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
It may well be imagined with what interest, and it may fairly be
added with what intense anxiety, these words were read by hundreds of
thousands of people throughout the British Islands. Even the news
from the Seat of War began to pall in interest before such tidings as
these, invested as they were with the irresistible if terrible charm
of the unknown and the mysterious.
By noon it was almost impossible to get any one in London or any of
the large towns to talk of anything but the disappearance of Lord
Alanmere, the Terrorists, and their marvellous aërial fleet. But it
goes without saying that nowhere did the news produce greater
distress or more utter bewilderment than it did among the occupants
of Alanmere Castle, and especially in the breast of her who had been
so quickly and so strangely installed as its new owner and mistress.
Everywhere the wildest rumours passed from lip to lip, growing in
sensation and absurdity as they went. A report, telegraphed by an
anonymous idiot from Liverpool, to the effect that six air-ships had
appeared over the Mersey, and demanded a ransom of £10,000,000 from
the town, was eagerly seized on by the cheaper evening papers, which
rushed out edition after edition on the strength of it, until the
_St. James's Gazette_ put an end to the excitement by publishing a
telegram from the Mayor of Liverpool denouncing the report as an
insane and criminal hoax.
The next edition of the _St. James's_, however, contained a telegram
from Hiorring, in Denmark, _viâ_ Newcastle, which was of almost, if
not quite, as startling and disquieting a nature, and which,
moreover, contained a very considerable measure of truth. The
telegram ran as follows:--
NAVAL DISASTER IN THE BALTIC.
_The Sound forced by a Russian Squadron, assisted by a
Terrorist Air-Ship._
(_From our own Correspondent._)
Hiorring, _June 28th_, 8 A.M.
With the deepest regret I have to record the first naval disaster
to the British arms during the present war. As soon as it became
dark last night heavy firing was heard from Copenhagen to the
southward, and before long the sound deepened into an almost
continuous roar of light and heavy guns.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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