nd, for the sake of humanity, I hope that you will be
successful. All that we can do shall be done well and honestly. That you
can depend on, and for the rest, we shall depend on you and your
science. The trust that you have put in our hands to-day is a great
honour to us, and we shall do our best to deserve it. Good-morning,
sir."

CHAPTER XXVI

THE FIRST BOMBARDMENT OF LONDON

When Lennard got out of the train at St Pancras that evening, he found
such a sight as until a day or so ago no Londoner had ever dreamed of.
But terrible as the happenings were, they were not quite terrible enough
to stop the issue of the evening newspapers.

As the train slowed down along the platform, boys were running along it
yelling:

"Bombardment of London from the air--dome of St Paul's smashed by a
shell--Guildhall, Mansion House, and Bank of England in ruins--orful
scenes in the streets. Paper, sir?"

He got out of the carriage and grabbed the first newspaper that was
thrust into his hand, gave the boy sixpence for it, and hurried away
towards the entrance. He found a few cabmen outside the station; he
hailed one of the drivers, got in, and said:

"Downing Street--quick. There's a sovereign; there'll be another for you
when I get there."

"It's a mighty risky job, guv'nor, these times, driving a keb through
London streets. Still, one's got to live, I suppose. 'Old up there--my
Gawd, that's another of those bombs! You just got out of there in time,
sir."

Even as though it had been timed, as it might well have been, a torpedo
dropped from a ghostly shape drifting slowly across the grey November
clouds. Then there came a terrific shock. Every pane in the vast roof
and in the St Pancras Hotel shivered to the dust. The engine which had
drawn Lennard's train blew up like one huge shell, and the carriages
behind it fell into splinters.

If that shell had only dropped three minutes sooner the end of the World
war of 1910 would have been very different to what it was; for, as
Lennard learned afterwards, of all the porters, officials and
passengers, who had the misfortune to be in the great station at that
moment, only half a hundred cripples, maimed for life, escaped.

"I wonder whether that was meant for me," said Lennard as the frightened
horse sprang away at a half gallop. "If that's the case, John Castellan
knows rather more than he ought to do, and, good Lord, if he knows that,
he must know where Auriole is, and wha