The Angel of the Revolution: A Tale of the Coming Terror
CHAPTER XLVI.
VICTORY.
It was a little after three o'clock in the afternoon when Natas,Tremayne, and Arnold ended their deliberations in the saloon of the_Ithuriel_. At the same hour a council of war was being held byGenerals le Gallifet and Cosensz at the Crystal Palace Hotel,Sydenham, where the two commanders had taken up their quarters.
Since daybreak matters had assumed a very serious, if not desperateaspect for the troops of the League to the south of London.Communication had entirely ceased with the Tsar since the nightbefore, and this could only mean that his Majesty had lost thecommand of the air, through the destruction or disablement of hisfleet of aerostats. News from the force which had descended uponLondon told only of a fearful expenditure of life that had notpurchased the slightest advantage.
The blockade had been broken on the east, and, therefore, all hope ofreducing the city by famine was at an end. Their own war-balloons hadbeen either captured or destroyed, thousands of their men haddeserted to the enemy, and multitudes more had been slain. Everyposition was dominated by the captured aerostats and the air-ships ofthe Terrorists. Even the building in which the council was being heldmight be shattered to fragments at any moment by a discharge of theirirresistible artillery.
Finally, it was practically certain that within the next few hourstheir headquarters must be surrounded, and then their only choicewould lie between unconditional surrender and swift and inevitabledestruction by an aerial bombardment. Manifestly the time had come tomake terms if possible, and purchase their own safety and that oftheir remaining troops. Both the generals and every member of theirrespective staffs saw clearly that victory was now a physicalimpossibility, and so the immediate issue of the council was thatorders were given to hoist the white flag over the tricolour and theItalian standard on the summits of the two towers of the CrystalPalace, and on the flagstaffs over the headquarters.
These were at once seen by a squadron of air-ships coming from thenorth in obedience to Tremayne's summons, and within half an hour thesame squadron was seen returning from the south headed by theflagship, also flying, to the satisfaction of the two generals, thesignal of truce. The air-ships stopped over Sydenham and rangedthemselves in a circle with their guns pointing down upon theheadquarters, and the _Ariel_, with Tremayne on board, descended towithin twenty feet of the ground in front of the hotel.
As she did so an officer wearing the uniform of a French General ofDivision came forward, saluted, and said that he had a message forthe Commander-in-Chief of the Federation forces. Tremayne returnedthe salute, and said briefly--
"I am here. What is the message?"
"I am commissioned by General Gallifet, Commander-in-Chief of theSouthern Division, to request on his behalf the honour of anaudience. He awaits you with General Cosensz in the hotel," repliedthe Frenchman, gazing in undisguised admiration at the wonderfulcraft which he now for the first time saw at close quarters.
"With pleasure. I will be with you in a moment," said Tremayne, andas he spoke the _Ariel_ settled gently down to the earth, and thegangway steps dropped from her bow.
As he entered the room in which the two generals were awaiting him,surrounded by their brilliantly-uniformed staffs, he presented astrange contrast to the men whose lives he held in the hollow of hishand. He was dressed in a dark tweed suit, with Norfolk jacket andknickerbockers, met by long shooting boots, just as though he wasfresh from the moors, instead of from the battlefield on which thefate of the world was being decided. General le Gallifet advanced tomeet him with a puzzled look of half-recognition on his face, whichwas at once banished by Tremayne holding out his hand without theslightest ceremony, and saying--
"Ah, I see you recognise me, General!"
"I do, my Lord Alanmere, and, you will permit me to add, with themost profound astonishment," replied the General, taking theproffered hand with a hearty grasp. "May I venture to hope that withan old acquaintance our negotiations may prove all the easier?"
Tremayne bowed and said--
"Rest assured, General, that they shall be as easy as my instructionswill permit me to make them."
"Your instructions! But I thought"--
"That I was in supreme command. So I am in a sense, but I am thelieutenant of Natas for all that, and in a case like this his word islaw. But come, what terms do you propose?"
"That truce shall be proclaimed for twenty-four hours; that thecommanders of the forces of the League shall meet this mysteriousNatas, yourself, and the King of England, and arrange terms by whichthe armies of France, Russia, and Italy shall be permitted toevacuate the country with the honours of war."
"Then, General, I may as well tell you at once that those terms areimpossible," replied the Chief of the Federation quietly, but with anote of inflexible determination in his voice. "In the first place,'the honours of war' is a phrase which already belongs to the past.We see no honour in war, and if we can have our way this shall be thelast war that shall ever be waged on earth.
"Indeed, I may tell you that we began this war as one of absoluteextermination. Had it not been for the intercession of Natasha, thedaughter of Natas, you would not even have been given the opportunityof making terms of peace, or even of unconditional surrender. Ourorders were simply to slay, and spare not, as long as a man remainedin arms on British soil. You are, of course, aware that we have takenno prisoners"--
"But, my lord, this is not war, it is murder on the most colossalscale!" exclaimed the General, utterly unable to control theagitation that these terrible words evoked, not only in his ownbreast, but in that of every man who heard them.
"To us war and murder are synonymous terms, differing only aswholesale and retail," replied Tremayne drily; "for the mere names wecare nothing. This world-war is none of our seeking; but if war canbe cured by nothing but war, then we will wage it to the point ofextermination. Now here are my terms. All the troops of the League onthis side of the river Thames, on laying down their arms, shall bepermitted to return to their homes, not as soldiers, but as peacefulcitizens of the world, to go about their natural business as men whohave sworn never to draw the sword again save in defence of their ownhomes."
"And his Majesty the Tsar?"
"You cannot make terms for the Tsar, General, and let me beg of younot to attempt to do so. No power under heaven can save him and hisadvisers from the fate that awaits them."
"And if we refuse your terms, the alternative is what?"
"Annihilation to the last man!"
A dead silence followed these fearful words so calmly and yet soinflexibly spoken. General le Gallifet and the ItalianCommander-in-Chief looked at one another and at the officers standingabout them. A murmur of horror and indignation passed from lip tolip. Then Tremayne spoke again quickly but impressively--
"Gentlemen, don't think that I am saying what I cannot do. We areinflexibly determined to stamp the curse of war out here and now, ifit cost millions of lives to do so. Your forces are surrounded, youraerostats are captured or destroyed. It is no use mincing matters ata moment like this. It is life or death with you. If you do notbelieve me, General le Gallifet, come with me and take a flight roundLondon in my air-ship yonder, and your own eyes shall see howhopeless all further struggle is. I pledge my word of honour as anEnglish gentleman that you shall return in safety. Will you come?"
"I will," said the French commander. "Gentlemen, you will await myreturn"; and with a bow to his companions, he followed the Chief outof the room, and embarked on the air-ship without further ado.
"Do you understand now why you could not make termsfor Russia?"
_See page 351._]
The _Ariel_ at once rose into the air. Tremayne reported to Nataswhat had been done, and then took the General into the deck saloon,and gave orders to proceed at full speed to Richmond, which wasreached in what seemed to the Frenchman an inconceivably short spaceof time. Then the _Ariel_ swung round to the eastward, and at halfspeed traversed the whole line of battle over hill and vale, at aneleva
tion of eight hundred feet, from Richmond to Shooter's Hill.
What General le Gallifet saw more than convinced him that Tremaynehad spoken without exaggeration when he said that annihilation wasthe only alternative to evacuation on his terms. The grey legions ofthe League seemed innumerable. Their long lines lapped round thebroken squadrons of the League, mowing them down with incessanthailstorms of magazine fire, and overhead the air-ships and aerostatswere hurling shells on them which made great dark gaps in theirformations wherever they attempted anything like order. Everyposition of importance was either occupied or surrounded by theFederationists. There was no way open save towards London, and thatway, as the General knew only too well, lay destruction.
To the east of Shooter's Hill the air-ship swerved round to thenorthward. The Thames was alive with steamers flying the red flag,and carrying food and men into London. To the north of the river thebattle had completely ceased as far as Muswell Hill.
There the Black Eagle of Russia still floated from the roof of thePalace, and a furious battle was raging round the slopes of the hill.But the Russians were already surrounded, and manifestly outnumberedfive to one, while six aerostats were circling to and fro, doingtheir work of death upon them with fearful effectiveness.
"You see, General, that the aerostats do not destroy the Palace andbury the Tsar in its ruins, nor do I stop and do the same, as I coulddo in a few minutes. Do you understand now why you could not maketerms for Russia?"
"What your designs are Heaven and yourselves only know," replied theGeneral, with quivering lips. "But I see that all is hopelessly lost.For God's sake let this carnage stop! It is not war, it is butchery,and we have deserved this retribution for employing those infernalcontrivances in the first place. I always said it was not fairfighting. It is murder to drop death on defenceless men from theclouds. We will accept your terms. Let us get back to the south andsave the lives of what remain of our brave fellows. If this isscientific warfare, I, for one, will fight no more!"
"Well spoken, General!" said Tremayne, laying his hand upon hisshoulder. "Those words of yours have saved two millions of humanlives, and by this time to-morrow war will have ceased, I hope forever, among the nations of the West."
The _Ariel_ now swerved southward again, crossed London at fullspeed, and within half an hour General le Gallifet was once morestanding in front of the Crystal Palace Hotel. As it was now gettingdusk the searchlights of the air-ships were turned on, and they sweptalong the southern line of battle flashing the signal, "Victory!Cease firing!" to the triumphant hosts of the Federation, while atthe same time the French and Italian commanders set the fieldtelegraph to work and despatched messengers into London with the newsof the terms of peace. By nightfall all fighting south of the Thameshad ceased, and victors and vanquished were fraternising as thoughthey had never struck a blow at each other, for war is a matter ofdiplomacy and Court intrigue, and not of personal animosity. Thepeoples of the world would be good enough friends if their rulers andpoliticians would let them.
Meanwhile the battle raged with unabated fury round the headquartersof the Tsar. Here despotism was making its last stand, and making itbravely, in spite of the tremendous odds against it. But as twilightdeepened into night the numbers of the assailants of the last of theRussian positions seemed to multiply miraculously.
A never-ceasing flood of grey-clad soldiery surged up from the south,overflowed the barricades to the north, and swept the last of theRussians out of the streets like so much chaff. All the hundredstreams converged upon Muswell Hill, and joined the ranks of theattacking force, and so the night fell upon the last struggle of theworld-war. Even the Tsar himself now saw that the gigantic game wasvirtually over, and that the stake of world-empire had been playedfor--and lost.
"A vision which no one who saw it forgot to the day ofhis death."
_See page 353._]
A powerful field searchlight had been fixed on the roof of thePalace, and, as it flashed hither and thither round the area of thebattle, he saw fresh hosts of the British and Federation soldierspouring in upon the scene of action, while his own men were beingmown down by thousands under the concentrated fire of millions ofrifles, and his regiments torn to fragments by the incessant storm ofexplosives from the sky.
Hour after hour the savage fight went on, and the grey and red linesfought their way up and up the slopes, drawing the ring of flame andsteel closer and closer round the summit of the hill on which theAutocrat of the North stood waiting for the hour of his fate tostrike.
The last line of the defenders of the position was reached at length.For an hour it held firm in spite of the fearful odds. Then itwavered and bent, and swayed to and fro in a last agony ofdesperation. The encircling lines seemed to surge backwards for aspace. Then came a wild chorus of hurrahs, a swift forward rush oflevelled bayonets, the clash of steel upon steel--and then butchery,vengeful and pitiless.
The red tide of slaughter surged up to the very walls of the Palace.Only a few yards separated the foremost ranks of the victoriousassailants from the little group of officers, in the midst of whichtowered the majestic figure of the White Tsar--an emperor without anempire, a leader without an army. He strode forward towards the lineof bayonets fringing the crest of the hill, drew his sword, snappedthe blade as a man would break a dry stick, and threw the two piecesto the ground, saying in English as he did so--
"It is enough, I surrender!"
Then he turned on his heel, and with bowed head walked back again tohis Staff.
Almost at the same moment a blaze of white light appeared in the sky,a hundred feet above the heads of the vast throng that encircled thePalace. Millions of eyes were turned up at once, and beheld a visionwhich no one who saw it forgot to the day of his death.
The ten air-ships of the Terrorist fleet were ranged in two curves oneither side of the _Ithuriel_, which floated about twenty feet belowthem, her silvery hull bathed in a flood of light from their electriclamps. In her bow, robed in glistening white fur, stood Natasha,transfigured in the full blaze of the concentrated searchlights. Asilence of wonder and expectation fell upon the millions at her feet,and in the midst of it she began to sing the Hymn of Freedom. It waslike the voice of an angel singing in the night of peace afterstrife.
Men of every nation in Europe listened to her entranced, as shechanged from language to language; and when at last the triumphantstrains of the Song of the Revolution came floating down from herlips through the still night air, an irresistible impulse ran throughthe listening millions, and with one accord they took up the refrainin all the languages of Europe, and a mighty flood of exultant songrolled up in wave after wave from earth to heaven,--a song at once ofvictory and thanksgiving, for the last battle of the world-war hadbeen lost and won, and the valour and genius of Anglo-Saxondom hadtriumphed over the last of the despotisms of Europe.