WILLIAM LE QUEUX: 15 Dystopian Novels & Espionage Thrillers (Illustrated Edition). William Le Queux
passed the British outposts beyond Liberton, and ascended the Braid Hills to the headquarters.
The story he told the General commanding was at first looked upon as ludicrous. In the dim candlelight in the General's tent he certainly looked a disreputable derelict, his old and tattered clothes wet through, his hands cut by stones and bleeding, and his face half covered with mud. The three officers who were with the General laughed when he dashed in excitedly, and related the conversation he had overheard; yet when he subsequently went on to describe in detail what he had witnessed, and when they remembered that this tramp was an artilleryman who had long ago been conspicuous by his bravery at El Teb, and an ingenious inventor, their expression of amusement gave way to one of alarm.
The General, who had been writing, thoughtfully tapped the little camp table before him with his pen. "So they intend to destroy us and wreck the city by that means, now that their legitimate tactics have failed! I can scarcely credit that such is their intention; yet if they should be successful — if" —
"But they will not be successful, sir. If you will send some one to assist me, and allow me to act as I think fit, I will frustrate their dastardly design, and the city shall be saved."
"You are at liberty to act as you please. You know their plans, and I have perfect confidence in you, Mackenzie," replied the officer. "Do not, however, mention a word of the enemy's intention to any one. It would terrify the men; and although I do not doubt their bravery, yet the knowledge of such a horrible fate hanging over them must necessarily increase their anxiety, and thus prevent them from doing their best. We are weak, but remember we are all Britons. Now come," he added, "sit there, upon that box, and explain at once what is your scheme of defence against this extraordinary attack."
And the fearless man to whom the General had entrusted the defence of Edinburgh obeyed, and commenced to explain what means he intended to take — a desperate but well-devised plan, which drew forth words of the highest commendation from the commanding officer and those with him. They knew that the fate of Edinburgh hung in the balance, and that if the city were taken it would be the first step towards their downfall.
CHAPTER XXXI
"THE DEMON OF WAR"
Two hours later, just before the break of day, British bugles sounded, and the camp on the Braid Hills was immediately astir. That the enemy were about to test the efficiency of a new gigantic engine of war was unknown except to the officers and the brave man who had risked his life in order to obtain the secret of the foeman's plans.
To him the British General was trusting, and as with knit brows and anxious face the grey-haired officer stood at the door of his tent gazing across the burn to Blackford Hill, he was wondering whether he had yet obtained his coign of vantage. From the case slung round his shoulder he drew his field glasses and turned them upon a clump of trees near the top of the hill, straining his eyes to discover any movement.
On the crest of the hill two Volunteer artillery batteries were actively preparing for the coming fray, but as yet it was too dark to discern anything among the distant clump of trees; so, replacing his glasses, the commanding officer re-entered his tent and bent for a long time over the Ordnance Map under the glimmering, uncertain light of a guttering candle.
Meanwhile the Russians were busily completing their arrangements for striking an appalling blow.
Concealed by a line of trees and a number of farm buildings, the little section of the enemy had worked indefatigably for the past two hours, and now in the grey dawn the contents of the mysterious boxes, a long dark monster, lay upon the grass, moving restlessly, trying to free itself from its trammels.
It was a huge and curiously-shaped air-ship, and was to be used for dropping great charges of mélinite and steel bombs filled with picric acid into the handsome historic city of Edinburgh! Some of the shells were filled with sulphurous acid, carbon dioxide, and other deadly compounds, the intent being to cause suffocation over wide areas by the volatilisation of liquid gases!
This controllable electric balloon, a perfection of M. Gaston Tissandier's invention a few years before, was, as it lay upon the grass, nearly inflated and ready to ascend, elongated in form, and filled with hydrogen.
It was about 140 feet long, 63 feet in diameter through the middle, and the envelope was of fine cloth coated with an impermeable varnish. On either side were horizontal shafts of flexible walnut laths, fastened with silk belts along the centre, and over the balloon a netting of ribbons was placed, and to this the car was connected. On each of the four sides was a screw propeller 12 feet in diameter, driven by bichromate of potassium batteries and a dynamo-electric motor. The propellers were so arranged that the balloon could keep head to a hurricane, and when proceeding with the wind would deviate immediately from its course by the mere pulling of a lever by the aëronaut.
Carefully packed in the car were large numbers of the most powerful infernal machines, ingeniously designed to effect the most awful destruction if hurled into a thickly-populated centre. Piled in the smallest possible compass were square steel boxes, some filled with mélinite, dynamite, and an explosive strongly resembling cordite, only possessing twice its strength, each with fulminating compounds, while others contained picric acid fitted with glass detonating tubes. Indeed, this gigantic engine, which might totally wreck a city and kill every inhabitant in half an hour while at an altitude of 6½ miles, had rightly been named by the Pole who had perfected Tissandier's invention — "The Demon of War."
While the two officers of the Russian balloon section, both experienced aëronauts, were finally examining minutely every rope, ascertaining that all was ready for the ascent, away on Blackford Hill one man, pale and determined, with coat and vest thrown aside, was preparing a counterblast to the forthcoming attack. Under cover of the clump of trees, but with its muzzle pointing towards Bridgend, a long, thin gun of an altogether strange type had been brought into position. It was about four times the size of a Maxim, which it resembled somewhat in shape, only the barrel was much longer, the store of ammunition being contained in a large steel receptacle at the side, wherein also was some marvellously-contrived mechanism. The six gunners who were assisting Mackenzie at length completed their work, and the gun having been carefully examined by the gallant man in charge and two of the officers who had been in the tent with the General during the midnight consultation, Mackenzie, with a glance in the yet hazy distance where the enemy had bivouaced, pulled over a small lever, which immediately started a dynamo.
"In three minutes we shall be ready for action," he said, glancing at his watch; and then, turning a small wheel which raised the muzzle of the gun so as to point it at a higher angle in the direction of the sky, he waited until the space of time he had mentioned had elapsed.
The officers stood aside conversing in an undertone. This man Mackenzie had invented this strange-looking weapon, and only one had been made. It had some months before been submitted to the War Office, but they had declined to take it up, believing that a patent they already possessed was superior to it; yet Mackenzie had nevertheless thrown his whole soul into his work, and meant now to show his superiors its penetrative powers, and put its capabilities to practical test. Again he glanced at his watch, and quickly pulled back another lever, which caused the motor to revolve at twice the speed, and the gun to emit a low hissing sound, like escaping steam. Then he stepped back to the officers, saying —
"I am now prepared. It will go up as straight and quickly as a rocket, but we must catch it before it ascends two miles, for the clouds hang low, and we may lose it more quickly than we imagine."
The gunners stood in readiness, and the two officers looked away over Craigmillar towards the grey distant sea. Dawn was spreading now, and the haze was gradually clearing. They all knew the attempt would be made ere long, before it grew much lighter, so they stood at their posts in readiness, Mackenzie with his hand upon the lever which would regulate the discharge.
They were moments of breathless expectancy. Minute after minute went by, but not a word was spoken, for every eye was turned upon the crest of a certain ridge