WITHIN an hour the wondering inhabitants of Alexandria saw the Russian fleet rise a thousand feet into the air and form in two columns of line ahead. Then the Aerian fleet ranged itself in two long lines five hundred feet outside them and a thousand feet above them. A time-shell from the Ithuriel gave the signal to start, and the two fleets leapt forward to the south-east at a speed of a hundred miles an hour, and in a few minutes had vanished over the desert. The speed was quickly increased to two hundred miles, and so they sped on all day and through the next night—the Russian ships being forced to show their lights while the Aerians remained in darkness—until, when morning dawned and Olga and her captains looked for Alan’s fleet they found that it had vanished, and that they were floating alone over the solitudes of the Southern Ocean. They had been escorted like offending school children out of harm’s way, and then left to their own devices. It was a bitterly humiliating ending to an expedition which had really produced such important results, but there was no possibility of present revenge, and so Olga gave the order to proceed straight to Mount Terror, intending to begin there and then the working out of her part of the compact that she had made with the Sultan. This arrangement was briefly to the following effect:—Olga placed at Khalid’s disposal all the necessary plans for the construction The Sultan had engaged to find money and material for building a thousand air-ships, and the same number of submarine cruisers, within the year, and these were to be supplied with motive power at conversion-stations established at the dockyards under the exclusive control of certain of Olga’s lieutenants. The secret of this motive power, which was identical save for slight differences in the process of conversion with that possessed by the Aerians—that is to say, electrical energy derived directly from atomised carbon and vaporised petroleum—was retained in her own keeping by Olga, who had simply promised that an unlimited supply of it should be forthcoming as it was wanted. She had insisted on a strict engagement that no one not authorised by her should even approach the conversion-stations, and she had given the Sultan and his ministers distinctly to understand that any attempt to discover the secret of the process would terminate the alliance, and expose the cities of the Moslem empire to destruction. At the expiration of the year of truce, the Sultan’s army and navy, supported by the immense aerial fleet that would then be in existence, was to be in complete readiness for any emergencies. Olga was to be proclaimed Tsarina in Moscow, and the House of Romanoff formally restored in her person. If any portions of Russia refused to receive her, they were to be terrorised into submission by the air-ships. The tribesmen of Western and Central Asia were to be armed as rapidly as possible, so as to be ready to form a reserve force for compelling the submission of the Russians if they resisted the new order of things, and to participate in the invasion of Europe, which was to take place at several points as soon as Meanwhile, too, the resources of the dockyard at Mount Terror were to be strained to the utmost, and the conspiracy in Russia for the restoration of Olga to the throne of the Romanoffs was to be developed by every means that money could purchase or skill devise. The scheme of defence arranged by the Council of Aeria had already been completed, and it was to execute this that the Aerian fleet had left the Russian squadron during the night. Indeed, the Russians had been travelling southward alone for more than eight hours before they had discovered the fact. As soon as it became impossible for them to see the Aerian vessels these had stopped, in accordance with a prearranged plan, and had wheeled round and steered for London across the African continent at a height of about ten thousand feet. Flying at the full speed of the smaller vessels, a twenty-hour flight carried the fleet over the eight thousand miles which separated its starting-point from the capital of the world, and about six o’clock in the evening of the 21st of May the fifty-two vessels, flying the Aerian and British flags, appeared in the air over the open space which is now called Hyde Park, and, to the amazement of the astonished citizens, dropped quietly to the earth and lay open to the unrestricted inspection of the thousands who speedily gathered in the park to avail themselves of the unwonted spectacle, and to learn, if possible, the reason of the unexpected visit. No attempt was made by the crews of the ships to prevent the sightseers from seeing all they could of the exteriors of the vessels, which were arranged on the sward in two long lines, so that they could walk down between them and admire their beautiful shape and wonderful construction at their leisure. A sentry was stationed by each vessel to warn the sightseers not to approach too close to the wings and propellers, and that was the only precaution taken. Alan learnt soon after landing that King Albert the Second, the fourth in descent from Edward VII., who was King during He therefore caused a message to be sent to His Majesty at Windsor, requesting him to name a time for an interview on the following day, and then, sufficient watches having been set on all the vessels, he and Alexis, with the majority of the crews, took a few hours’ leave, not a little glad of the opportunity of stretching their legs on terra firma, after their three days’ confinement to the air-ships. The reply which he received from the King fixed eleven o’clock in the morning of the 22nd as the time of the interview for which he had asked, and, just as the castle clock was beginning to sound the strokes of the hour, the Ithuriel swept up out of the distance towards Windsor Castle, and, after hovering for a moment in mid-air, sank quietly down until she rested on that portion of the terrace which overlooks the Home Park. Her arrival had been announced to the King as soon as she hove in sight, and he was on the terrace ready to receive his visitors when she alighted. Albert II., King of England, Emperor of Britain, and President of the Anglo-Saxon Federation, was a monarch only in name. Nothing but the trappings of sovereignty remained to himself or his station, and he would not even have retained these had it not been for the fact that, during its hundred years of actual rule, the Supreme Council had insisted upon the maintenance of the monarchical principle in those countries where it had obtained at the end of the nineteenth century. The first formal greetings over, the King caused Alan to be escorted to his private apartments in the castle, and as soon as they were alone together in the room which he reserved for his own special use, he motioned Alan to a seat and, throwing himself back upon a lounge with an air of weariness which accorded but ill with the hour of the day, he said in a somewhat querulous tone— “We are quite alone now and you can speak with perfect freedom. I am sure it must be important business that has brought you here with a whole fleet of your air-ships, and I shall be glad if you will tell me at once what it is. I hope nothing has occurred to imperil our peace and safety?” “On the contrary, your Majesty,” replied Alan. “I regret to say that my errand is to tell you that, not only is that the case, but that it is a practical certainty that within twelve months from now the whole world will be plunged into war.” “What! what!” exclaimed the King, jerking himself up to a sitting posture. “Surely you don’t mean that? I thought that no war would be possible without the permission of your Council. Surely you would not allow the nations of the world to go to war with each other again, and repeat all the horrors that happened a hundred and thirty years ago?” “Your Majesty forgets that when we renounced the control of the world six years ago we gave back to the nations the right of making war upon each other, although we hardly believed that they would be foolish enough and wicked enough to exercise it. That, however, is beside the question, because war is now inevitable, and, what is even more important, the Council of Aeria is unhappily powerless to prevent it.” “Eh! what is that?” exclaimed the King, this time rising to his feet and facing Alan with an air of petulant reproach. “Powerless to prevent it? You, with all your fleets of air-ships and submarine vessels? You, who have called yourselves the masters of the world for nearly a century and a half—you cannot stop war?” “We cannot do so, your Majesty,” said Alan, also rising to his feet, “simply because I regret to say that we no longer possess the undisputed empire of the air, and therefore, in a measure at least, we have lost the command of the world. “As for the responsibility which your words impute to us, I must tell you at once that it does not exist. The rulers of the world, and yourself among them, voluntarily and with full knowledge accepted perfect freedom, and therefore the individual responsibility that is inseparable from it. You knew that from “It is your fault and not ours that you are now so defenceless that you have cause to fear the war against which you ask us to protect you. You have known for nearly four years that the Sultan of Islam has been creating armies and fleets, and diligently training millions of his subjects in that art of war which we hoped was to be forgotten for ever among men. “Did you suppose, you Kings and Princes of the Anglo-Saxon Federation, that Khalid the Magnificent, a man of boundless ambition, was creating these armies and fleets simply to play with them? Could you not see that nothing but some dream of world-wide conquest could be inspiring him to do this, and do you need to be told that the realms of Christendom offered him the only possible area of conquest in the world? “What have you done to defend yourselves, or to prepare against a possible day of battle? You have done nothing. Saving your international police, now little more than an ornamental body of officials, the Federation does not possess a single soldier. You have seen the Sultan building battleships and arming them with the deadliest weapons that skill and science could devise, and you, with all your wealth, and skill, and knowledge, have not built a single vessel that would be of use in time of war. “I understand that the Council has warned you again and again that the Sultan’s designs could not have been peaceable, and yet your Parliaments have not voted a single pound for the defence of your homes and your riches.” “Ah, yes!” broke in the King, now in an apologetic tone, for he was completely cowed by the direct, earnest force of Alan’s reproving words. “That is it! You must not blame myself or my fellow-monarchs, you must blame the Parliaments. We can do nothing without them; they have usurped all the power that formerly belonged to Kings. It is this democracy that has weakened us and left us defenceless. Every man thinks himself a ruler, and so there are no rulers, except in name. Every man has a vote, therefore every man must be “That is but a poor excuse, King Albert,” replied Alan sternly and yet somewhat sadly. “It is the old story of Greece and Rome and Byzantium over again. The weakness of the rulers has been the strength of the demagogues, and that has always spelt national decay from the days of Cleon until now. “I might ask you how it comes that Sultan Khalid has been able to keep his millions of subjects in hand and to be to-day the sole actual ruler of the greatest empire the world has ever seen; but neither you nor I have any more time to waste, either in reproaching each other or regretting what cannot now be helped.” “No, no!” said the King, almost appealingly. “That is quite right—quite right. Tell me, if you please, what has really happened to bring about this terrible danger which threatens us, and let us see if we cannot yet protect ourselves.” “You can yet make such preparations as will at least enable you to meet your enemies on equal terms,” replied Alan, following the King’s example, and seating himself again, “and it is to put before you a necessary scheme of defence that I have come here, and when I have described it you will see that we Aerians have not forgotten that our ancestors once led Anglo-Saxondom to the conquest of the world.” “Pray proceed,” said the King, sitting up on his lounge again. “I can assure you that I am all attention.” Alan then began, and told in detail all that was necessary for the King to know of what had happened during the last six years, concluding with a graphic narrative of startling vividness of the marvellous and momentous events that had been crowded so thickly into the last twenty-one days. It would not be saying too much to state that the close of the recital, which he had listened to with the most anxious attention, left King Albert in a state of nervous excitement that bordered closely upon absolute panic. He had heard enough to show him that the splendid fabric of Anglo-Saxon civilisation would, if left in its present defenceless state, totter and fall like a house of cards at the first onslaught of its powerful and disciplined enemies. He saw that its wealth and splendour, like those of the effete empires of old, were a source of weakness and not of strength, a temptation to its foes and an encumbrance to itself. Then, as Alan went on to describe the scheme of defence proposed by the Council of Aeria, he seemed to find support and consolation in the quiet, masterful tones of the man who, without a tremor in his voice, could calmly discuss the prospect of a war which would involve the whole of humanity in one colossal struggle, which could have no other result than an indescribably appalling loss of human life and the complete subjection, if not destruction, of those who were vanquished in it. Yet when he had finished King Albert shook his head sadly and doubtfully, and said— “Yes, yes, it is a splendid scheme, a scheme worthy of you and your wonderful race, but it can only be accomplished if our Parliaments agree together to sanction it and support it. I hope with all my heart that they will do so, but I sadly fear that not even your influence, and the fearful danger which threatens them, will make them agree one with another. “Of late years, since the power of the democracy has increased so enormously, they wrangle for weeks over the smallest matters of municipal government. As for national policy, they seem to have forgotten what it means. I may be wrong, and with all my soul I hope I am, but I sadly fear they will never consent to what they will call a military despotism, even to save themselves. The elections take place during the last four days of this month, and by that time the news that you have brought me shall be published everywhere, so that “Ah,” interrupted Alan, stroking his beard to conceal a smile, “I had forgotten for the moment. You have lady legislators now as well as male ones. We were ungallant enough to refuse them admittance to the Parliament during our period of control.” “Yes,” said the King, with a smile that had but little mirth in it. “But we have progressed fast since then. In our Parliament men and women were almost equally balanced in both Chambers, and scarcely any business was done during the year.” “Which proves,” said Alan, “that what was called our discourtesy and unfairness was not so very unwise after all.” The interview ended shortly after this remark, for the time for action had already arrived. Alan had learnt enough from the King’s own lips to see that he was merely a crowned puppet in the hands of the rival parties, which contended in both Chambers for the favour of the democracy and the continuance of office. He therefore saw further that, if anything was to be done in working out the scheme of international defence, he would have to take the initiative. As full discretion had been given to him in his commission from the Council of Aeria, he did not scruple to half-persuade and half-frighten the King into investing him with such authority as he could give, and, armed with this, he went to work that very day with a vigour and promptness which amazed the feeble monarch, and raised a storm of indignation among the members of the two Chambers who were seeking re-election. A very short experience of these people proved to him that nothing must be hoped from them. Day after day he met committees and deputations of them, who argued with him and wrangled among themselves until he was utterly disgusted and out of patience with them. At last, on the evening of the 27th, after he had spent the “We have talked enough, ladies and gentlemen! I came here expecting to find the old spirit of Anglo-Saxondom still alive, and so far as you are concerned I find it dead. You are not patriots or competent rulers. You are simply members of a noisy and verbose debating society! When absolute destruction at the hands of a well-armed and implacable foe is threatening your country and your allies, you talk of averting the calamity by discussion and arbitration, instead of armed resistance. By all means discuss and arbitrate, if you can, but also prepare for battle in case it proves, as I am certain it will prove, to be inevitable. Do you suppose that the lamb can argue with the wolf, or that the rich and defenceless man can save his wealth from the armed plunderer by mere force of argument or an appeal to his moral sense? If you do, you are something worse than simple, you are guilty of a folly which is a crime against those who have committed their affairs to your keeping. “But I, like most of my people, have Anglo-Saxon blood in my veins, and I will not leave my kindred defenceless. I bear an English name, and that name and my descent shall be my title to do what I now tell you I am going to do. In my own person, and with the full authority and sanction of the Council of Aeria and your own lawful monarch, I here and now reassert the supremacy over the realms of Anglo-Saxondom which my father resigned in St. Paul’s Cathedral six years and a half ago! Hold your elections if you choose, and conduct your noisy pretence at government according to your own tastes, but do not expect me to be guided or bound by any enactments that you may choose to make. You may call this a revolution if you will. So it is, but remember that your foolishness has made “I believe that the old spirit which won the Armageddon of 1904 still survives in Anglo-Saxon breasts, and I believe that it will respond to the call to arms which shall be heard throughout the length and breadth of the Federation before another sun has set. To-morrow I shall take possession of the means of intercommunication, and I warn you that you will oppose me at your peril. “You know that I have a force at command before which you are as helpless as the worms that crawl in the earth, and as there is a heaven above me I will use it without ruth or scruple if I see that the interests of Anglo-Saxondom require me to do so. You have your choice, to act with me or to remain neutral. Oppose me, and I will destroy you as traitors and enemies to your country and your race!” So saying, Alan turned his back upon the committees, and strode out of the room in which he had met them, leaving them speechless with anger and dismay. |