f these, because, as they
were all apparently bound for the same point, and, as the speed of
the air-ships was more than five times as great as that of the
swiftest cruiser, to do so would have been a waste of time, when
every moment might be of the utmost consequence.

Off Copenhagen the aerial travellers saw the first signs of the
terrible night's work, with the details of which the reader has
already been made acquainted. Wrecked fortifications, cruisers and
battleships bearing every mark of a heavy engagement, some with their
top-works battered into ruins, their military masts gone, and their
guns dismounted; some down by the head, and some by the stern, and
others evidently run ashore to save them from sinking; and the
harbour crowded with others in little better condition--everywhere
there were eloquent proofs of the disaster which had overtaken the
Allied fleets on the previous night.

"There seems to have been some rough work going on down there within
the last few hours," said Arnold to Natas as they came in sight of
this scene of destruction. "The Russians could not have done this
alone, for when the war began they were shut up in the Baltic by an
overwhelming force, of which these seem to be the remains. And those
forts yonder were never destroyed by anything but our shells."

"Yes," replied Natas. "It is easy to see what has happened. The
_Lucifer_ was sent here to help the Russian fleet to break the
blockade, and it looks as though it had been done very effectually.
We are just a few hours too late, I fear.

"That one victory will have an immense effect on the course of the
war, for it is almost certain that the Russians will make for the
Atlantic round the north of the Shetland Islands, and co-operate with
the French and Italian squadrons along the British line of
communication with the West. That once cut, food will go up to famine
prices in Britain, and the end will not be far off."

Natas spoke without the slightest apparent personal interest in the
subject; but his words brought a flush to Arnold's cheeks, and make
him suddenly clench his hands and knit his brows. After all he was an
Englishman, and though he owed England nothing but the accident of
his birth, the knowledge that one of his own ships should be the
means of bringing this disaster upon her made him forget for the
moment the gulf that he had placed between himself and his native
land, and long to go to her rescue. But it was only a p