The Angel of the Revolution: A Tale of the Coming TerrorGriffith, George Chetwynd
Science
The Angel of the Revolution: A Tale of the Coming Terror
Griffith, George Chetwynd
Science fiction
"In about sixteen hours if we had to go all the way," replied Arnold.
"It is, say, three thousand miles from here to New York, and the
_Ithuriel_ can fly two hundred miles an hour if necessary. But the
_Aurania_, if she starts in good time, will make between four and
five hundred miles during the day, and so we ought to meet her soon
after sundown this evening if we are lucky."
As Arnold ceased speaking, the report of a single gun came up from
the water, and a string of signal flags floated out from the masthead
of the British cruiser.
"Hullo!" said Tremayne, once more turning the glasses on the two
vessels, "that was a blank cartridge, and as far as I can make out
that signal reads, 'We want to speak you.' And look: there goes a
white flag to the fore. His intentions are evidently peaceful. What
do you say, shall we go down?"
"I see no objection to it. It will only make a difference of half an
hour or so, and perhaps we may learn something worth knowing from the
captain about the naval force afloat in the Atlantic. I think it
would be worth while. We have no need for concealment now; and
besides, all Europe is talking about us, so there can be no harm in
showing ourselves a bit more closely."
"Very well, then, we will go down and hear what he has to say,"
replied Tremayne. "But I don't think it would be well for me to show
myself just now, and so I will go below."
Arnold at once signalled the necessary order from the conning tower
to the engine-room. The fan-wheels revolved more slowly, and the
_Ithuriel_ sank swiftly downwards towards the two cruisers, now lying
side by side.
As soon as she came to a standstill within speaking distance of the
British man-of-war, discipline was for the moment forgotten on board
of both victor and vanquished, under the influence of the intense
excitement and curiosity aroused by seeing the mysterious and
much-talked-of air-ship at such close quarters.
The French and British captains were both standing on the
quarter-deck eagerly scanning the strange craft through their glasses
till she came near enough to dispense with them, and every man and
officer on board the two cruisers who was able to be on deck, crowded
to points of 'vantage, and stared at her with all their eyes. The
whole company of the _Ithuriel_, with the exception of Natas,
Tremayne, and those whose duties kept them in the engine-room, were
also on deck, and Arnold stood close by the wheel-house and the after
gun, ready to give any orders that might be necessary in case the
conversation took an unfriendly turn.
"May I ask the name of that wonderful craft, and to what I am
indebted for the assistance you have given me?" hailed the British
captain.
"Certainly. This is the Terrorist air-ship _Ithuriel_, and we
disabled the French cruiser because her captain had the bad manners
to fire upon and sink an unarmed yacht that had no quarrel with him.
But for that we should have left you to fight it out."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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