The Angel of the Revolution: a Tale of the Coming Terror - Cover

The Angel of the Revolution: a Tale of the Coming Terror

Public Domain

Chapter XXXI: A Russian Raid

Mazanoff came to himself about ten minutes later, lying on one of the seats in the after saloon, and all that he saw when he first opened his eyes was the white anxious face of Radna bending over him.

“What is the matter? What has happened? Where am I?” he asked, as soon as his tongue obeyed his will. His voice, although broken and unsteady, was almost as strong as usual, and Radna’s face immediately brightened as she heard it. A smile soon chased away her anxious look, and she said cheerily--

“Ah, come! you’re not killed after all. You are still on board the Ariel, and what has happened is this as far as I can see. In your hurry to return the shot from the Russian flagship you fired your guns at too close range, and the shock of the explosion stunned you. In fact, we thought for the moment you had blown the Ariel up too, for she shook so that we all fell down; then her engines stopped, and she almost fell into the water before they could be started again.”

“Is she all right now? Where’s the Russian fleet, and what happened to the flagship? I must get on deck,” exclaimed Mazanoff, sitting up on the seat. As he did so he put his hand to his head and said: “I feel a bit shaky still. What’s that--brandy you’ve got there? Get me some champagne, and put the brandy into it. I shall be all right when I’ve had a good drink. Now I think of it, I wonder that explosion didn’t blow us to bits. You haven’t told me what became of the flagship,” he continued, as Radna came back with a small bottle of champagne and uncorked it.

“Well, the flagship is at the bottom of the German Ocean. When Petroff told me that you had fallen dead, as he said, on deck, I ran up in defiance of your orders and saw the battleship just going down. The shells had blown the middle of her right out, and a cloud of steam and smoke and fire was rising out of a great ragged space where the funnels had been. Before I got you down here she broke right in two and went down.”

“That serves that blackguard Prabylov right for saying we forged the Tsar’s letter, and firing on a flag of truce. Poor Volnow’s dead, I suppose?”

“Oh yes,” replied Radna sadly. “He was shot almost to pieces by the volley from the machine gun. The deck saloon is riddled with bullets, and the decks badly torn up, but fortunately the hull and propellers are almost uninjured. But come, drink this, then you can go up and see for yourself.”

So saying she handed him a tumbler of champagne well dashed with brandy. He drank it down at a gulp, like the Russian that he was, and said as he put the glass down--

“That’s better. I feel a new man. Now give me a kiss, batiushka, and I’ll be off.”

When he reached the deck he found the Ariel ascending towards the Ithuriel, and about a mile astern of the Russian fleet, the vessels of which were blazing away into the air with their machine guns, in the hope of “bringing him down on the wing,” as he afterwards put it. He could hear the bullets singing along underneath him; but the Ariel was rising so fast, and going at such a speed through the air, that the moment the Russians got the range they lost it again, and so merely wasted their ammunition.

Neither the Ithuriel nor the Orion seemed to have taken any part in the battle so far, or to have done anything to avenge the attack made upon the Ariel. Mazanoff wondered not a little at this, as both Arnold and Tremayne must have seen the fate of the Russian flagship. As soon as he got within speaking distance of the Ithuriel, he sang out to Arnold, who was on the deck--

“I got in rather a tight place down there. That scoundrel fired upon us with the flag of truce flying, and when I gave him a couple of shells in return I thought the end of the world was come.”

“You fired at too close range, my friend. Those shells are sudden death to anything within a hundred yards of them. Are you all well on board? You’ve been knocked about a bit, I see.”

“No; poor Volnow’s dead. He was killed standing close beside me, and I wasn’t touched, though the explosion of the shell knocked the senses out of me completely. However, the machinery’s all right, and I don’t think the hull is hurt to speak of. But what are you doing? I should have thought you’d have blown half the fleet out of the water by this time.”

“No. We saw that you had amply avenged yourself, and the Master’s orders were not to do anything till you returned. You’d better come on board and consult with him.”

Mazanoff did so, and when he had told his story to Natas, the latter mystified him not a little by replying--

“I am glad that none of you are injured, though, of course, I’m sorry that I sent Volnow to his death; but that is the fortune of war. If one of us fell into his master’s hands his fate would be worse than that. You avenged the outrage promptly and effectively.

“I have decided not to injure the Russian fleet more than I can help. It has work to do which must not be interfered with. My only object is to recover the Lucifer, if possible, and so we shall follow the fleet for the present across the North Sea on our way to the rendezvous with the other vessels from Aeria which are to meet us on Rockall Island, and wait our opportunity. Should the opportunity not come before then, we must proceed to extremities, and destroy her and the cruiser that has her on board.

“And do you think we shall get such an opportunity?”

“I don’t know,” replied Natas. “But it is possible. I don’t think it likely that the fleet will have coal enough for a long cruise in the Atlantic, and therefore it is possible that they will make a descent on Aberdeen, which they are quite strong enough to capture if they like, and coal up there. In that case it is extremely probable that they will make use of the air-ship to terrorise the town into surrender, and as soon as she takes the air we must make a dash for her, and either take her or blow her to pieces.”

Arnold expressed his entire agreement with this idea, and, as the event proved, it was entirely correct. Instead of steering nor’-nor’-west, as they would have done had they intended to go round the Shetland Islands, or north-west, had they chosen the course between the Orkneys and the Shetlands, the Russian vessels kept a due westerly course during the rest of the day, and this course could only take them to the Scotch coast near Aberdeen.

The distance from where they were was a little under five hundred miles, and at their present rate of steaming they would reach Aberdeen about four o’clock on the following afternoon. The air-ships followed them at a height of four thousand feet during the rest of the day and until shortly before dawn on the following morning.

They then put on speed, took a wide sweep to the northward, and returned southward over Banffshire, and passing Aberdeen to the west, found a secluded resting-place on the northern spur of the Kincardineshire Hills, about five miles to the southward of the Granite City.

Here the repairs which were needed by the Ariel were at once taken in hand by her own crew and that of the Ithuriel, while the Orion was sent out to sea again to keep a sharp look-out for the Russian fleet, which she would sight long before she herself became visible, and then to watch the movements of the Russians from as great a distance as possible until it was time to make the counter-attack.

As Aberdeen was then one of the coaling depots for the North Sea Squadron, it was defended by two battleships, the Ascalon and the Menelaus, three powerful coast-defence vessels, the Thunderer, the Cyclops, and the Pluto, six cruisers, and twelve torpedo-boats. The shore defences consisted of a fort on the north bank at the mouth of the Dee, mounting ten heavy guns, and the Girdleness fort, mounting twenty-four 9-inch twenty-five ton guns, in connection with which was a station for working navigable torpedoes of the Brennan type, which had been considerably improved during the last ten years.

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