“Donnerwetter!” cried the German, starting up in fright. “Vat you say? Vould you do zat? Vould you desert? Vould you leave me, a Jarman sobjeck, to be tore in piece by tousand vile Mohrs, ven ze sea, ze sea vat sails ze Jarman fleet, is so near, so near? But yes—I know it! I alvays say so. Never trust an Englishman—egzept in business!” Tom treated this outburst with silent contempt. “I can’t go at a higher speed than fifteen miles an hour,” he said to Oliphant. “We’re perhaps a mile nearer the sea than the Moors, but they can equal our pace for a short distance, and I know we’ll have to come down before we get to the sea. If we do, we’ll be collared.” “Risk a dash! It seems our only chance.” Tom hesitated for a few moments. Then he said, setting his teeth— “All right. It’s the only thing to do.” He put both engines at full speed, and Schwab shouted with delight when he saw that the airship was gradually drawing away from the galloping Moors. But in ten minutes all three were aware of the ominous smell. Was it possible to reach the yacht, now clearly in view? Tom, alert to catch the slightest indication of failure on the part of the engines, hoped, doubted, hoped again, but was resolved to hold on to the last. Another five minutes passed. Then all were startled by a strange grinding sound in the defective engine. “What is it?” asked Oliphant. “It’s all up,” said Tom quietly. “The heat has loosened the turbine blades, and they are smashing to pieces.” Even as he spoke sheets of flame shot from the exhaust pipe, accompanied by a series of deafening reports. Tom at once reduced speed, shouting to Oliphant to adjust the planes for descent. “Zink! Zink vat you do!” cried Schwab, now almost frantic. “Zey vill have us! Ze Mohrs vill cut our zroats! Vy—vy—vy——” Tom paid no heed; Oliphant muttered under his breath. They were sinking towards a ravine through which a watercourse ran to the sea. The engine, its parts grinding and tearing with a hideous scrunching sound, was shooting out flames, to the accompaniment of detonations like those of a Maxim gun. Another minute or two would witness a cataclysm; but Tom thought that if the farther side of the ravine could be reached, they might gain a little grace. The enemy would have some difficulty in crossing at speed. The engines were failing; the airship was falling more and more rapidly. “Can’t screw the planes any further!” cried Tom. Oliphant wrenched at the lever; Tom put the whole force of the second engine upon the ascensional screws; and the rapidity of descent was somewhat checked. The ravine was directly beneath; Tom succeeded in giving the vessel a last forward motion; then it came with a violent bump to the ground, just on the further edge. “Out! Quick!” cried Tom to Schwab, who was bemoaning the shock he had suffered. When all three stood safe on the ground, Tom caught hold of the rails of the car.