“Did you hear of the balloon attack?” continued our communicative informant.
“No,” we replied in unison, deeply interested.
“Well, some time after midnight, the thought occurred to Bates, the aëronaut, that this aëronef might possibly be fought in her own element. In the grounds of the Military Exhibition in South Kensington was the balloon used for visitors’ ascents. Providing himself with a rifle and three well-charged bombs—a terribly risky thing no doubt, but look at the emergency!—he had the silk inflated, and, the wind suiting, rose up steadily, meaning to get above his opponent, and, if possible, shatter her with his missiles. Unfortunately the blaze rushing up from a newly-fired group of mansions revealed the daring aëronaut. It was a pretty, if a terrible picture—the little balloon drifting up towards the mighty aëronef in the glow of those blazing roofs.”
“No, poor fellow. A journalist who was below with a night-glass says that he never had even a chance. One of the men on the deck of the aëronef pulled out a revolver and fired, and the balloon, pierced through and through, at once began to descend rapidly. On its reaching the ground with a shock in Earl’s Court Road, the bombs exploded, and the car and its plucky occupant were shattered to pieces.”
[Illustration: THE BALLOON NEVER HAD A CHANCE.]
“Poor chap. A wild attempt, but rats in a hole cannot be particular,” said old Northerton.
Thanking our informant heartily we moved hastily on, both eager to see something of the movements of the terrible vessel.
The landing of the four men did not perplex me for long; Schwartz, as I knew, had been prepared to descend. But why four in this enterprise for which one alone had been originally told off?
The solution which suggested itself to me was this. Despite the devastation he had caused, Hartmann was very dissatisfied with the result. His vast outlay of material had not effected the ruin of one-fifth part of the great city, while in all probability the resources of the _Attila_ were becoming somewhat strained. Relatively to her size these resources were undoubtedly slender, and it was requisite, accordingly, to devise some new and less costly mode of attack. Of the lull in the work of the incendiaries Hartmann must have got wind, but not knowing the cause of it, and anxious to secure a redoubled activity below—now so indispensable to his success—he had despatched four of the crew to fan their energies into fury. That their efforts would be futile was now certain enough; the problematical part of the affair was the supposition that they would ever get back to their baffled leader at all. Probably they were now bitterly regretting their temerity, if, indeed, they had not been shot against the wall by the furious restorers of order.