The Zeppelin Destroyer: Being Some Chapters of Secret History

Chapter Twenty Three

The “L39.”

Having taken Colonel and Mrs Cator into our confidence, and they having invited Roseye to stay with them, we were all, on the following day, duly installed at Swalecliffe Park.

Without delay I called upon the officer in charge of the listening-post – the whereabouts of which I do not intend to disclose – and, to my joy, found that he was a man named Moncrieff whom I had met many times at Hendon, and also at the club.

Having told him of my intention to have a “go” at the next enemy airship that might come over, he readily promised that upon receiving the next alarm, he would make a point of ringing me up at Swalecliffe.

Then, with the machine in readiness and already tested and re-tested, and also with a full petrol-tank, there was nothing further to do but to draw it out into the park each night, and await the alarm.

It was on the first day of March when we had come down in Swalecliffe Park as strangers – on a Wednesday I remember – and the following days had been fully occupied with our preparations, while throughout each night Teddy and I, ready dressed for flight, sat in the colonel’s study wherein the telephone was installed.

Thursday night passed quite uneventfully. During the earlier hours the colonel and Roseye sat with us, but the barometer being low, and the weather gusty, we had, even at ten o’clock, decided that no Zeppelin would risk crossing the North Sea.

On Friday night the four of us played bridge till half-past four, the Theeds being, of course, on duty outside. We had the consolation of knowing that, though the Invisible Hand might be searching for us, it had not yet discovered our place of concealment. Each evening we tested the telephone – through the local exchange – out to the listening-post, and each evening Moncrieff, who was in charge, answered cheerily:

“Don’t fear, old chap, I’ll give you a ring as soon as anything is going on.”

Saturday, the fourth of March, was bright and warm, but just before sunset a sharp easterly breeze sprang up and, with a falling barometer, we knew that our vigilance would remain unrewarded. So again we played bridge until Roseye grew sleepy and then retired. Certainly we did not appear to meet with any luck.

On Sunday morning we all went to the pretty little church of Swalecliffe, and in the afternoon I went out for a pleasant stroll with Roseye through the park and leafless woods.

Again I pressed her to reveal to me what she knew regarding that mysterious woman who was in association with the fellow Eastwell.

But once again she steadfastly declined to reveal anything.

“No, no!” she protested. “Please don’t ask me, Claude.”

“But surely I have a right to know!” I declared. “Your enemies are mine; and we are fighting them together. We have agreed to marry, Roseye, therefore you may surely trust me with your secret!”

I had halted at a stile before crossing our path leading into the wood, and, as I held her hand in mine, I looked straight into her big blue eyes.

She drew a long breath, and her gaze wavered. I saw that she now relented, and that she was unable to refute my argument.

I pressed her hand and, in a deep, earnest voice, urged:

“Tell me darling. Do tell me?”

Again her chest heaved and fell beneath her furs.

“Well, Claude. It’s – it’s a strange story – as strange as any woman has ever lived to tell,” she said at last, with great hesitation and speaking very slowly. “On that morning when I left I received a letter purporting to come from you, and urging me to meet you in secret on the departure platform of the Great Northern station at King’s Cross. Naturally, much puzzled, I went there, wondering what had happened. While waiting, a woman – the woman you have seen – came up to me and told me that you had sent her – that you wished to see me in secret in connexion with your invention, but that you were in hiding because you feared that some spies intended to obtain knowledge of the truth. She said that there were enemy spies on every hand, and that it would be best to go over to the hotel, and there wait till night before we went North to Grantham, whither you had gone.”

“Grantham!” I echoed. “I’ve not been in Grantham for years.”

“But I believed that you were there, so plausible was the woman’s story,” she replied. “We left at night, travelling in a first-class compartment together. On the way, I suddenly suspected her. Somehow I did not like the look in those strange eyes of hers, and I accused her of deceiving me. Indeed, while dozing, I had seen her carefully take my chatelaine, put something into it, and drop it out of the window. We were in a tunnel, I believe.”

“Then it was that woman who put the cipher-message into your card-case!” I exclaimed. “Yes, go on.”

“Yes,” she replied. “I sprang up, and tried to pull the communication-cord as we came out of the tunnel, but she prevented me. She pushed a sponge saturated with some pungent-smelling liquid into my face, and then I knew nothing more until I found myself in a small room in a cottage somewhere remote in the country.”

“Then you were detained there – eh?”

“Yes. Forcibly. That awful woman tried, by every means in her power, to force or induce me to reveal the details of the experiments which you and Teddy were making at Gunnersbury. But I refused. Ah! how that hell-fiend tortured me day after day!

“She nearly drove me mad by those fearful ordeals which, in a hundred ways, she put upon me – always promising to release me if I would but reveal details of what we had discovered. But I refused – refused always, Claude – because I knew that she was an enemy, and victory must be ours if I remained silent. Days – those terrible days – passed – so many that I lost count of them – yet I knew that the woman with the cruel eyes of a leopard had dosed me with some drug that sapped my senses, and she held me irrevocably in her power, prompted no doubt by somebody who meant to work evil also upon you. In the end I must have lost my reason. I think she must have given me certain drugs in order to confuse me as to the past. Then, one day, I found myself in the town of Grantham, inquiring for the station. I was in a maid’s clothes, and in them I eventually returned to you. And you – Claude – you know all the rest.” And she burst into a torrent of tears.

“Yes,” I said slowly. “And that blackguard Lionel Eastwell is the man who has directed all this intricate and dastardly intrigue against us.”

Then I took my love into my arms, and pressing her to me, soothed her tears with my passionate kisses.

What she had revealed to me amazed me.

In the evening, just after the Sunday-night supper, Benton, the fat old butler, entered the drawing-room and, approaching me, said:

“Mr Moncrieff is on the telephone, sir.”

I sprang up with alacrity and, a few seconds later, spoke to my friend at the listening-post.

“You there, Munro?” he asked. “We’ve just had a message to say that three Zeppelins are crossing the North Sea in the direction of the Norfolk coast.”

“Right!” I said, and shut off at once. There was no time to lose.

In a moment I told them of the alarm. Without much delay Teddy and I slipped into our air-kit, while Theed, with the machine wheeled out into the park, reported that all was in readiness.

I met Roseye in the corridor above the central staircase of the great old-world house, and there kissed her fondly.

“For your dear sake I go, and for the sake of my King and country!” I whispered. “Good-bye, my darling. Keep a stout heart until you hear of me again!”

“But – oh! – oh! – I fear, Claude!” she cried anxiously, clinging to me.

“No, my darling. We must, to-day, all make sacrifices. There must be no fear. I shall be back with you to-morrow.”

And then again I kissed her and disengaged those loving, clinging arms about me.

Five minutes later Teddy and I were away in the air.

The night was dull and overcast with a promise of clearing – yet bitterly cold.

Of course with our big engine roaring we could hear nothing of the enemy’s approach, but I deemed it wise to rise high and, at the same time, to follow the railway line from Colchester towards London, because that, no doubt, was the route which the airships would follow.

The alarm had been given, trains being darkened and brought to a standstill, station and signal-lights extinguished and towns blotted out, I quickly lost sight of the railway track and could only go very slowly to save petrol in case of a chase, and guide myself by my compass.

From a town somewhere on the coast I could see the long scintillating beams of a searchlight striking across the dark night sky, first directed in one quarter and then in another. I think it must have been the searchlight on the coast at T – .

I saw Teddy was busy adjusting the Lewis machine-gun at his side as we climbed rapidly in the pitch darkness. The engine raced and hummed and the wind shrieked weirdly around us.

I switched on the bulb over the instruments, in order to look at my altimeter, but so dark was it that the light got into my eyes and I was compelled to shut it off again.

I flew in a wide circle at first, steadily climbing until the few faint twinkling lights below had disappeared entirely. We were getting nearer and nearer the Zeppelin altitude.

Ah! how the engine throbbed and roared.

Suddenly something black shot up close to me, rushing on as quickly as an express train. So suddenly did it rise up against me, that it gave me quite a start. It seemed a great, unholy thing, and quite shapeless.

It was another aeroplane, like ourselves, out to destroy the enemy airship with bombs. And by Jove! we narrowly avoided a nasty collision.

A second later we heard the loud report of a gun. Our anti-aircraft gunners had spotted their quarry somewhere in the vicinity. A moment afterwards upon our left, straight before us, two long beams of searchlight shot out, and then a sharp volley from the guns.

They were possibly five miles distant, and in the direction of London – somewhere near Brentwood I thought.

Bang! bang! – bang! we could hear, even above the throb of our powerful engine. Teddy turned on the second engine, and then opened up the searchlight, sweeping it around before us. But we could see nothing save some thin filmy clouds.

Suddenly the searchlights from below went out, and the guns ceased. With one eye upon the altimeter I peered over, hoping to pick up some landmark, but I could find absolutely none.

That a Zeppelin was in the vicinity was certain. I tried to keep as cool as I possibly could, but I confess that at that moment it was difficult.

I cruised about, knowing that I was now nearing the London area.

Suddenly, deep below, yet some miles ahead, I saw a blood-red flash. The Zeppelin had dropped a bomb!

Again I switched on the little light, and a glance at my altimeter showed that I was up eleven thousand feet, therefore I pushed straight along in the direction of that red glare.

That it was an incendiary one I saw, because the flare continued far down in the misty workaday world below.

The Zeppelin was executing its evil work upon the harmless civilian inhabitants.

I craned and peered around on all sides, but could see nothing else – only the glare from the incendiary fire.

The night was rapidly growing brighter, and we could see the stars. Again we heard a violent cannonade, and once more half a dozen beams of searchlights swept the sky from several points evidently much nearer to London. More than once the searchlights picked us up and examined us with suspicion, blinding us with their glare the while.

Once more from below there came up two loud detonations – high explosive bombs – yet we could see no Zeppelin, though we peered into the darkness again as soon as the searchlight left us.

Blinded by the glare, I had banked a little too steeply, and nearly had another bad nose-dive. Teddy noticed it, and said something, but what it was I could not hear for the roar. That an enemy airship was about, and that it had dropped incendiary bombs was proved by the three or four red glares we could distinctly see beneath us.

No doubt the Zeppelin was moving fast, dropping her bombs preparatory to rising and escaping beyond the zone of our anti-aircraft guns. I rose higher, but still no sign of it. Apparently the searchlights, having once located it, had again lost it, for once more all the guns were silent.

I began to lose heart. How horribly cold it was!

I was now over London, unless I was much mistaken. Several other of our bomb-dropping aeroplanes were circling below me, also unable to find the Zeppelin.

Suddenly Teddy gave me a sharp nudge and pointed upward.

I glanced in the direction he indicated, and there saw the great long dark hull of the airship hovering quite near us.

We were then over eight thousand feet up, and the airship was perhaps another thousand feet higher. I could distinguish its two gondolas, and as we passed near its stern its fins and planes were now plainly silhouetted against the bright, steely sky.

With all speed possible I shot upward, but apparently the commander of the Zeppelin had discovered us, while at that very same moment a searchlight from somewhere below picked him up and revealed him, a huge silvery object, upon the side of which was painted in black a large iron-cross, the Hun badge of frightfulness, together with initial and number “L39.”

Scarcely had I become aware of the close proximity of the enemy when I saw a little spurt of red flare from the forward gondola. It continued for several moments, and I knew that it was a machine-gun spitting forth its leaden hail upon us.

Therefore I drew away and rose still higher, while, next second, the propellers of the monster airship began to whirr and it started away, nose upward and due east, evidently upon its homeward journey.

Unfortunately the men manning our searchlights below kept one of their beams upon us as well as another upon the Zeppelin, and I must confess that both Teddy and I, in our excitement, consigned them to a place with an atmosphere slightly warmer than the one we were at that moment experiencing. It seemed as though the anti-aircraft gunners, knowing the airship to be now out of range, were seized by a sudden curiosity to see what we were doing chasing the Zeppelin away as we gradually rose above it.

Ah! Shall I ever forget those exciting moments! Time after time the machine-gun on the monster airship fired upon us, but I was flying in such a manner that to hit us would, I knew, be difficult. Yet just then a stray bullet struck one of my planes and went through it, while a second later another tore through the casing of the fuselage.

The commander of the Zeppelin thought, no doubt, that our intention was to rise and drop a bomb upon him, and he was now travelling very quickly in order to try and outpace us. In this, however, he did not succeed.

How far we travelled I have no idea. In those moments I lost all sense of time and of distance. I only know that, though so high, I could distinguish the Thames with its few dotted lights about, though we were rapidly leaving London behind.

We were passing over Essex, for I could plainly see the Thames widening upon my right, and I was gradually overhauling the enemy.

At that moment I steadied myself, for I knew that the smallest slip would mean death to us both. At signal from me Teddy – who had already had the dynamo running for some time – placed his hand upon the switch which controlled the unseen, but deadly current.

Slowly I crept nearer and nearer. Four thousand yards off – three thousand – another spurt – then I judged I was only two thousand yards away. Yet try how I would, I could get no nearer.

Again I set to work and, letting out my roaring engines to their full power, I slowly decreased the space between the fleeing monster and myself, Teddy still awaiting my signal.

Next instant I saw yet another spurt of fire from the rear gondola of the Zeppelin, and felt a hot, burning sensation in my forearm.

Then I knew that I had been hit!

I nudged Teddy, and he nodded. He understood and with the end of the box in which was the large, lens something like a camera, directed full upon the enemy, he pulled over the switch.

The result was appalling.

Next instant there was a blinding flash as the electric sparks flying from point to point all over the metal framework of the Zeppelin ignited the hydrogen; a huge red burst of flame came from the centre of the great airship, and following it was a terrific explosion, the frightful force of which would have turned us completely over had I not been prepared.

I swerved quickly, in order to get out of the vicinity, for the danger at that instant was very great.

Then, as I glanced aside, I saw the huge monster plunge down to earth, ablaze and flaring like a huge torch.

A second terrific explosion of bombs occurred when it reached the ground, and the whole country-side, shaken as though by an earthquake, became instantly illuminated for miles around.

Appalled at the sight, and yet relieved of the terrible tension, we both looked down and found that the enemy airship had, fortunately, fallen upon some flat land without houses – a wide, lonely marsh it appeared to be.

I at once dropped to a thousand feet and then, with a final glance at our work of destruction, turned tail and set about finding a landmark.

It was difficult, but I discovered one at last and, half an hour later, finding old Theed’s flares in Swalecliffe Park, gently planed again to earth.

Need I detail the congratulations showered upon Teddy and myself; of Roseye’s delight, or of her parent’s enthusiasm next day? Indeed, it seemed as though the world about us – our little world who knew the truth of our night-exploit – had gone mad with joy.

On the following day I reported personally to the authorities, and afterwards had a long conference with certain high officials, who listened most intently to the description of my apparatus, and who heartily congratulated both Teddy and myself.

That same night, indeed, my description being but superficial, experts came down with me to Swalecliffe, where the apparatus was thoroughly and satisfactorily tested, and declared to be an air-defence of the highest importance, and one which must soon prove our superiority against the Zeppelin menace.

It was, I felt, my duty to reveal in the proper quarter the dastardly attempts made upon all three of us by our enemies, directed by the man Eastwell, who I feared knew something of our secret, whereupon orders were at once given to the Special Branch of Scotland Yard for his arrest under the Defence of the Realm Act.

Two officers ascended to his rooms in Albemarle Street an hour later, but when he learnt they were detectives he dashed into his bedroom and, without hesitation and before they could prevent him, shot himself.

Sir Herbert has now given his consent to Roseye’s marriage “directly after the war,” and as for myself – well, I have been given an important post – with Teddy, of course, as my co-worker. We are working hard day and night in construction of certain heavy brown deal boxes, the secret of which the enemy in our midst is straining every nerve to discover.

The only mention of the missing airship was a telegram published in the London newspapers on March 12, 1916, and which can be turned up in the files by any curious reader. I here give it in facsimile: —

The Hague, March 11. – Private information received from Cologne says that one of the Zeppelins which dropped bombs recently in England has not yet returned. It is believed that the airship was wrecked. – Central News.