The Attila gradually rose higher, as the slopes of the South Downs confronted her. But she always kept about one hundred and fifty feet from the ground, deliberately19 courting the observation which she had once so shunned20. Of her purpose or ownership no sign however was given; it was pleasant to play with the unsuspicious fools whose lives and possessions she had so ruthlessly marked for her own. A more fascinating sight than this journey it is not easy to picture. Now, for the first time in my life, I fairly revelled21 in the incense22 of my fellow-creatures’ astonishment23. To dance butterfly-like over woods, fields, hills, and sinuous25 rivers, to grasp vast ever-changing vistas26 of scenery, are in themselves delicious. But when to these purely27 artistic28 joys are added those of power, when the roar of wondering cities rises upwards29, and you lean over the bulwarks30 serenely31 conscious of superiority, you must be described as realizing here on earth one of the paradises of dreamland.
At about ten o’clock we passed over Grinstead, and 139shortly afterwards crossed the boundaries of Sussex. By this time the preparations on the a?ronef were complete, and every one had been summoned to the citadel and told off to his post. And now there fell upon me the shadow of the coming disaster. The faces of the crew were savage32, even Brandt had lost his kindliness33. Burnett was surly, and asked how I liked my position. Rather nettled34, I told him that at any rate my hands would be free from blood-stains. Then it occurred to me that I might glean35 some interesting news from Hartmann. Eager for some excitement, as the depression stole heavier and heavier upon me, I ascended36 to the upper deck and pressed the button by the gate of the sombre citadel. Thomas appeared and telephoned my request to see the captain. The reply came back that he was in the conning-tower, but would be glad to see me for a moment. Accordingly, I was not long in making my way along the passage that led from the citadel to that favoured spot.
“Well,” he said, “I trust your nerves are in order. The drama opens in an hour. Within three days’ time London will be in ruins, and Lord Macaulay’s New Zealander will be able to commence his survey.”
“Is there no way of avoiding it? In the name of humanity, captain, I beseech37 you to pause. Think 140of the agonies which this awful resolve must breed! Think——”
“No more of this,” he said sharply. “You are my guest. You may, if you wish, be landed. You may, if you wish, remain. But in the latter case you will conform to my ruling.”
“And that is?”
“That you hold your tongue when desired to. London, I say, as Cato said of Carthage, London must be destroyed.”
“You have the advantage, captain. But thank heaven this will be no catastrophe38 of my making. And now may I ask a rather leading question?”
“By all means. At the worst you can only be refused an answer.”
“When and how will the first blow be struck?”
“Above the Houses of Parliament; a blank discharge of the cannon will warn all, after which my flag will be run out. And then——well——”
I understood.
“We shall conduct the attack in three ways—by shell firing and machine-gun fire, by dynamite39 and forcite bombs, and by streams of burning petroleum40.”
“Good God!”
“Meanwhile our associates will be spreading devastation41 141below. The Houses of Parliament, the City, and the West End will occupy us in turn.”
“Who will control operations?”
“Schwartz, Norris, and Brandt manage the bombs. Five Swiss the oil; the rest—with the exception of three in the engine-room—man the quick-firing and machine-guns. I myself shall direct the course of the Attila from this tower. You are free to walk the upper deck, but the lower gallery is being transformed into tanks to hold the oil. I must now ask you to go. Thomas, you will see Mr. Stanley on to the deck and place him under due watch. He is free to inspect all he wishes, but he must interfere42 with nothing—understand, with nothing either by word or deed. Any breach43 of the order will entail44 death.”
I was as helpless as a bluebottle in a spider’s web. Thank heavens that I had sent Lena that telegram and letter. Luckily, in any case, she and her parents ought to receive warning from the guarded hints doubtless already conveyed to Mrs. Hartmann.
When I reached the deck, Thomas (who acted as a sort of A.D.C.) told off a man to watch me, and then sped away below. Looking over the rail, I could see that the oil was being poured into tanks formed by fitting cross walls into parts of the lower gallery. There were some eight of these along the 142bow end of the vessel45 alone, and I trembled to think of the fearful mischief46 which these hideous47 contrivances portended48. Lamentations of this sort were, however, futile49. Casting an eye over the landscape, I saw Caterham vanishing beneath us, while to the right rolled the billowy expanse of the North Downs. We were now going at a high speed, and in a short time—far too short to my thinking—were rapidly skimming over Croydon, Norwood Junction50, and the Crystal Palace. We were now nearing our destination, and our altitude, recently raised to one of five hundred and fifty feet above sea-level, was once again suddenly altered to one of one hundred and fifty. The speed, too, was rapidly reduced, till at last gliding gracefully51 over Lambeth we passed obliquely52 over Westminster Bridge.
The scene here beggars description. The enormous crowd, already massed for some great labour demonstration53, usurped54 every available patch of standing room, windows and roofs became animated55, and vehicles of all sorts and conditions pulled up in batches56 and served as the vantage-ground of excited groups. Probably the arrival at Brighton had been at once telegraphed to the newspaper offices, but few knew of it, and to those few (the anarchist57 “brothers” apart) the Attila was necessarily a complete mystery. 143To the majority we came as falls a bolt from the blue (I refer here to the universal astonishment apparent, for at the outset it was clear enough that the a?ronef inspired no terror). Cheers shook the air beneath us, and the distant thunders of applause rumbled58 far away down the Embankment.
A man stepped aside from his gun, and pointed59 down at the crowd on Westminster Bridge.
“This is the bridge blown up by Hartmann and Schwartz ten years ago. These vermin seem to have liked it, don’t they?”
I turned away in disgust. What a mockery it was! The populace thought they were applauding an inventor, and they cheered a ruthless destroyer! Terrible captain, Morituri te salutant. But the hour had come—the clock-tower rose only twenty yards from us.
Suddenly a gong sounded ominously60. It was the signal. The four quick-firing guns vomited61 flame simultaneously62, and ere the crash had died away, a blood-red flag was to be seen fluttering at the stern. The crew yelled with excitement, as well they might, for the coup63 was evilly romantic. On its broad fluttering bosom64 the flag bore five ominous words—words which carried a terrible commentary with them—
THUS RETURNS HARTMANN THE ANARCHIST.
144It was a shock never to be forgotten. The cheering ceased in an instant, and in its place curses and howls rose up from the struggling mob. Even the sightseers on the roofs shook their fists at the Attila.
“Ah, vermin!” yelled one of the crew, “you will howl louder soon.”
The words had scarcely left his lips when the Attila was sharply propelled onwards, the force being such as to cause me to grasp the railing to save myself from falling. The object of this man?uvre was evident. It was necessary to rise, now that we were recognized, and active operations were to commence. After a series of brilliant wheels the Attila climbed high above the clock-tower and commenced to cruise about in large circles.
The gong sounded once more. Once more the quick-firing guns vomited flame, and this time the charge was not blank. And mingling65 with their almost continuous roar, there now came a crash of appalling66 magnitude, shaking the very recesses68 of one’s brain. Another and another followed, till the air seemed to beat in waves upon us, and our ears became veritable torture-chambers. Then followed a rattle69 like that of a landslip. I looked over, to start back with a shriek70. Horror of horrors, the great tower had fallen on the crowd, bruising71 into jelly a legion of buried 145wretches, and beating into ruins the whole mass of buildings opposite. Every outlet72 from the neighbourhood was being furiously fought for, hordes73 of screaming, shrieking74 madmen were falling, crushing and stamping their victims into heaps, and with the growth of each writhing75 heap the ghastly confusion grew also. Of the Houses of Parliament pinnacles76 were collapsing77 and walls were being riven asunder78 as the shells burst within them.
“THUS RETURNS HARTMANN THE ANARCHIST.”
147But this spectacle, grievous of its kind, was as nothing to the other. With eyes riveted79 now to the massacre80, I saw frantic81 women trodden down by men; huge clearings made by the shells and instantly filled up; house-fronts crushing horses and vehicles as they fell; fires bursting out on all sides, to devour82 what they listed, and terrified police struggling wildly and helplessly in the heart of the press. The roar of the guns was continuous, and every missile found its billet. Was I in Pandemonium83? I saw Burnett, black with grime, hounding his comrades on to the slaughter84. I heard the roar of Schwartz’s bombs, and the roar of the burning and falling houses. Huge circles of flame raved85 beneath us, and shot up their feverish86 and scorching87 breath. The Attila, drunk with slaughter, was careering in continually fresh tracts88, spreading havoc89 and desolation everywhere. 148To compare her to a wolf in a flock of helpless sheep is idle—the sheep could at least butt24, the victims below could not approach, and after some time, indeed, owing to the smoke, could not even see us.
The morning passed in horror, but the story of the afternoon and evening is wilder yet. The sky, overcast90 with clouds and black with uprolling smoke-wreaths, lay like a strangely spotted91 pall67 over the blazing district. Around and within Westminster enmity could do no more. Shortly before two o’clock the Attila drew off. With the screws working powerfully she climbed upwards into the heavens, and buried in the cloud-masses gave London a momentary92 respite93. Hartmann wished not to fatigue94 the crew, being anxious to reserve their energies for the attack on the City. His aim was to pierce the ventricle of the heart of civilization, that heart which pumps the blood of capital everywhere, through the arteries95 of Russia, of Australia, of India, just as through the capillaries96 of fur companies in North America, planting enterprises in Ecuador, and trading steamers on African rivers. “Paralyze this heart,” he has said, “and you paralyze credit and the mechanism97 of finance almost universally.” The result already known to history proved too well that he was right; 149but my task is not to play the historian, but simply to tell my tale as one who has trod the Attila.
The interval98 of respite was not long, but during the whole time we kept well veiled within the angry zone of clouds. Burnett came up to speak to me, but I received him coldly enough. Schwartz was “surprised that I had no compliment” for him when “even the captain” was pleased. He remarked that the slaughter had been prodigious99, that the Houses of Parliament were wrecked100, and the flames were carrying everything before them. Nero fiddling101 over Rome was respectable compared with this monster; but to attack him would have been fatal, as I should have at once been shot or thrown overboard. Hartmann remained invisible, he was still at his post in the conning-tower.
Towards three o’clock I noticed the men hurrying hastily to their posts. The assault was shortly to begin. Slowly we emerged from the cloud-rack, wheeling ever in great circles above the luckless quarry102 below. A queer accident delayed us. I was standing by the citadel when I heard a sharp crack, followed by a sensation of rapid sinking. The shaft103 of the main screw had broken, and we were rushing downwards like a parachute. Everything for the moment was in confusion and more than one cheek 150paled, but a master-hand was in the conning-tower. Without even handling the sand levers, Hartmann set the auxiliary104 screws rotating at a high speed. At once the fall was checked, and the Attila rose once more into the clouds. After an hour’s delay the shaft was temporarily repaired, and arrangements were made to replace it, if necessary, with a spare one. Luckily for the a?ronef these shafts105 were extremely short, so that two spare ones could always be kept in hand without undue106 demand for stowage room. The present mishap107 was not at all serious, as between the repaired shaft and the spare ones there was little, if anything, to choose. The only “lucky” thing was that the snap had not taken place too close to the stern. In this case the screw-blades might have torn away the stern-plating and irretrievably damaged themselves at the same time.
The Attila now began to re-descend, working all three screws at once. We were evidently not unexpected, for I made out soldiery in the streets, and several detachments of artillery108. How they expected to wing us I really do not know, for a moving a?ronef hurling109 forcite and dynamite missiles is neither an easy nor a pleasant target. The height at which we were must also be borne in mind. I suppose I am within the mark when I say that our descent stopped 151at the half-mile limit. There was no delay this time. The first and second bombs fell on the Tower, reducing it half to ruins; they were of the largest kind, and terribly effective instruments. Meanwhile the quick-firing guns played havoc at all points of the compass. But the worst was to come. As we rode over the heart of the City—that sanctum of capital, where the Bank of England, many other banks of scarcely less brilliant fame, the Royal Exchange, Stock Exchange, with credit companies, insurance offices, and discount houses innumerable lie herded—the bombs fell in a tempest, shattering fabric110 after fabric, and uprooting111 their very foundations. There was a constant roar of explosions, and the loss of life must have been something terrible. Burnett was in his element. Handling his gun like a practised marksman, he riddled112 St. Paul’s and its neighbourhood, the crash of the infalling dome113 rising even above the explosions around it. But for him, at least, there was retribution. Hitherto, bating rifle-fire, we had escaped being hit, the motion and height of the Attila were in our favour. South London enjoyed the downfall of the shells launched against us. But, as fate would have it, a volley of grape-shot struck us. From the sides of the a?ronef they rebounded114, steel armour115 would have been more easily 152pierced, but a stray one found a billet. Burnett was gazing over the side through the smoke at the wreckage116 when a ball holed his throat. He fell back with a gurgle. I ran up, and saw the man was failing—the blood was spurting117 from his carotid like jets from a siphon. In less than a minute he was dead.
His fate was deserved, and I felt no ray of sympathy, for by this time I was dead to all feelings except those of helpless hatred118 for the anarchists119, and horror at the hideous slaughter below. Before this horror every former sympathy with Hartmann and his crew had withered120. Could I have killed Hartmann at that moment I would gladly have paid the price for it. But his day of reckoning was to come.
153
THE DEATH OF BURNETT.
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1 memorable | |
adj.值得回忆的,难忘的,特别的,显著的 | |
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14 homage | |
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29 upwards | |
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31 serenely | |
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33 kindliness | |
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38 catastrophe | |
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39 dynamite | |
n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
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40 petroleum | |
n.原油,石油 | |
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41 devastation | |
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44 entail | |
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47 hideous | |
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57 anarchist | |
n.无政府主义者 | |
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58 rumbled | |
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61 vomited | |
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62 simultaneously | |
adv.同时发生地,同时进行地 | |
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63 coup | |
n.政变;突然而成功的行动 | |
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64 bosom | |
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66 appalling | |
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68 recesses | |
n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 );(工作或业务活动的)中止或暂停期间;学校的课间休息;某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 );将(墙)做成凹形,在(墙)上做壁龛;休息,休会,休庭 | |
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69 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
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70 shriek | |
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
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(因极度痛苦而)扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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压扁[平],毁坏,断裂 | |
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83 pandemonium | |
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88 tracts | |
大片土地( tract的名词复数 ); 地带; (体内的)道; (尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的)短文 | |
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89 havoc | |
n.大破坏,浩劫,大混乱,大杂乱 | |
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90 overcast | |
adj.阴天的,阴暗的,愁闷的;v.遮盖,(使)变暗,包边缝;n.覆盖,阴天 | |
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91 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
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92 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
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93 respite | |
n.休息,中止,暂缓 | |
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94 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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95 arteries | |
n.动脉( artery的名词复数 );干线,要道 | |
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96 capillaries | |
毛细管,毛细血管( capillary的名词复数 ) | |
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97 mechanism | |
n.机械装置;机构,结构 | |
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98 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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99 prodigious | |
adj.惊人的,奇妙的;异常的;巨大的;庞大的 | |
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100 wrecked | |
adj.失事的,遇难的 | |
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101 fiddling | |
微小的 | |
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102 quarry | |
n.采石场;v.采石;费力地找 | |
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103 shaft | |
n.(工具的)柄,杆状物 | |
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104 auxiliary | |
adj.辅助的,备用的 | |
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105 shafts | |
n.轴( shaft的名词复数 );(箭、高尔夫球棒等的)杆;通风井;一阵(疼痛、害怕等) | |
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106 undue | |
adj.过分的;不适当的;未到期的 | |
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107 mishap | |
n.不幸的事,不幸;灾祸 | |
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108 artillery | |
n.(军)火炮,大炮;炮兵(部队) | |
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109 hurling | |
n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的现在分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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110 fabric | |
n.织物,织品,布;构造,结构,组织 | |
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111 uprooting | |
n.倒根,挖除伐根v.把(某物)连根拔起( uproot的现在分词 );根除;赶走;把…赶出家园 | |
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112 riddled | |
adj.布满的;充斥的;泛滥的v.解谜,出谜题(riddle的过去分词形式) | |
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113 dome | |
n.圆屋顶,拱顶 | |
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114 rebounded | |
弹回( rebound的过去式和过去分词 ); 反弹; 产生反作用; 未能奏效 | |
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115 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
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116 wreckage | |
n.(失事飞机等的)残骸,破坏,毁坏 | |
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117 spurting | |
(液体,火焰等)喷出,(使)涌出( spurt的现在分词 ); (短暂地)加速前进,冲刺; 溅射 | |
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118 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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119 anarchists | |
无政府主义者( anarchist的名词复数 ) | |
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120 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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