the force from America, and the simultaneous uprising of the British
Section of the Brotherhood, that they had fallen into the hands of
the Federationists almost without a struggle. This had enabled the
invaders and their allies to concentrate themselves rapidly along the
line of action which had been carefully predetermined upon.

Landing almost simultaneously at Southampton, Portsmouth, Shoreham,
Newhaven, Hastings, Folkestone, Dover, Deal, Ramsgate, and Margate,
they had been joined everywhere by their comrades of the British
Section, whose first action, on receiving the signal from the sky,
had been to seize the railways and shoot down, without warning or
mercy, every soldier of the League who opposed them.

What had happened at Harwich had at the same time and in the same
fashion happened at Dover and Chatham. The troops in occupation had
been caught and crushed at a blow between overwhelming forces in
front and rear. Added to this, the International was immensely
stronger in France and Italy than in Russia, and therefore the
defections from the ranks of the League had been far greater than
they had been in the north.

Tens of thousands had donned the red ribbon as the Signal flashed
over their encampments, and when the moment came to repel the assault
of the mysterious grey legions that had sprung from no one knew
where, the bewildered French and Italian officers found their
regiments automatically splitting up into squads of tens and
companies of hundreds, obeying other orders, and joining in the
slaughter of their former comrades with the most perfect _sang
froid_. By daybreak on the 6th the various divisions of the
Federationists were well on their way to the French and Italian
positions to the south of London. The utmost precautions had been
taken to prevent any news reaching headquarters, and these, as has
been seen, were almost entirely successful.

The three army corps sent southward by General le Gallifet met with a
ruinous disaster long before they came face to face with the enemy.
Ten of the fleet of thirty war-balloons which had been sent to
co-operate with them, had been manned and commanded by men of the
International. They were of the newest type and the swiftest in the
fleet, and their crews were armed with the strangest weapons that had
yet been used in the war. These were bows and arrows, a curious
anachronism amidst the elaborate machinery of destruction evolved by
the science of the twent