CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE CHASE.
"TWENTY minutes," repeated Gerald blankly. "Why, she's half a dozenballonettes useless."
"Quite so," assented the captain. "Fortunately they are all in thelowermost tier. We can make use of the emergency compartments. Now,Dacres, will you see about making ready to slip the moorings?"
Quickly the "Repulse's" lieutenant and his men boarded their cutter,taking with them the Valderian prisoners. Since Whittinghame was notunder the orders of Rear-Admiral Maynebrace he did not have torequest "permission to part company"; but he paid the Admiral thecompliment, sending the message by the lieutenant.
Within a few minutes of that officer's return to the flagship the"Repulse" signalled, "Wish you success."
The "Meteor" rose slowly to a height of three hundred feet. Even thenthe whole of the ultra-hydrogen at Whittinghame's disposal had to bebrought into play. The airship possessed sufficient gas barely tocounteract the attraction of gravity. To increase the altitude shewould have to depend solely upon her elevating planes unless some ofthe stores could be ruthlessly sacrificed, for there was no ballastavailable.
At quarter speed the "Meteor" passed immediately over the flagship'smasts, dipped her ensign, then circling, bore away northward for thePeruvian coast.
"It's getting serious," declared Captain Whittinghame to Dacres. "Thesupply of ultra-hydrogen is less than I thought. We'll stick to itand attempt to run Durango's new craft down. After that the bestthing we can do is to make for Jamaica, and wait there until we get afresh consignment of ultra-hydrogen from home."
"There's a leakage somewhere," said the sub.
"Yes, unfortunately. Still, it is not to be wondered at, after whatthe 'Meteor' has gone through. No doubt our hurried repairs after thescrap with the 'Libertad' were not carried out so carefully as wecould have wished."
"And the motors, sir?"
"Thank goodness they are good for another twenty thousand miles, ifnecessary. One couldn't hope for a more economical fuel thancordite."
"I suppose we could, if necessary, rest on the surface of the sea andcarry on under power?"
"We could, provided the water were sufficiently calm. All the same,Dacres, I don't want to have to do it. The air is my sphere, my lad.Ha! we're approaching Nazca, I can see. Keep a good look out in casewe spot this flying boat arrangement. I'm rather curious to see whatit is like."
"But if Durango hasn't started yet and spots the 'Meteor'approaching? He'll give us the slip."
"He cannot go far without being noticed in a strange country,"replied Vaughan Whittinghame cheerfully. "We have an extraditiontreaty with Peru, you know."
"He may disguise himself."
"More than likely; but to what end? Had he made for a large city likeLima or even Callao he might escape notice. But in a little placelike Nazca, why, he's playing into our hands."
Both men remained silent for a few moments, then Dacres blurtedout:--
"It is awfully good of you, sir, to make it all right at theAdmiralty for me."
"Nonsense!" protested Captain Whittinghame. "I knew you'd be pleased.One can generally take it for granted that when a young fellow cutsoff his nose to spite his face he's genuinely sorry for it, eventhough he won't admit it. Now, honestly, weren't you jolly sick abouthaving to leave the 'Royal Oak'?"
"I'm very glad I joined the 'Meteor,' sir."
"That's no answer to my question, Dacres."
"Well, then, I don't mind having to leave the 'Royal Oak,' but I'mawfully pleased to find that I am still an officer of the RoyalNavy."
"Then, I wasn't far out in my estimation, Dacres. All's well thatends well, you know."
"It hasn't ended yet," rejoined the sub, pointing to the land, whichwas now only a mile off. "Now for Durango."
Captain Whittinghame telegraphed for the propellers to be stopped.Slowly the "Meteor" descended, alighting on the south side of thetown of Nazca.
Practically all the inhabitants, preceded by the alcalde, came out tosee the unwonted sight of a huge airship flying the British colours,the mayor tendering the hospitality of Nazca to the visitors duringtheir stay.
"We do not remain long, senor alcalde," replied Gerald Whittinghame."We are in pursuit of an outlaw, one Reno Durango, who has fled fromValderia. We heard, on good authority, that he came hither."
"All strangers arriving at Nazca are known to us, senor," said theportly alcalde. "No one of that name has set foot in our town."
Gerald Whittinghame showed no sign of disappointment at theinformation. It was as he had expected.
"I believe, senor," he remarked, "that you have an inventor who hasbuilt a kind of boat that is capable of flying?"
"Ah, yes," replied the alcalde. "Then you, too, are anxious topurchase the boat? I fear you are too late, for an English milord hasjust taken her away."
"I think I know the gentleman," said Gerald. "Would you minddescribing him to me?"
The mayor's description left no doubt as to the identity of thesupposed English "milord." Durango had forestalled them.
"Ask the alcalde if the inventor of the boat is present," suggestedVaughan, after his brother had explained the conversation.
"Here he is, Senor Jaurez is his name," announced the mayor,indicating an alert little Peruvian, who was paying more attention tothe visible details of the "Meteor" than to the conversation betweenthe chief magistrate of Nazca and the officers of the airship.
Senor Jaurez elbowed his way through the crowd. His face was beamingin anticipation of booking another order.
"What is the radius of action of your flying-boat, senor?" askedGerald, prompted by his brother.
"A hundred leagues, senors; that is without replenishing thepetrol-tanks. I could, of course, construct another boat with twiceor even thrice the capacity. Perhaps your worships would like to paya visit to my hacienda?"
"We regret, senor," replied Whittinghame, not to be outdone incourtesy, "that such a course is at present impossible. Might we askwhat is the speed of your flying boat?"
The Peruvian explained that under favourable conditions a rateequivalent to eighty-five miles per hour was possible.
"We'll overtake his craft in three hours, then," said Vaughan to hisbrother. "Now, let us bid farewell to Nazca."
The "Meteor" resumed her quest. Durango's destination was unknown. Hehad gone in a northerly direction, and since it was very unlikelythat he would take overland a craft designed to alight upon the sea,it was reasonable to conclude that he would attempt a landing inEquador or Columbia, seeing that, now his identity was established,he dare not seek refuge in Peruvian territory.
Flying at her greatest speed the "Meteor" skirted the coast line.Every little harbour and creek capable of affording refuge to thewinged boat--which by reason of its two forty-feet planes was veryconspicuous--were carefully swept by the aid of binoculars. AtTruxillo the airship brought up to hail a Peruvian man-of-war lyingin the harbour. The officer of the watch replied that ahydro-aeroplane had passed overhead less than an hour previously,bound north. The motors, he added, were apparently giving trouble.
"Good! We're gaining rapidly!" ejaculated Captain Whittinghame. "Ihope to goodness we pick the fellow up before dark, or he may give usthe slip--but only for a time. As long as the 'Meteor' is capable ofkeeping the air I will continue the pursuit."
Two hours later the "Meteor" was above the small town of Mancora.Ahead lay the broad expanse of the deep indentation of the Gulf ofGuayaquil--practically the only large break in the coastline on thePacific coast between Corcovado Gulf in Southern Chile and the Bay ofPanama. The question was: had Durango crossed it, or had he skirtedthe shore? By adopting either course he would quickly reachEquadorean territory, where he would be able to land without fear ofarrest.
"We will make inquiries; it will save time," declared Whittinghame,as he telegraphed for the propellers to be stopped.
Descending to within fifty feet of the plaza the "Meteor" hungmotionless in the air. Gerald Whittin
ghame promptly hailed the throngof spectators. A hundred voices shouted in reply, while a hundredhands pointed in a northerly direction; but not a word wasintelligible to the crew. Whittinghame tried again, only to begreeted by a chorus that conveyed no information to the anxiousmembers of the "Meteor's" crew.
"Evidently he's gone straight across the gulf," declared Vaughan."We'll carry on. We are only wasting precious time."
"One moment," protested his brother. "Here, take hold of this ropeand let me down. I'll soon find out."
Four of the crew paid out the rope, and Gerald, turning like a jointon a meat-jack, was lowered to earth. Instantly he was surrounded bya mob of ever curious townsfolk all pointing, shouting, and pushingeach other with the utmost vehemence. The airship, drifting slowly inthe faint breeze, carried Gerald along the ground, and the crowdmoved too.
"Hurry up!" shouted Vaughan. "You'll be jammed up against the wall ofthat building in half a minute."
"Haul away, then," bawled his brother in reply, at the same timethrowing his arms round one of the most loquacious of his attentiveaudience.
The man struggled, but unavailingly. His companions, too astounded tocome to his aid, watched him being taken up in the iron grip of theEnglishman. Then, realizing that should he break away there would bean ever-increasing drop that would end fatally to him, the Peruvianchanged his tactics and clung with desperation to his captor.
"We will not hurt you, senor," said Gerald reassuringly, as the twomen were hauled into safety within the "Meteor." "We merely wantinformation, and then we will land you in safety. Here is a fivedollar piece for you."
"What information do you want, senor?" asked the Peruvian, aftertesting the coin betwixt his teeth. The gold reassured him. Had hislife or liberty been in danger he would not have been treated in thislavish fashion.
"The boat that flies, senor?" he repeated. "_Madre!_ of course I haveseen her. Did not all of us say so?"
"But we could not understand: you were all shouting together. Now,where did you see that flying-boat?"
"Senor, she came down just outside the town not an hour ago. Therewere three men in her. Two were Valderians. Their master was not. Hebought petrol: four cans of it. He poured the petrol into a metalflask in the boat and went on his way, over yonder," and the Peruvianpointed due north.
With the utmost celerity the fellow was lowered to his native soil,and again the "Meteor" darted ahead. Every man was now keenly on thealert. All depended upon Durango's craft being sighted before the sundipped behind the waters of the Pacific. Only forty minutes' ofdaylight remained.
"Land right ahead, sir," reported one of the crew.
"That's St. Helena Point, then," declared Captain Whittinghame."We've done a hundred miles in an hour and ten minutes. Nothing muchwrong with the motors as far as we are concerned."
The next instant he devoutedly wished he hadn't spoken in thisstrain, for with a terrific crash one of the blades of the foremostport propeller became detached from the boss. Sheering through thealuminium cylinder protecting the double propellers, it ripped themetal to such an extent that a long strip of wreckage caught theremaining blade, snapping it off close to the base. The motor racedfuriously until Parsons, knowing that something was amiss, promptlycut off the detonator.
"That's done it!" ejaculated Vaughan Whittinghame disgustedly. "Thatis the result of boasting."
"Repairable?" asked Dr. Hambrough.
"Yes, but not now. We can't afford to bring up for repairs. How's thesteering, quartermaster?"
"Rather hard on her helm, sir," replied that worthy. "She wants tocome round to port, sir."
"I thought so," rejoined the Captain. "That's caused by the unequaldrive of the starboard engines. We must carry on and risk theconsequences."
He glanced at the speed indicator. The "Meteor" was still travellingthrough the air at one hundred and twenty miles an hour.
"We're gaining thirty at least on that villain," continued Vaughan.For the time being he appeared to give slight attention to the damagedone to his beloved airship. His whole thoughts were centred upon thepursuit of Durango.
Only ten more minutes to sunset.
"Get the two bow searchlights connected up," ordered the Captain."See that new carbons are used. It will be like chasing a mouse bycandlelight, but we----"
"There she is, sir!" interrupted Callaghan excitedly.
"Where?" asked Whittinghame, rushing to one of the scuttles on theport bow, and following the direction of the Irishman's outstretchedarm. "You're right, Callaghan. Hurrah! We've overtaken her."
Such indeed was the case. Evidently Durango had gone a couple ofpoints out of his course in the dash across the mouth of the Gulf ofGuayaquil. Consequently, although the crew of the "Meteor" wereunaware of it until a few moments previously, the airship had drawnlevel with her quarry, but on a divergent course; while--anotherpoint in her favour--she was between the flying-boat and the shoresof Equador.
"Starboard your helm, quartermaster," ordered the Captain.
Round swung the "Meteor" till her bows pointed straight for theobject of her pursuit. Durango and his two companions, ignorant ofthe fact that they were being followed, were possibly contemplating awelcome rest on neutral ground, when one of the Valderians caughtsight of their arch-enemy bearing down upon them hand over fist.
The crew of the "Meteor" saw the Mexican literally push the helmsmanaside and grip the steering-wheel. The aerial boat turned almost asrapidly as a racing yacht, and made, not for the coast, but due westtowards the wide Pacific.
Down plunged the sun--a red orb in a ruddy sky. Night was about tofall upon the scene of the desperate race between the airship and herprey.