CHAPTER VII
THE BATTLEPLANE'S OFFICIAL DEBUT
WITHOUT speaking a word Desmond Blake approached his prisoner andregarded him intently. For a full minute he kept his eyes fixed uponthe German, who at first seemed indifferent to the attention paidhim.
Presently the spy began to shift uneasily under the searchingscrutiny. Try as he would to avoid the penetrating look he foundhimself unable to withstand the seemingly mesmeric influence. Hiswhole attitude was that of a dog cowed solely by the severity of itsmaster's gaze.
"What is your name?" demanded Blake, breaking the strained silence.
"Sigismund Selighoffer," replied the spy in a strangely subduedvoice.
"A native of Germany?"
"Of Halle."
"A spy?"
"Yes." The answer was given with considerable hesitation. It was theman speaking in spite of his inclination to maintain silence anddiscretion.
"You stole my plans. Where are they?"
"It was my employer, Karl von Secker, who took the plans. We werehere last night. He went away yesterday, taking the plans with him;but before he went he gave me orders to destroy this machine."
"You know where he is?"
"On my honour, no. He could not tell me. Perhaps he will make his wayback to Germany. It is easy for him to do so."
Blake asked several more questions, not once shifting his eyes fromthe thoroughly cowed Hun.
"Very good," he concluded. "In a few hours' time you will be handedover to the authorities for trial. If it be any satisfaction to you Imight add that you will be the first German--and I hope the last--toset foot on this battleplane."
He turned and went for'ard. Directly his back was turned the spybroke into a torrent of oaths, defying his captors and revilinghimself for having given away so much information.
Blake merely shrugged his shoulders.
"Simply the triumph of a strong mind over a weak one," he explainedto the lads. "Herr Selighoffer is merely a pawn in the game--a toolof the more dangerous von Secker. Had we no other and more urgentwork in hand it would be a delightful task to run von Secker toearth. Man-hunting is, from my personal knowledge, one of thegreatest thrills a criminologist can experience. Once I had to tracka Brazilian desperado across miles of country--but that story canwait. We must trust the recovery of the plans to the authorities.Now, lads, the pair of you had better turn in again. I'll keep watch,although I don't anticipate any further trouble from prowling Huns.It would be just as well to keep an eye upon that slippery customer,Sigismund."
The rest of the night passed without interruption. At seven the ladsarose, bathed and had breakfast; by eight-thirty the battleplane wasready for her flight to London.
"Better thirty minutes too early than thirty seconds too late,"remarked Dick.
"H'm! perhaps in this case," rejoined Athol. "Do you remember thatmorning in the trenches facing the Menin road? We were both a littletardy in turning out to breakfast."
"And what happened?" asked Blake.
"Nothing as far as we were concerned," replied Dick. "Except that wehad no breakfast that morning. A shell had landed close to the stewpot and the men with their rations were blown to bits. It was a caseof Nah Pooh with them."
Without a hitch the battleplane was brought from the hangar, herwings extended and the motors set running. It had now ceased snowing,and although the ground was still covered with a mantle of white,there seemed every prospect of a fine day.
Making a splendid ascent the machine quickly attained an altitude oftwelve thousand feet, and a compass course was shaped to due east.Blake had a definite object in flying high. The air was sufficientlyclear to distinguish prominent landmarks, but at that altitude therewas hardly any possibility of the battleplane being seen from theearth. He wanted to make his arrival as dramatic and sudden aspossible.
"We're touching one hundred and eighty miles an hour now," announcedthe inventor. "Could do another twenty with ease if we wished. We'llromp there hands down."
"Why this easterly course?" asked Dick, who, having for the timebeing finished with the motors, had taken his place close to thepilot. "This will land us somewhere in Norfolk if we carry on."
"Only till we pick up the North-Western main line," replied Blake."There's nothing like a railway to help you to fix a position. Inconjunction with a good map a railway lets you know where you arealmost to a mile."
Forty-seven minutes from the time the battleplane left the ground adull haze upon the horizon indicated that the metropolis was insight. Quickly the intervening distance was covered, until at aheight of two thousand feet the airmen were immediately over theThames.
"Good enough!" declared Blake, at the same time locking the wings.Although the motors were still running they were acting merely as"free engines," ready to be coupled up to the wings in a case ofemergency. For the rest of the distance the battleplane was to glideunder the attraction of gravity.
Unerringly Blake brought the battleplane towards the gravelledexpanse of the Horse Guards Parade. Save for a few persons hurryingacross the place was almost deserted. Evidently there was no signthat the aviators were expected. Either the telegram had been delayedor the War Office officials had considered it a hoax.
Suddenly Blake coupled up the wing-mechanism. The beating of thewings caused several of the pedestrians to look skywards. For asecond or so they seemed hardly able to credit their senses.Aeroplanes they knew, but the huge mechanical bird astonished them.Right and left they scattered, leaving the parade as deserted as aSiberian plain.
Making a faultless landing the battleplane came to rest. Blake,throwing back the wind screen, awaited developments.
In less than five minutes the machine was surrounded by thousands ofcurious spectators. It took all the efforts of a strong force ofpolice and soldiers to keep the crowd back.
A way having been cleared through the press a group of military staffofficers came up. Amongst them Blake recognised a tall, alert figurein the uniform of a major-general.
"Good morning, Sir Henry!" he exclaimed. "You see I have carried outmy promise. Come on board, if you please."
Agilely Sir Henry swarmed up the ladder.
"A top-hole fellow," said Blake to his companions during theofficer's progress. "One of the few who were at least sympatheticwhen I first submitted my plans."
"By Jove, Blake!" exclaimed the newcomer, as, slightly breathless, hegained the interior of the fuselage. "This is rather unexpected."
"I warned you," replied the inventor.
"You did, but, pardon my saying so, I was sceptical."
"But not to the extent of some of your colleagues," added Blake witha tinge of irony. "However, that's done with. Here is thebattleplane. I formally offer her to the Government. But before we gofarther. Do you know that there is a German spy here--actually withinthe precincts of the War Office?"
"Good heavens, no!" replied Sir Henry in astonishment. "How do youknow that?"
"Optical proof," replied Blake. "If you'll come aft I'll show you."
Briefly the circumstances under which Sigismund Selighoffer wascaptured were stated, and in a very few minutes the spy was takenfrom the battleplane and marched off under escort.
"Now as far as I am concerned I hope I'll hear no more about thatfellow," commented Blake. "My time is too precious to waste inattending courts-martial. All the same I should be particularlypleased to hear that von Secker, the spy's accomplice--or rather,employer--is run to earth. These fellows pay considerably moreattention to outside inventions than does the British Government, I'msorry to say. But let me show you round. Oh, yes, there's room for afew more," he added as three or four staff officers shouted out forpermission to come on board.
With them was one of the civil staff of the War Office. Blake eyedhim with a grim smile, for he was the man who had been so prominentin cold-shouldering the inventor but a few months previously.
"Yes, we should like to witness a flight," replied Sir Henry inanswer to Blake's proposition.
"This ability to ascend almostperpendicularly must be a unique, I might say, rather ingeniousproperty. No, I don't think I will accompany you this trip... anothertime, perhaps."
One by one the staff officers filed through the aperture in the floorof the fuselage and descended to the ground, amidst the plaudits ofthe crowd. The civilian official was the last to leave, when Blaketouched him on the shoulder.
"You remember me?" he asked.
"Of course, of course I do," replied the man pompously. "I neverforget faces. You will doubtless recollect that during our formerinterview I expressed my opinion----"
"That an ounce of fact is worth a pound of theory," rejoined Blake."In the circumstances the remark was uncalled for."
"But in my position one has to look for results," stammered the mannervously, for Blake had fixed him with that disconcerting look thathad so effectually cowed the spy.
"The result is here," declared the inventor. "You are now going toaccompany us for a spin. You are not afraid?"
If he were afraid the official was doubly afraid to admit it. Henodded his head.
"Good!" exclaimed Blake approvingly, as he closed the hatchway at hisfeet. "Start her up, Dick. Open the exhaust full out. A little noisewill shift the crowd."
Dick obeyed, using the "cut-out." Instead of the engines purringalmost noiselessly they roared like the concentrated discharge of abattery of mitrailleuses. Then, with a mighty sweep of her wings thebattleplane appeared to stand on end. The next instant she wassoaring swiftly above the dirty grey stone work of the buildings ofthe Horse Guards.
The passenger seated in the balanced chair, and seeing the body ofthe machine turning apparently around a fixed axis, was tooastonished even to ejaculate. At length, encouraged by the cooldemeanour of Dick and his chum, the official plucked up courage, and,the battleplane having settled down to a steady position, peered overthe edge of the coaming.
It was his first sight of London from a height of three thousandfeet. He was beginning to enjoy the sensation.
Up and down, describing erratic curves, nose-diving, volplaning andside-slipping with deliberate intent, Desmond Blake carried out hisspectacular and demonstrative programme. At one moment it seemed asif the battleplane was diving under the Admiralty Arch; at almost thenext it was skimming the aerials on the twin domes of theheadquarters of the British Navy. Spinning round, almost on the tipof one wing, the tractable machine circled Nelson's Monument, as ifto pay homage to the memory of the one-armed little man whosetraditions the Navy of to-day so gallantly uphold. Then, at a rateequal to double that of an express train, the battleplane disappearedfrom view, to circle over the Nore at a height far beyond the rangeof the most efficient anti-aircraft guns that the Medway Defencespossessed.
Fifteen minutes later the battleplane again came to rest on the HorseGuards Parade. Her passenger, almost speechless with unboundedadmiration, did not hesitate to make his amends.
Nor was Sir Henry less enthusiastic.
Gripping Blake's hand as the inventor descended from the battleplanehe exclaimed, "Bravo! my dear sir; your aeroplane is simply great.But why the deuce did you make such a show with it? By to-night allthe world will know about it."
Desmond Blake shrugged his shoulders.
"It was the only way," he replied. "Nothing else would have attractedthe attention of the War Office."
"You certainly have now," said Sir Henry with a smile. "Suppose weadjourn to my office. I'll summon my colleagues and we can discussterms."
"There are no terms to discuss," objected the inventor. "Thebattleplane belongs to the Empire unconditionally."