"A few more days won’t matter," began Kenyon; but before he could proceed with his explanation the alarm bell rang violently and continuously.
"What’s wrong now?" exclaimed Fosterdyke, snatching up the voice tube.
Peter, glancing aft through the window of the navigation-room, which being raised gave a clear view over the roof of the rest of the nacelle, saw at once what was amiss.
Dense volumes of smoke, tinged with dull red flames, were pouring from the after-end of the fuselage. Fanned by the rush of the airship, the black vapour was streaming in its wake like a fox’s tail.
Leaving Kenyon to take charge of the navigation-room, and cautioning him to keep the "Golden Hind" dead in the eye of the wind, and as fast as she could possibly go, Fosterdyke and Peter hastened aft.
They found the alley-way thick with smoke, for on the well-known principle that "the wind follows the ship" the draught was carrying the fumes within the nacelle in a forward direction.
A man wearing a smoke helmet brushed past them. It was Hayward going to find some fire-extinguishers. Others of the crew, who had hastily donned masks to protect themselves from the choking vapour, were busily engaged in hurling pyrene into the seat of the conflagration.
Although the speed of the "Golden Hind" through the air fanned the flames, Fosterdyke had done well to order speed to be maintained. The velocity had the effect of compelling the fire to trail astern instead of spreading upwards and thus destroying the envelope. Even as it was the heat had caused the non-inflammable brodium to expand, giving the envelope a tendency to trim down by the head.
"Petrol tank to No. 5 motor, sir," reported a grimy and perspiring mechanic, who through sheer exhaustion and being partly gassed by the noxious fumes had to withdraw from the fray. "Went up all of a sudden, like. Never saw such a flare up in all my life, sir; but we’re getting it under."
It was indeed a stiff fight. In a few seconds the area of the fire had attained such large dimensions that it was impossible to reach the actual source. The fire-fighters had first to subdue the fringe of the conflagration, and by the time they had done this several of them were _hors de combat_ by reason of the suffocating gases thrown off by the oxygen-exterminating pyrene. Above the crackling of the flames came the sharp tang of the suspension wires holding the nacelle to the aluminium envelope as they parted under the terrific heat.