for I had determined to fly high again—I saw a big seaplane coming up from the coast. It passed us about four miles distant and then I gave over the dual controls to Teddy, so that he might get used to them ready for the crucial test when it must mean either destruction to a Zeppelin, or to ourselves.
Teddy was a first-rate patriot. There was nothing of the milk-and-water type about him, and yet, at the same time, he was nothing of a lady’s man. He was always courteous, humorous, and charming with the fair sex, but he preferred to read and smoke his rather foul briar pipe, than to go out of an evening into the glitter and clatter of London life. But we were friends—firm friends, and he was just as prepared and keen to take the risk as I was.
We found Tonbridge quite easily. Below us what looked like a toy-train was puffing along towards Dover, leaving a white streak of steam behind. For a few minutes I made a short circuit over the town in order to find the line that ran across to Sevenoaks, and at last, distinguishing it, I made my way over that rather scattered place and then struck another railway line at a place marked upon the map as Fawkham, after which I soon picked out the shining river with Gravesend on one bank and Tilbury on the other. I glanced at the altimeter. We were 10,500 feet up. Below us all was misty in the valley of the river. Then over the brown land of Essex I sped forward until I again found another railway line at Brentwood and, following it, soon saw my landmark—one which I need not refer to here, for I have no desire to instruct enemy airmen.
Nothing extraordinary had met my eye. I was used to the patchwork landscape.
Then began a search for a convenient field in which to land.
I came down from ten thousand to a thousand feet in long sweeping circles, examining each grass meadow as I went.
The lower I came, the more easily could I distinguish the pastures and ploughed land and woods.
A train was passing and I noted the direction of the smoke—most important in making a landing. Teddy at my side, as practised as I was myself in flying, had never moved. Through his big goggles he was gazing down, trying to decide upon a landing-place, just as I was.
I banked for a moment. Then put her nose down and then, finding no spot attractive, climbed again.
I did not want to land too near the town, for I had no desire to attract undue attention.
I was trying to find a certain main road, for, truth to tell, I had been up very early that morning consulting my maps.
On that main road were two or three farms in which I hoped I could shelter my machine, just as I had done at Holly Farm.
I suppose we spent perhaps nearly half an hour in the air before, after critical examination, I decided to descend into a large park before a good-sized old Georgian house belonging, no doubt, to some county family.
Parks, provided they have few trees, are always desired by the aviator as landing-places.
Indeed, as I circled round I could plainly see that several figures, attracted by the heavy, roar of my engine, were standing outside watching us.
Two minutes later I brought the machine round to the wind.
Down went her nose—down, down. The air screamed about our ears. The earth rushed up to meet us, as it always seems to do. Truth to tell, by my own fault, I had had a nasty nose-dive, but I righted her and, touching the grass, managed to pull up dead.
Teddy, who had been watching it all, never turned a hair.
Only when I shut off the roar of the engine, he remarked:
“By Jove! Devilish good landing! That nose-dive was rather a nasty one, Claude—wasn’t it?”
And, unstrapping himself, he hopped out and sought his cigarette-case from his hip-pocket, as was his habit.
We were close against the big, rather ugly country house, therefore, leaving the machine, we went up and soon found its owner—a retired colonel of the usual JP type—hard on poachers when on the County Bench, I expect.
Still, he welcomed us warmly and was, we found, quite a good sort.
I asked him to take us aside, and he conducted us to the library, a fine old-fashioned room lined with brown-backed books.
There I told him the truth—of what we were after.
“Well,” said the white-haired old man, looking me up and down, “you seem a pretty keen young fellow, and your friend also. If you are over here on such a mission then I hope you will, both of you, consider yourselves my guests. I’ve a big barn beyond the stables where I can garage your machine quite well.”
Then I told him of the trio who were on their way to the King’s Head, in G—.
“I shall only be too delighted to be their host,” he replied at once. “I know Sir Herbert and Lady Lethmere well, but I don’t believe I’ve ever met their daughter.”
Then he introduced his wife, a rather youngly-dressed woman, whose eyes were “made-up” and the artificiality of whose cheeks were just a trifle too transparent. But artificiality seems fashionable to-day.
We duly put the machine away into the barn and later, when we sat at tea in the drawing-room, the conversation naturally turned upon Zeppelins.
Colonel Cator, for such we had found our host’s name to be, held rather sceptical views regarding the power of aeroplanes to combat airships, and he waxed distinctly humorous as we sat together.
“There have been so many fables told us about aircraft,” declared the erect old man, “that one does not really know what to believe.”
“There have been a good many improvements recently in aircraft of all sorts, so that most of the pre-war types have been already scrapped,” I said.
“Yes, yes, I know,” exclaimed our host. “But what I object is to the fairy-tales that we’ve been told in the past—how we’ve been reassured.”
“But does the past really affect the present very much?” I queried.
“I contend that it does. We should have been told the truth,” he declared emphatically and, rising, he took from beneath a table a large scrap-book.
Then, returning to his chair, he said: “I have here a cutting fromThe Timesof March 20, 1913. I came across it only the other day. Listen—and I’ll read it to you, because it is most illuminating to you airmen.”
And then he read to us as follows:—
“Colonel Seeley, Secretary of State for War, said yesterday: We have decided that the Army should have smalldirigibleswhich could be packed up inboxes, put in motor-lorries or in ships, and sent wherever they are required. These we have got. These dirigibles, I say without hesitation—and all who understand the matter will agree—are superior to any other kind of portable airship. They have various mechanical advantages, which I do not wish to dwell upon, because those concerned believe the secret is our own, enabling them to rise more rapidly in the air, and enabling them, above all, to avoid having to part with hydrogen when they rise, and therefore there is no need for reinforcing the hydrogen when they fall. They have these advantages, which we believe aresuperior to those of any other nation.”
“Colonel Seeley, Secretary of State for War, said yesterday: We have decided that the Army should have smalldirigibleswhich could be packed up inboxes, put in motor-lorries or in ships, and sent wherever they are required. These we have got. These dirigibles, I say without hesitation—and all who understand the matter will agree—are superior to any other kind of portable airship. They have various mechanical advantages, which I do not wish to dwell upon, because those concerned believe the secret is our own, enabling them to rise more rapidly in the air, and enabling them, above all, to avoid having to part with hydrogen when they rise, and therefore there is no need for reinforcing the hydrogen when they fall. They have these advantages, which we believe aresuperior to those of any other nation.”
Then, pausing, the colonel raised his eyes to mine, and, with a merry laugh, asked:
“Now. What do you think of that for a Ministerial statement eh?”
“Perhaps, instead of putting them in boxes, we might have had them put into paper bags, and distributed with pounds of tea?” suggested Teddy. “Why not?”
“But I don’t see how it affects the present situation at all,” I argued. “We are surely much wiser now than we were three years ago.”
“Well—let’s hope so,” laughed the colonel. “But that speech is full of grim humour—is it not?”
And with that we were compelled to agree.
Chapter Twenty Three.The “L39.”Having taken Colonel and Mrs Cator into our confidence, and they having invited Roseye to stay with them, we were all, on the following day, duly installed at Swalecliffe Park.Without delay I called upon the officer in charge of the listening-post—the whereabouts of which I do not intend to disclose—and, to my joy, found that he was a man named Moncrieff whom I had met many times at Hendon, and also at the club.Having told him of my intention to have a “go” at the next enemy airship that might come over, he readily promised that upon receiving the next alarm, he would make a point of ringing me up at Swalecliffe.Then, with the machine in readiness and already tested and re-tested, and also with a full petrol-tank, there was nothing further to do but to draw it out into the park each night, and await the alarm.It was on the first day of March when we had come down in Swalecliffe Park as strangers—on a Wednesday I remember—and the following days had been fully occupied with our preparations, while throughout each night Teddy and I, ready dressed for flight, sat in the colonel’s study wherein the telephone was installed.Thursday night passed quite uneventfully. During the earlier hours the colonel and Roseye sat with us, but the barometer being low, and the weather gusty, we had, even at ten o’clock, decided that no Zeppelin would risk crossing the North Sea.On Friday night the four of us played bridge till half-past four, the Theeds being, of course, on duty outside. We had the consolation of knowing that, though the Invisible Hand might be searching for us, it had not yet discovered our place of concealment. Each evening we tested the telephone—through the local exchange—out to the listening-post, and each evening Moncrieff, who was in charge, answered cheerily:“Don’t fear, old chap, I’ll give you a ring as soon as anything is going on.”Saturday, the fourth of March, was bright and warm, but just before sunset a sharp easterly breeze sprang up and, with a falling barometer, we knew that our vigilance would remain unrewarded. So again we played bridge until Roseye grew sleepy and then retired. Certainly we did not appear to meet with any luck.On Sunday morning we all went to the pretty little church of Swalecliffe, and in the afternoon I went out for a pleasant stroll with Roseye through the park and leafless woods.Again I pressed her to reveal to me what she knew regarding that mysterious woman who was in association with the fellow Eastwell.But once again she steadfastly declined to reveal anything.“No, no!” she protested. “Please don’t ask me, Claude.”“But surely I have a right to know!” I declared. “Your enemies are mine; and we are fighting them together. We have agreed to marry, Roseye, therefore you may surely trust me with your secret!”I had halted at a stile before crossing our path leading into the wood, and, as I held her hand in mine, I looked straight into her big blue eyes.She drew a long breath, and her gaze wavered. I saw that she now relented, and that she was unable to refute my argument.I pressed her hand and, in a deep, earnest voice, urged:“Tell me darling.Do tell me?”Again her chest heaved and fell beneath her furs.“Well, Claude. It’s—it’s a strange story—as strange as any woman has ever lived to tell,” she said at last, with great hesitation and speaking very slowly. “On that morning when I left I received a letter purporting to come from you, and urging me to meet you in secret on the departure platform of the Great Northern station at King’s Cross. Naturally, much puzzled, I went there, wondering what had happened. While waiting, a woman—the woman you have seen—came up to me and told me that you had sent her—that you wished to see me in secret in connexion with your invention, but that you were in hiding because you feared that some spies intended to obtain knowledge of the truth. She said that there were enemy spies on every hand, and that it would be best to go over to the hotel, and there wait till night before we went North to Grantham, whither you had gone.”“Grantham!” I echoed. “I’ve not been in Grantham for years.”“But I believed that you were there, so plausible was the woman’s story,” she replied. “We left at night, travelling in a first-class compartment together. On the way, I suddenly suspected her. Somehow I did not like the look in those strange eyes of hers, and I accused her of deceiving me. Indeed, while dozing, I had seen her carefully take my chatelaine, put something into it, and drop it out of the window. We were in a tunnel, I believe.”“Then it was that woman who put the cipher-message into your card-case!” I exclaimed. “Yes, go on.”“Yes,” she replied. “I sprang up, and tried to pull the communication-cord as we came out of the tunnel, but she prevented me. She pushed a sponge saturated with some pungent-smelling liquid into my face, and then I knew nothing more until I found myself in a small room in a cottage somewhere remote in the country.”“Then you were detained there—eh?”“Yes. Forcibly. That awful woman tried, by every means in her power, to force or induce me to reveal the details of the experiments which you and Teddy were making at Gunnersbury. But I refused. Ah! how that hell-fiend tortured me day after day!“She nearly drove me mad by those fearful ordeals which, in a hundred ways, she put upon me—always promising to release me if I would but reveal details of what we had discovered. But I refused—refused always, Claude—because I knew that she was an enemy, and victory must be ours if I remained silent. Days—those terrible days—passed—so many that I lost count of them—yet I knew that the woman with the cruel eyes of a leopard had dosed me with some drug that sapped my senses, and she held me irrevocably in her power, prompted no doubt by somebody who meant to work evil also upon you. In the end I must have lost my reason. I think she must have given me certain drugs in order to confuse me as to the past. Then, one day, I found myself in the town of Grantham, inquiring for the station. I was in a maid’s clothes, and in them I eventually returned to you. And you—Claude—you know all the rest.” And she burst into a torrent of tears.“Yes,” I said slowly. “And that blackguard Lionel Eastwell is the man who has directed all this intricate and dastardly intrigue against us.”Then I took my love into my arms, and pressing her to me, soothed her tears with my passionate kisses.What she had revealed to me amazed me.In the evening, just after the Sunday-night supper, Benton, the fat old butler, entered the drawing-room and, approaching me, said:“Mr Moncrieff is on the telephone, sir.”I sprang up with alacrity and, a few seconds later, spoke to my friend at the listening-post.“You there, Munro?” he asked. “We’ve just had a message to say that three Zeppelins are crossing the North Sea in the direction of the Norfolk coast.”“Right!” I said, and shut off at once. There was no time to lose.In a moment I told them of the alarm. Without much delay Teddy and I slipped into our air-kit, while Theed, with the machine wheeled out into the park, reported that all was in readiness.I met Roseye in the corridor above the central staircase of the great old-world house, and there kissed her fondly.“For your dear sake I go, and for the sake of my King and country!” I whispered. “Good-bye, my darling. Keep a stout heart until you hear of me again!”“But—oh!—oh!—I fear, Claude!” she cried anxiously, clinging to me.“No, my darling. We must, to-day, all make sacrifices. There must be no fear. I shall be back with you to-morrow.”And then again I kissed her and disengaged those loving, clinging arms about me.Five minutes later Teddy and I were away in the air.The night was dull and overcast with a promise of clearing—yet bitterly cold.Of course with our big engine roaring we could hear nothing of the enemy’s approach, but I deemed it wise to rise high and, at the same time, to follow the railway line from Colchester towards London, because that, no doubt, was the route which the airships would follow.The alarm had been given, trains being darkened and brought to a standstill, station and signal-lights extinguished and towns blotted out, I quickly lost sight of the railway track and could only go very slowly to save petrol in case of a chase, and guide myself by my compass.From a town somewhere on the coast I could see the long scintillating beams of a searchlight striking across the dark night sky, first directed in one quarter and then in another. I think it must have been the searchlight on the coast at T—.I saw Teddy was busy adjusting the Lewis machine-gun at his side as we climbed rapidly in the pitch darkness. The engine raced and hummed and the wind shrieked weirdly around us.I switched on the bulb over the instruments, in order to look at my altimeter, but so dark was it that the light got into my eyes and I was compelled to shut it off again.I flew in a wide circle at first, steadily climbing until the few faint twinkling lights below had disappeared entirely. We were getting nearer and nearer the Zeppelin altitude.Ah! how the engine throbbed and roared.Suddenly something black shot up close to me, rushing on as quickly as an express train. So suddenly did it rise up against me, that it gave me quite a start. It seemed a great, unholy thing, and quite shapeless.It was another aeroplane, like ourselves, out to destroy the enemy airship with bombs. And by Jove! we narrowly avoided a nasty collision.A second later we heard the loud report of a gun. Our anti-aircraft gunners had spotted their quarry somewhere in the vicinity. A moment afterwards upon our left, straight before us, two long beams of searchlight shot out, and then a sharp volley from the guns.They were possibly five miles distant, and in the direction of London—somewhere near Brentwood I thought.Bang! bang!—bang! we could hear, even above the throb of our powerful engine. Teddy turned on the second engine, and then opened up the searchlight, sweeping it around before us. But we could see nothing save some thin filmy clouds.Suddenly the searchlights from below went out, and the guns ceased. With one eye upon the altimeter I peered over, hoping to pick up some landmark, but I could find absolutely none.That a Zeppelin was in the vicinity was certain. I tried to keep as cool as I possibly could, but I confess that at that moment it was difficult.I cruised about, knowing that I was now nearing the London area.Suddenly, deep below, yet some miles ahead, I saw a blood-red flash. The Zeppelin had dropped a bomb!Again I switched on the little light, and a glance at my altimeter showed that I was up eleven thousand feet, therefore I pushed straight along in the direction of that red glare.That it was an incendiary one I saw, because the flare continued far down in the misty workaday world below.The Zeppelin was executing its evil work upon the harmless civilian inhabitants.I craned and peered around on all sides, but could see nothing else—only the glare from the incendiary fire.The night was rapidly growing brighter, and we could see the stars. Again we heard a violent cannonade, and once more half a dozen beams of searchlights swept the sky from several points evidently much nearer to London. More than once the searchlights picked us up and examined us with suspicion, blinding us with their glare the while.Once more from below there came up two loud detonations—high explosive bombs—yet we could see no Zeppelin, though we peered into the darkness again as soon as the searchlight left us.Blinded by the glare, I had banked a little too steeply, and nearly had another bad nose-dive. Teddy noticed it, and said something, but what it was I could not hear for the roar. That an enemy airship was about, and that it had dropped incendiary bombs was proved by the three or four red glares we could distinctly see beneath us.No doubt the Zeppelin was moving fast, dropping her bombs preparatory to rising and escaping beyond the zone of our anti-aircraft guns. I rose higher, but still no sign of it. Apparently the searchlights, having once located it, had again lost it, for once more all the guns were silent.I began to lose heart. How horribly cold it was!I was now over London, unless I was much mistaken. Several other of our bomb-dropping aeroplanes were circling below me, also unable to find the Zeppelin.Suddenly Teddy gave me a sharp nudge and pointed upward.I glanced in the direction he indicated, and there saw the great long dark hull of the airship hovering quite near us.We were then over eight thousand feet up, and the airship was perhaps another thousand feet higher. I could distinguish its two gondolas, and as we passed near its stern its fins and planes were now plainly silhouetted against the bright, steely sky.With all speed possible I shot upward, but apparently the commander of the Zeppelin had discovered us, while at that very same moment a searchlight from somewhere below picked him up and revealed him, a huge silvery object, upon the side of which was painted in black a large iron-cross, the Hun badge of frightfulness, together with initial and number “L39.”Scarcely had I become aware of the close proximity of the enemy when I saw a little spurt of red flare from the forward gondola. It continued for several moments, and I knew that it was a machine-gun spitting forth its leaden hail upon us.Therefore I drew away and rose still higher, while, next second, the propellers of the monster airship began to whirr and it started away, nose upward and due east, evidently upon its homeward journey.Unfortunately the men manning our searchlights below kept one of their beams upon us as well as another upon the Zeppelin, and I must confess that both Teddy and I, in our excitement, consigned them to a place with an atmosphere slightly warmer than the one we were at that moment experiencing. It seemed as though the anti-aircraft gunners, knowing the airship to be now out of range, were seized by a sudden curiosity to see what we were doing chasing the Zeppelin away as we gradually rose above it.Ah! Shall I ever forget those exciting moments! Time after time the machine-gun on the monster airship fired upon us, but I was flying in such a manner that to hit us would, I knew, be difficult. Yet just then a stray bullet struck one of my planes and went through it, while a second later another tore through the casing of the fuselage.The commander of the Zeppelin thought, no doubt, that our intention was to rise and drop a bomb upon him, and he was now travelling very quickly in order to try and outpace us. In this, however, he did not succeed.How far we travelled I have no idea. In those moments I lost all sense of time and of distance. I only know that, though so high, I could distinguish the Thames with its few dotted lights about, though we were rapidly leaving London behind.We were passing over Essex, for I could plainly see the Thames widening upon my right, and I was gradually overhauling the enemy.At that moment I steadied myself, for I knew that the smallest slip would mean death to us both. At signal from me Teddy—who had already had the dynamo running for some time—placed his hand upon the switch which controlled the unseen, but deadly current.Slowly I crept nearer and nearer. Four thousand yards off—three thousand—another spurt—then I judged I was only two thousand yards away. Yet try how I would, I could get no nearer.Again I set to work and, letting out my roaring engines to their full power, I slowly decreased the space between the fleeing monster and myself, Teddy still awaiting my signal.Next instant I saw yet another spurt of fire from the rear gondola of the Zeppelin, and felt a hot, burning sensation in my forearm.Then I knew that I had been hit!I nudged Teddy, and he nodded. He understood and with the end of the box in which was the large, lens something like a camera, directed full upon the enemy, he pulled over the switch.The result was appalling.Next instant there was a blinding flash as the electric sparks flying from point to point all over the metal framework of the Zeppelin ignited the hydrogen; a huge red burst of flame came from the centre of the great airship, and following it was a terrific explosion, the frightful force of which would have turned us completely over had I not been prepared.I swerved quickly, in order to get out of the vicinity, for the danger at that instant was very great.Then, as I glanced aside, I saw the huge monster plunge down to earth, ablaze and flaring like a huge torch.A second terrific explosion of bombs occurred when it reached the ground, and the whole country-side, shaken as though by an earthquake, became instantly illuminated for miles around.Appalled at the sight, and yet relieved of the terrible tension, we both looked down and found that the enemy airship had, fortunately, fallen upon some flat land without houses—a wide, lonely marsh it appeared to be.I at once dropped to a thousand feet and then, with a final glance at our work of destruction, turned tail and set about finding a landmark.It was difficult, but I discovered one at last and, half an hour later, finding old Theed’s flares in Swalecliffe Park, gently planed again to earth.Need I detail the congratulations showered upon Teddy and myself; of Roseye’s delight, or of her parent’s enthusiasm next day? Indeed, it seemed as though the world about us—our little world who knew the truth of our night-exploit—had gone mad with joy.On the following day I reported personally to the authorities, and afterwards had a long conference with certain high officials, who listened most intently to the description of my apparatus, and who heartily congratulated both Teddy and myself.That same night, indeed, my description being but superficial, experts came down with me to Swalecliffe, where the apparatus was thoroughly and satisfactorily tested, and declared to be an air-defence of the highest importance, and one which must soon prove our superiority against the Zeppelin menace.It was, I felt, my duty to reveal in the proper quarter the dastardly attempts made upon all three of us by our enemies, directed by the man Eastwell, who I feared knew something of our secret, whereupon orders were at once given to the Special Branch of Scotland Yard for his arrest under the Defence of the Realm Act.Two officers ascended to his rooms in Albemarle Street an hour later, but when he learnt they were detectives he dashed into his bedroom and, without hesitation and before they could prevent him, shot himself.Sir Herbert has now given his consent to Roseye’s marriage “directly after the war,” and as for myself—well, I have been given an important post—with Teddy, of course, as my co-worker. We are working hard day and night in construction of certain heavy brown deal boxes, the secret of which the enemy in our midst is straining every nerve to discover.The only mention of the missing airship was a telegram published in the London newspapers on March 12, 1916, and which can be turned up in the files by any curious reader. I here give it in facsimile:—SEQUEL TO AIR RAID.ONE OF THE ZEPPELINS REPORTED DESTROYED.The Hague, March 11.—Private information received from Cologne says that one of the Zeppelins which dropped bombs recently in England has not yet returned. It is believed that the airship was wrecked.—Central News.The End.
Having taken Colonel and Mrs Cator into our confidence, and they having invited Roseye to stay with them, we were all, on the following day, duly installed at Swalecliffe Park.
Without delay I called upon the officer in charge of the listening-post—the whereabouts of which I do not intend to disclose—and, to my joy, found that he was a man named Moncrieff whom I had met many times at Hendon, and also at the club.
Having told him of my intention to have a “go” at the next enemy airship that might come over, he readily promised that upon receiving the next alarm, he would make a point of ringing me up at Swalecliffe.
Then, with the machine in readiness and already tested and re-tested, and also with a full petrol-tank, there was nothing further to do but to draw it out into the park each night, and await the alarm.
It was on the first day of March when we had come down in Swalecliffe Park as strangers—on a Wednesday I remember—and the following days had been fully occupied with our preparations, while throughout each night Teddy and I, ready dressed for flight, sat in the colonel’s study wherein the telephone was installed.
Thursday night passed quite uneventfully. During the earlier hours the colonel and Roseye sat with us, but the barometer being low, and the weather gusty, we had, even at ten o’clock, decided that no Zeppelin would risk crossing the North Sea.
On Friday night the four of us played bridge till half-past four, the Theeds being, of course, on duty outside. We had the consolation of knowing that, though the Invisible Hand might be searching for us, it had not yet discovered our place of concealment. Each evening we tested the telephone—through the local exchange—out to the listening-post, and each evening Moncrieff, who was in charge, answered cheerily:
“Don’t fear, old chap, I’ll give you a ring as soon as anything is going on.”
Saturday, the fourth of March, was bright and warm, but just before sunset a sharp easterly breeze sprang up and, with a falling barometer, we knew that our vigilance would remain unrewarded. So again we played bridge until Roseye grew sleepy and then retired. Certainly we did not appear to meet with any luck.
On Sunday morning we all went to the pretty little church of Swalecliffe, and in the afternoon I went out for a pleasant stroll with Roseye through the park and leafless woods.
Again I pressed her to reveal to me what she knew regarding that mysterious woman who was in association with the fellow Eastwell.
But once again she steadfastly declined to reveal anything.
“No, no!” she protested. “Please don’t ask me, Claude.”
“But surely I have a right to know!” I declared. “Your enemies are mine; and we are fighting them together. We have agreed to marry, Roseye, therefore you may surely trust me with your secret!”
I had halted at a stile before crossing our path leading into the wood, and, as I held her hand in mine, I looked straight into her big blue eyes.
She drew a long breath, and her gaze wavered. I saw that she now relented, and that she was unable to refute my argument.
I pressed her hand and, in a deep, earnest voice, urged:
“Tell me darling.Do tell me?”
Again her chest heaved and fell beneath her furs.
“Well, Claude. It’s—it’s a strange story—as strange as any woman has ever lived to tell,” she said at last, with great hesitation and speaking very slowly. “On that morning when I left I received a letter purporting to come from you, and urging me to meet you in secret on the departure platform of the Great Northern station at King’s Cross. Naturally, much puzzled, I went there, wondering what had happened. While waiting, a woman—the woman you have seen—came up to me and told me that you had sent her—that you wished to see me in secret in connexion with your invention, but that you were in hiding because you feared that some spies intended to obtain knowledge of the truth. She said that there were enemy spies on every hand, and that it would be best to go over to the hotel, and there wait till night before we went North to Grantham, whither you had gone.”
“Grantham!” I echoed. “I’ve not been in Grantham for years.”
“But I believed that you were there, so plausible was the woman’s story,” she replied. “We left at night, travelling in a first-class compartment together. On the way, I suddenly suspected her. Somehow I did not like the look in those strange eyes of hers, and I accused her of deceiving me. Indeed, while dozing, I had seen her carefully take my chatelaine, put something into it, and drop it out of the window. We were in a tunnel, I believe.”
“Then it was that woman who put the cipher-message into your card-case!” I exclaimed. “Yes, go on.”
“Yes,” she replied. “I sprang up, and tried to pull the communication-cord as we came out of the tunnel, but she prevented me. She pushed a sponge saturated with some pungent-smelling liquid into my face, and then I knew nothing more until I found myself in a small room in a cottage somewhere remote in the country.”
“Then you were detained there—eh?”
“Yes. Forcibly. That awful woman tried, by every means in her power, to force or induce me to reveal the details of the experiments which you and Teddy were making at Gunnersbury. But I refused. Ah! how that hell-fiend tortured me day after day!
“She nearly drove me mad by those fearful ordeals which, in a hundred ways, she put upon me—always promising to release me if I would but reveal details of what we had discovered. But I refused—refused always, Claude—because I knew that she was an enemy, and victory must be ours if I remained silent. Days—those terrible days—passed—so many that I lost count of them—yet I knew that the woman with the cruel eyes of a leopard had dosed me with some drug that sapped my senses, and she held me irrevocably in her power, prompted no doubt by somebody who meant to work evil also upon you. In the end I must have lost my reason. I think she must have given me certain drugs in order to confuse me as to the past. Then, one day, I found myself in the town of Grantham, inquiring for the station. I was in a maid’s clothes, and in them I eventually returned to you. And you—Claude—you know all the rest.” And she burst into a torrent of tears.
“Yes,” I said slowly. “And that blackguard Lionel Eastwell is the man who has directed all this intricate and dastardly intrigue against us.”
Then I took my love into my arms, and pressing her to me, soothed her tears with my passionate kisses.
What she had revealed to me amazed me.
In the evening, just after the Sunday-night supper, Benton, the fat old butler, entered the drawing-room and, approaching me, said:
“Mr Moncrieff is on the telephone, sir.”
I sprang up with alacrity and, a few seconds later, spoke to my friend at the listening-post.
“You there, Munro?” he asked. “We’ve just had a message to say that three Zeppelins are crossing the North Sea in the direction of the Norfolk coast.”
“Right!” I said, and shut off at once. There was no time to lose.
In a moment I told them of the alarm. Without much delay Teddy and I slipped into our air-kit, while Theed, with the machine wheeled out into the park, reported that all was in readiness.
I met Roseye in the corridor above the central staircase of the great old-world house, and there kissed her fondly.
“For your dear sake I go, and for the sake of my King and country!” I whispered. “Good-bye, my darling. Keep a stout heart until you hear of me again!”
“But—oh!—oh!—I fear, Claude!” she cried anxiously, clinging to me.
“No, my darling. We must, to-day, all make sacrifices. There must be no fear. I shall be back with you to-morrow.”
And then again I kissed her and disengaged those loving, clinging arms about me.
Five minutes later Teddy and I were away in the air.
The night was dull and overcast with a promise of clearing—yet bitterly cold.
Of course with our big engine roaring we could hear nothing of the enemy’s approach, but I deemed it wise to rise high and, at the same time, to follow the railway line from Colchester towards London, because that, no doubt, was the route which the airships would follow.
The alarm had been given, trains being darkened and brought to a standstill, station and signal-lights extinguished and towns blotted out, I quickly lost sight of the railway track and could only go very slowly to save petrol in case of a chase, and guide myself by my compass.
From a town somewhere on the coast I could see the long scintillating beams of a searchlight striking across the dark night sky, first directed in one quarter and then in another. I think it must have been the searchlight on the coast at T—.
I saw Teddy was busy adjusting the Lewis machine-gun at his side as we climbed rapidly in the pitch darkness. The engine raced and hummed and the wind shrieked weirdly around us.
I switched on the bulb over the instruments, in order to look at my altimeter, but so dark was it that the light got into my eyes and I was compelled to shut it off again.
I flew in a wide circle at first, steadily climbing until the few faint twinkling lights below had disappeared entirely. We were getting nearer and nearer the Zeppelin altitude.
Ah! how the engine throbbed and roared.
Suddenly something black shot up close to me, rushing on as quickly as an express train. So suddenly did it rise up against me, that it gave me quite a start. It seemed a great, unholy thing, and quite shapeless.
It was another aeroplane, like ourselves, out to destroy the enemy airship with bombs. And by Jove! we narrowly avoided a nasty collision.
A second later we heard the loud report of a gun. Our anti-aircraft gunners had spotted their quarry somewhere in the vicinity. A moment afterwards upon our left, straight before us, two long beams of searchlight shot out, and then a sharp volley from the guns.
They were possibly five miles distant, and in the direction of London—somewhere near Brentwood I thought.
Bang! bang!—bang! we could hear, even above the throb of our powerful engine. Teddy turned on the second engine, and then opened up the searchlight, sweeping it around before us. But we could see nothing save some thin filmy clouds.
Suddenly the searchlights from below went out, and the guns ceased. With one eye upon the altimeter I peered over, hoping to pick up some landmark, but I could find absolutely none.
That a Zeppelin was in the vicinity was certain. I tried to keep as cool as I possibly could, but I confess that at that moment it was difficult.
I cruised about, knowing that I was now nearing the London area.
Suddenly, deep below, yet some miles ahead, I saw a blood-red flash. The Zeppelin had dropped a bomb!
Again I switched on the little light, and a glance at my altimeter showed that I was up eleven thousand feet, therefore I pushed straight along in the direction of that red glare.
That it was an incendiary one I saw, because the flare continued far down in the misty workaday world below.
The Zeppelin was executing its evil work upon the harmless civilian inhabitants.
I craned and peered around on all sides, but could see nothing else—only the glare from the incendiary fire.
The night was rapidly growing brighter, and we could see the stars. Again we heard a violent cannonade, and once more half a dozen beams of searchlights swept the sky from several points evidently much nearer to London. More than once the searchlights picked us up and examined us with suspicion, blinding us with their glare the while.
Once more from below there came up two loud detonations—high explosive bombs—yet we could see no Zeppelin, though we peered into the darkness again as soon as the searchlight left us.
Blinded by the glare, I had banked a little too steeply, and nearly had another bad nose-dive. Teddy noticed it, and said something, but what it was I could not hear for the roar. That an enemy airship was about, and that it had dropped incendiary bombs was proved by the three or four red glares we could distinctly see beneath us.
No doubt the Zeppelin was moving fast, dropping her bombs preparatory to rising and escaping beyond the zone of our anti-aircraft guns. I rose higher, but still no sign of it. Apparently the searchlights, having once located it, had again lost it, for once more all the guns were silent.
I began to lose heart. How horribly cold it was!
I was now over London, unless I was much mistaken. Several other of our bomb-dropping aeroplanes were circling below me, also unable to find the Zeppelin.
Suddenly Teddy gave me a sharp nudge and pointed upward.
I glanced in the direction he indicated, and there saw the great long dark hull of the airship hovering quite near us.
We were then over eight thousand feet up, and the airship was perhaps another thousand feet higher. I could distinguish its two gondolas, and as we passed near its stern its fins and planes were now plainly silhouetted against the bright, steely sky.
With all speed possible I shot upward, but apparently the commander of the Zeppelin had discovered us, while at that very same moment a searchlight from somewhere below picked him up and revealed him, a huge silvery object, upon the side of which was painted in black a large iron-cross, the Hun badge of frightfulness, together with initial and number “L39.”
Scarcely had I become aware of the close proximity of the enemy when I saw a little spurt of red flare from the forward gondola. It continued for several moments, and I knew that it was a machine-gun spitting forth its leaden hail upon us.
Therefore I drew away and rose still higher, while, next second, the propellers of the monster airship began to whirr and it started away, nose upward and due east, evidently upon its homeward journey.
Unfortunately the men manning our searchlights below kept one of their beams upon us as well as another upon the Zeppelin, and I must confess that both Teddy and I, in our excitement, consigned them to a place with an atmosphere slightly warmer than the one we were at that moment experiencing. It seemed as though the anti-aircraft gunners, knowing the airship to be now out of range, were seized by a sudden curiosity to see what we were doing chasing the Zeppelin away as we gradually rose above it.
Ah! Shall I ever forget those exciting moments! Time after time the machine-gun on the monster airship fired upon us, but I was flying in such a manner that to hit us would, I knew, be difficult. Yet just then a stray bullet struck one of my planes and went through it, while a second later another tore through the casing of the fuselage.
The commander of the Zeppelin thought, no doubt, that our intention was to rise and drop a bomb upon him, and he was now travelling very quickly in order to try and outpace us. In this, however, he did not succeed.
How far we travelled I have no idea. In those moments I lost all sense of time and of distance. I only know that, though so high, I could distinguish the Thames with its few dotted lights about, though we were rapidly leaving London behind.
We were passing over Essex, for I could plainly see the Thames widening upon my right, and I was gradually overhauling the enemy.
At that moment I steadied myself, for I knew that the smallest slip would mean death to us both. At signal from me Teddy—who had already had the dynamo running for some time—placed his hand upon the switch which controlled the unseen, but deadly current.
Slowly I crept nearer and nearer. Four thousand yards off—three thousand—another spurt—then I judged I was only two thousand yards away. Yet try how I would, I could get no nearer.
Again I set to work and, letting out my roaring engines to their full power, I slowly decreased the space between the fleeing monster and myself, Teddy still awaiting my signal.
Next instant I saw yet another spurt of fire from the rear gondola of the Zeppelin, and felt a hot, burning sensation in my forearm.
Then I knew that I had been hit!
I nudged Teddy, and he nodded. He understood and with the end of the box in which was the large, lens something like a camera, directed full upon the enemy, he pulled over the switch.
The result was appalling.
Next instant there was a blinding flash as the electric sparks flying from point to point all over the metal framework of the Zeppelin ignited the hydrogen; a huge red burst of flame came from the centre of the great airship, and following it was a terrific explosion, the frightful force of which would have turned us completely over had I not been prepared.
I swerved quickly, in order to get out of the vicinity, for the danger at that instant was very great.
Then, as I glanced aside, I saw the huge monster plunge down to earth, ablaze and flaring like a huge torch.
A second terrific explosion of bombs occurred when it reached the ground, and the whole country-side, shaken as though by an earthquake, became instantly illuminated for miles around.
Appalled at the sight, and yet relieved of the terrible tension, we both looked down and found that the enemy airship had, fortunately, fallen upon some flat land without houses—a wide, lonely marsh it appeared to be.
I at once dropped to a thousand feet and then, with a final glance at our work of destruction, turned tail and set about finding a landmark.
It was difficult, but I discovered one at last and, half an hour later, finding old Theed’s flares in Swalecliffe Park, gently planed again to earth.
Need I detail the congratulations showered upon Teddy and myself; of Roseye’s delight, or of her parent’s enthusiasm next day? Indeed, it seemed as though the world about us—our little world who knew the truth of our night-exploit—had gone mad with joy.
On the following day I reported personally to the authorities, and afterwards had a long conference with certain high officials, who listened most intently to the description of my apparatus, and who heartily congratulated both Teddy and myself.
That same night, indeed, my description being but superficial, experts came down with me to Swalecliffe, where the apparatus was thoroughly and satisfactorily tested, and declared to be an air-defence of the highest importance, and one which must soon prove our superiority against the Zeppelin menace.
It was, I felt, my duty to reveal in the proper quarter the dastardly attempts made upon all three of us by our enemies, directed by the man Eastwell, who I feared knew something of our secret, whereupon orders were at once given to the Special Branch of Scotland Yard for his arrest under the Defence of the Realm Act.
Two officers ascended to his rooms in Albemarle Street an hour later, but when he learnt they were detectives he dashed into his bedroom and, without hesitation and before they could prevent him, shot himself.
Sir Herbert has now given his consent to Roseye’s marriage “directly after the war,” and as for myself—well, I have been given an important post—with Teddy, of course, as my co-worker. We are working hard day and night in construction of certain heavy brown deal boxes, the secret of which the enemy in our midst is straining every nerve to discover.
The only mention of the missing airship was a telegram published in the London newspapers on March 12, 1916, and which can be turned up in the files by any curious reader. I here give it in facsimile:—
SEQUEL TO AIR RAID.
ONE OF THE ZEPPELINS REPORTED DESTROYED.
The Hague, March 11.—Private information received from Cologne says that one of the Zeppelins which dropped bombs recently in England has not yet returned. It is believed that the airship was wrecked.—Central News.
The End.