There were some on board the repeller who, at the moment the great shot
struck her, with a ringing and clangour of steel springs, such as never
was heard before, wished that in her former state of existence she had
been some other vessel than the Tallapoosa.

But every spring sprang back to its place as the great mass of iron
glanced off into the sea.  The dynamite bombs flew over the tops of the
crabs, whose rapid motions and slightly exposed surfaces gave little
chance for accurate aim, and in a short time they were too close to the
Llangaron for this class of gun to be used upon them.

As the crabs came nearer, the Llangaron lowered the great steel
cylinder which hung across her stern, until it lay almost entirely
under water, and abaft of her rudder and propeller-blades.  She now
moved slowly through the water, and her men greeted the advancing crabs
with yells of defiance, and a shower of shot from machine guns.

The character of the new defence which had been fitted to the Llangaron
was known to the Syndicate, and the directors of the two new crabs
understood the heavy piece of work which lay before them.  But their
plans of action had been well considered, and they made straight for
the stern of the British ship.

It was, of course, impossible to endeavour to grasp that great cylinder
with its rounded ends; their forceps would slip from any portion of its
smooth surface on which they should endeavour to lay hold, and no such
attempt was made.  Keeping near the cylinder, one at each end of it,
the two moved slowly after the Llangaron, apparently discouraged.

In a short time, however, it was perceived by those on board the ship
that a change had taken place in the appearance of the crabs; the
visible portion of their backs was growing larger and larger; they were
rising in the water.  Their mailed roofs became visible from end to
end, and the crowd of observers looking down from the ship were amazed
to see what large vessels they were.

Higher and higher the crabs arose, their powerful air-pumps working at
their greatest capacity, until their ponderous pincers became visible
above the water.  Then into the minds of the officers of the Llangaron
flashed the true object of this uprising, which to the crew had seemed
an intention on the part of the sea-devils to clamber on board.

If the cylinder were left in its present position the crab might seize
the chains by which it was suspended, while if it were raised it would
cease to be a defence.  Notwithstanding this latter contingency, the
order was quickly given to raise the cylinder; but before the hoisting
engine had been set in motion, Crab Q thrust forward her forceps over
the top of the cylinder and held it down.  Another thrust, and the iron
jaws had grasped one of the two ponderous chains by which the cylinder
was suspended.

The other end of the cylinder began to rise, but at this moment Crab R,
apparently by a single effort, lifted herself a foot higher out of the
sea; her pincers flashed forward, and the other chain was grasped.

The two crabs were now placed in the most extraordinary position.  The
overhang of their roofs prevented an attack on their hulls by the
Llangaron, but their unmailed hulls were so greatly exposed that a few
shot from another ship could easily have destroyed them.  But as any
ship firing at them would be very likely to hit the Llangaron, their
directors felt safe on this point.

Three of the foremost ironclads, less than two miles away, were heading
directly for them, and their rams might be used with but little danger
to the Llangaron; but, on the other hand, three swift crabs were
heading directly for these ironclads.

It was impossible for Crabs Q and R to operate in the usual way.  Their
massive forceps, lying flat against the top of the cylinder, could not
be twisted.  The enormous chains they held could not be severed by the
greatest pressure, and if both crabs backed at once they would probably
do no more than tow the Llangaron stern foremost.  There was, moreover,
no time to waste in experiments, for other rams would be coming on, and
there were not crabs enough to attend to them all.

No time was wasted.  Q signalled to R, and R back again, and instantly
the two crabs, each still grasping a chain of the cylinder, began to
sink.  On board the Llangaron an order was shouted to let out the
cylinder chains; but as these chains had only been made long enough to
allow the top of the cylinder to hang at or a little below the surface
of the water, a foot or two of length was all that could be gained.

The davits from which the cylinder hung were thick and strong, and the
iron windlasses to which the chains were attached were large and
ponderous; but these were not strong enough to withstand the weight of
two crabs with steel-armoured roofs, enormous engines, and iron hull.
In less than a minute one davit snapped like a pipe-stem under the
tremendous strain, and immediately afterward the windlass to which the
chain was attached was torn from its bolts, and went crashing
overboard, tearing away a portion of the stern-rail in its descent.

Crab Q instantly released the chain it had held, and in a moment the
great cylinder hung almost perpendicularly from one chain.  But only
for a moment.  The nippers of Crab R still firmly held the chain, and
the tremendous leverage exerted by the falling of one end of the
cylinder wrenched it from the rigidly held end of its chain, and, in a
flash, the enormous stern-guard of the Llangaron sunk, end foremost, to
the bottom of the channel.

In ten minutes afterward, the Llangaron, rudderless, and with the
blades of her propellers shivered and crushed, was slowly turning her
starboard to the wind and the sea, and beginning to roll like a log of
eight thousand tons.

Besides the Llangaron, three ironclads were now drifting broadside to
the sea.  But there was no time to succour disabled vessels, for the
rest of the fleet was coming on, and there was great work for the crabs.

Against these enemies, swift of motion and sudden in action, the
torpedo-boats found it almost impossible to operate, for the British
ships and the crabs were so rapidly nearing each other that a torpedo
sent out against an enemy was more than likely to run against the hull
of a friend.  Each crab sped at the top of its speed for a ship, not
only to attack, but also to protect itself.

Once only did the crabs give the torpedo-boats a chance.  A mile or two
north of the scene of action, a large cruiser was making her way
rapidly toward the repeller, which was still lying almost motionless,
four miles to the westward.  As it was highly probable that this vessel
carried dynamite guns, Crab Q, which was the fastest of her class, was
signalled to go after her.  She had scarcely begun her course across
the open space of sea before a torpedo-boat was in pursuit.  Fast as
was the latter, the crab was faster, and quite as easily managed.  She
was in a position of great danger, and her only safety lay in keeping
herself on a line between the torpedo-boat and the gun-boat, and to
shorten as quickly as possible the distance between herself and that
vessel.

If the torpedo-boat shot to one side in order to get the crab out of
line, the crab, its back sometimes hidden by the tossing waves, sped
also to the same side.  When the torpedo-boat could aim a gun at the
crab and not at the gun-boat, a deadly torpedo flew into the sea; but a
tossing sea and a shifting target were unfavourable to the gunner's
aim.  It was not long, however, before the crab had run the chase which
might so readily have been fatal to it, and was so near the gun-boat
that no more torpedoes could be fired at it.

Of course the officers and crew of the gun-boat had watched with most
anxious interest the chase of the crab.  The vessel was one which had
been fitted out for service with dynamite guns, of which she carried
some of very long range for this class of artillery, and she had been
ordered to get astern of the repeller and to do her best to put a few
dynamite bombs on board of her.

The dynamite gun-boat therefore had kept ahead at full speed,
determined to carry out her instructions if she should be allowed to do
so; but her speed was not as great as that of a crab, and when the
torpedo-boat had given up the chase, and the dreaded crab was drawing
swiftly near, the captain thought it time for bravery to give place to
prudence.  With the large amount of explosive material of the most
tremendous and terrific character which he had on board, it would be
the insanity of courage for him to allow his comparatively small vessel
to be racked, shaken, and partially shivered by the powerful jaws of
the on-coming foe.  As he could neither fly nor fight, he hauled down
his flag in token of surrender, the first instance of the kind which
had occurred in this war.

When the director of Crab Q, through his lookout-glass, beheld this
action on the part of the gun-boat, he was a little perplexed as to
what he should next do.  To accept the surrender of the British vessel,
and to assume control of her, it was necessary to communicate with her.
The communications of the crabs were made entirely by black-smoke
signals, and these the captain of the gun-boat could not understand.
The heavy hatches in the mailed roof which could be put in use when the
crab was cruising, could not be opened when she was at her fighting
depth, and in a tossing sea.

A means was soon devised of communicating with the gun-boat.  A
speaking-tube was run up through one of the air-pipes of the crab,
which pipe was then elevated some distance above the surface.  Through
this the director hailed the other vessel, and as the air-pipe was near
the stern of the crab, and therefore at a distance from the only
visible portion of the turtle-back roof, his voice seemed to come out
of the depths of the ocean.

The surrender was accepted, and the captain of the gun-boat was ordered
to stop his engines and prepare to be towed.  When this order had been
given, the crab moved round to the bow of the gun-boat, and grasping
the cut-water with its forceps, reversed its engines and began to back
rapidly toward the British fleet, taking with it the captured vessel as
a protection against torpedoes while in transit.

The crab slowed up not far from one of the foremost of the British
ships, and coming round to the quarter of the gun-boat, the astonished
captain of that vessel was informed, through the speaking-tube, that if
he would give his parole to keep out of this fight, he would be allowed
to proceed to his anchorage in Portsmouth harbour.  The parole was
given, and the dynamite gun-boat, after reporting to the flag-ship,
steamed away to Portsmouth.

The situation now became one which was unparalleled in the history of
naval warfare.  On the side of the British, seven war-ships were
disabled and drifting slowly to the south-east.  For half an hour no
advance had been made by the British fleet, for whenever one of the
large vessels had steamed ahead, such vessel had become the victim of a
crab, and the Vice-Admiral commanding the fleet had signalled not to
advance until farther orders.

The crabs were also lying-to, each to the windward of, and not far
from, one of the British ships.  They had ceased to make any attacks,
and were resting quietly under protection of the enemy.  This, with the
fact that the repeller still lay four miles away, without any apparent
intention of taking part in the battle, gave the situation its peculiar
character.

The British Vice-Admiral did not intend to remain in this quiescent
condition.  It was, of course, useless to order forth his ironclads,
simply to see them disabled and set adrift.  There was another arm of
the service which evidently could be used with better effect upon this
peculiar foe than could the great battle-ships.

But before doing anything else, he must provide for the safety of those
of his vessels which had been rendered helpless by the crabs, and some
of which were now drifting dangerously near to each other.  Despatches
had been sent to Portsmouth for tugs, but it would not do to wait until
these arrived, and a sufficient number of ironclads were detailed to
tow their injured consorts into port.

When this order had been given, the Vice-Admiral immediately prepared
to renew the fight, and this time his efforts were to be directed
entirely against the repeller.  It would be useless to devote any
further attention to the crabs, especially in their present positions.
But if the chief vessel of the Syndicate's fleet, with its spring
armour and its terrible earthquake bombs, could be destroyed, it was
quite possible that those sea-parasites, the crabs, could also be
disposed of.

Every torpedo-boat was now ordered to the front, and in a long line,
almost abreast of each other, these swift vessels--the light-infantry
of the sea--advanced upon the solitary and distant foe.  If one torpedo
could but reach her hull, the Vice-Admiral, in spite of seven disabled
ironclads and a captured gun-boat, might yet gaze proudly at his
floating flag, even if his own ship should be drifting broadside to the
sea.

The line of torpedo-boats, slightly curving inward, had advanced about
a mile, when Repeller No. 11 awoke from her seeming sleep, and began to
act.  The two great guns at her bow were trained upward, so that a bomb
discharged from them would fall into the sea a mile and a half ahead.
Slowly turning her bow from side to side, so that the guns would cover
a range of nearly half a circle, the instantaneous motor-bombs of the
repeller were discharged, one every half minute.

One of the most appalling characteristics of the motor-bombs was the
silence which accompanied their discharge and action.  No noise was
heard, except the flash of sound occasioned by the removal of the
particles of the object aimed at, and the subsequent roar of wind or
fall of water.

As each motor-bomb dropped into the channel, a dense cloud appeared
high in the air, above a roaring, seething cauldron, hollowed out of
the waters and out of the very bottom of the channel.  Into this chasm
the cloud quickly came down, condensed into a vast body of water, which
fell, with the roar of a cyclone, into the dreadful abyss from which it
had been torn, before the hissing walls of the great hollow had half
filled it with their sweeping surges.  The piled-up mass of the
redundant water was still sending its maddened billows tossing and
writhing in every direction toward their normal level, when another
bomb was discharged; another surging abyss appeared, another roar of
wind and water was heard, and another mountain of furious billows
uplifted itself in a storm of spray and foam, raging that it had found
its place usurped.

Slowly turning, the repeller discharged bomb after bomb, building up
out of the very sea itself a barrier against its enemies.  Under these
thundering cataracts, born in an instant, and coming down all at once
in a plunging storm; into these abysses, with walls of water and floors
of cleft and shivered rocks; through this wide belt of raging turmoil,
thrown into new frenzy after the discharge of every bomb,--no vessel,
no torpedo, could pass.

The air driven off in every direction by tremendous and successive
concussions came rushing back in shrieking gales, which tore up the
waves into blinding foam.  For miles in every direction the sea swelled
and upheaved into great peaked waves, the repeller rising upon these
almost high enough to look down into the awful chasms which her bombs
were making.  A torpedo-boat caught in one of the returning gales was
hurled forward almost on her beam ends until she was under the edge of
one of the vast masses of descending water.  The flood which, from even
the outer limits of this falling-sea, poured upon and into the unlucky
vessel nearly swamped her, and when she was swept back by the rushing
waves into less stormy waters, her officers and crew leaped into their
boats and deserted her.  By rare good-fortune their boats were kept
afloat in the turbulent sea until they reached the nearest
torpedo-vessel.

Five minutes afterward a small but carefully aimed motor-bomb struck
the nearly swamped vessel, and with the roar of all her own torpedoes
she passed into nothing.

The British Vice-Admiral had carefully watched the repeller through his
glass, and he noticed that simultaneously with the appearance of the
cloud in the air produced by the action of the motor-bombs there were
two puffs of black smoke from the repeller.  These were signals to the
crabs to notify them that a motor-gun had been discharged, and thus to
provide against accidents in case a bomb should fail to act.  One puff
signified that a bomb had been discharged to the north; two, that it
had gone eastward; and so on.  If, therefore, a crab should see a
signal of this kind, and perceive no signs of the action of a bomb, it
would be careful not to approach the repeller from the quarter
indicated.  It is true that in case of the failure of a bomb to act,
another bomb would be dropped upon the same spot, but the instructions
of the War Syndicate provided that every possible precaution should be
taken against accidents.

Of course the Vice-Admiral did not understand these signals, nor did he
know that they were signals, but he knew that they accompanied the
discharge of a motor-gun.  Once he noticed that there was a short
cessation in the hitherto constant succession of water avalanches, and
during this lull he had seen two puffs from the repeller, and the
destruction, at the same moment, of the deserted torpedo-boat.  It was,
therefore, plain enough to him that if a motor-bomb could be placed so
accurately upon one torpedo-boat, and with such terrible result, other
bombs could quite as easily be discharged upon the other torpedo-boats
which formed the advanced line of the fleet.  When the barrier of storm
and cataract again began to stretch itself in front of the repeller, he
knew that not only was it impossible for the torpedo-boats to send
their missives through this raging turmoil, but that each of these
vessels was itself in danger of instantaneous destruction.

Unwilling, therefore, to expose his vessels to profitless danger, the
Vice-Admiral ordered the torpedo-boats to retire from the front, and
the whole line of them proceeded to a point north of the fleet, where
they lay to.

When this had been done, the repeller ceased the discharge of bombs;
but the sea was still heaving and tossing after the storm, when a
despatch-boat brought orders from the British Admiralty to the
flagship.  Communication between the British fleet and the shore, and
consequently London, had been constant, and all that had occurred had
been quickly made known to the Admiralty and the Government.  The
orders now received by the Vice-Admiral were to the effect that it was
considered judicious to discontinue the conflict for the day, and that
he and his whole fleet should return to Portsmouth to receive further
orders.

In issuing these commands the British Government was actuated simply by
motives of humanity and common sense.  The British fleet was thoroughly
prepared for ordinary naval warfare, but an enemy had inaugurated
another kind of naval warfare, for which it was not prepared.  It was,
therefore, decided to withdraw the ships until they should be prepared
for the new kind of warfare.  To allow ironclad after ironclad to be
disabled and set adrift, to subject every ship in the fleet to the
danger of instantaneous destruction, and all this without the
possibility of inflicting injury upon the enemy, would not be bravery;
it would be stupidity.  It was surely possible to devise a means for
destroying the seven hostile ships now in British waters.  Until action
for this end could be taken, it was the part of wisdom for the British
navy to confine itself to the protection of British ports.

When the fleet began to move toward the Isle of Wight, the six crabs,
which had been lying quietly among and under the protection of their
enemies, withdrew southward, and, making a slight circuit, joined the
repeller.

Each of the disabled ironclads was now in tow of a sister vessel, or of
tugs, except the Llangaron.  This great ship had been disabled so early
in the contest, and her broadside had presented such a vast surface to
the north-west wind, that she had drifted much farther to the south
than any other vessel.  Consequently, before the arrival of the tugs
which had been sent for to tow her into harbour, the Llangaron was well
on her way across the channel.  A foggy night came on, and the next
morning she was ashore on the coast of France, with a mile of water
between her and dry land.  Fast-rooted in a great sand-bank, she lay
week after week, with the storms that came in from the Atlantic, and
the storms that came in from the German Ocean, beating upon her tall
side of solid iron, with no more effect than if it had been a precipice
of rock.  Against waves and winds she formed a massive breakwater, with
a wide stretch of smooth sea between her and the land.  There she lay,
proof against all the artillery of Europe, and all the artillery of the
sea and the storm, until a fleet of small vessels had taken from her
her ponderous armament, her coal and stores, and she had been lightened
enough to float upon a high tide, and to follow three tugs to
Portsmouth.

When night came on, Repeller No. 11 and the crabs dropped down with the
tide, and lay to some miles west of the scene of battle.  The fog shut
them in fairly well, but, fearful that torpedoes might be sent out
against them, they showed no lights.  There was little danger, of
collision with passing merchantmen, for the English Channel, at
present, was deserted by this class of vessels.

The next morning the repeller, preceded by two crabs, bearing between
them a submerged net similar to that used at the Canadian port,
appeared off the eastern end of the Isle of Wight.  The anchors of the
net were dropped, and behind it the repeller took her place, and
shortly afterward she sent a flag-of-truce boat to Portsmouth harbour.
This boat carried a note from the American War Syndicate to the British
Government.

In this note it was stated that it was now the intention of the
Syndicate to utterly destroy, by means of the instantaneous motor, a
fortified post upon the British coast.  As this would be done solely
for the purpose of demonstrating the irresistible destructive power of
the motor-bombs, it was immaterial to the Syndicate what fortified post
should be destroyed, provided it should answer the requirements of the
proposed demonstration.  Consequently the British Government was
offered the opportunity of naming the fortified place which should be
destroyed.  If said Government should decline to do this, or delay the
selection for twenty-four hours, the Syndicate would itself decide upon
the place to be operated upon.

Every one in every branch of the British Government, and, in fact,
nearly every thinking person in the British islands, had been racking
his brains, or her brains, that night, over the astounding situation;
and the note of the Syndicate only added to the perturbation of the
Government.  There was a strong feeling in official circles that the
insolent little enemy must be crushed, if the whole British navy should
have to rush upon it, and all sink together in a common grave.

But there were cooler and more prudent brains at the head of affairs;
and these had already decided that the contest between the old engines
of war and the new ones was entirely one-sided.  The instincts of good
government dictated to them that they should be extremely wary and
circumspect during the further continuance of this unexampled war.
Therefore, when the note of the Syndicate was considered, it was agreed
that the time had come when good statesmanship and wise diplomacy would
be more valuable to the nation than torpedoes, armoured ships, or heavy
guns.

There was not the slightest doubt that the country would disagree with
the Government, but on the latter lay the responsibility of the
country's safety.  There was nothing, in the opinion of the ablest
naval officers, to prevent the Syndicate's fleet from coming up the
Thames.  Instantaneous motor-bombs could sweep away all forts and
citadels, and explode and destroy all torpedo defences, and London
might lie under the guns of the repeller.

In consequence of this view of the state of affairs, an answer was sent
to the Syndicate's note, asking that further time be given for the
consideration of the situation, and suggesting that an exhibition of
the power of the motor-bomb was not necessary, as sufficient proof of
this had been given in the destruction of the Canadian forts, the
annihilation of the Craglevin, and the extraordinary results of the
discharge of said bombs on the preceding day.

To this a reply was sent from the office of the Syndicate in New York,
by means of a cable boat from the French coast, that on no account
could their purpose be altered or their propositions modified.
Although the British Government might be convinced of the power of the
Syndicate's motor-bombs, it was not the case with the British people,
for it was yet popularly disbelieved that motor-bombs existed.  This
disbelief the Syndicate was determined to overcome, not only for the
furtherance of its own purposes, but to prevent the downfall of the
present British Ministry, and a probable radical change in the
Government.  That such a political revolution, as undesirable to the
Syndicate as to cool-headed and sensible Englishmen, was imminent,
there could be no doubt.  The growing feeling of disaffection, almost
amounting to disloyalty, not only in the opposition party, but among
those who had hitherto been firm adherents of the Government, was
mainly based upon the idea that the present British rulers had allowed
themselves to be frightened by mines and torpedoes, artfully placed and
exploded.  Therefore the Syndicate intended to set right the public
mind upon this subject.  The note concluded by earnestly urging the
designation, without loss of time, of a place of operations.

This answer was received in London in the evening, and all night it was
the subject of earnest and anxious deliberation in the Government
offices.  It was at last decided, amid great opposition, that the
Syndicate's alternative must be accepted, for it would be the height of
folly to allow the repeller to bombard any port she should choose.
When this conclusion had been reached, the work of selecting a place
for the proposed demonstration of the American Syndicate occupied but
little time.  The task was not difficult.  Nowhere in Great Britain was
there a fortified spot of so little importance as Caerdaff, on the west
coast of Wales.

Caerdaff consisted of a large fort on a promontory, and an immense
castellated structure on the other side of a small bay, with a little
fishing village at the head of said bay.  The castellated structure was
rather old, the fortress somewhat less so; and both had long been
considered useless, as there was no probability that an enemy would
land at this point on the coast.

Caerdaff was therefore selected as the spot to be operated upon.  No
one could for a moment imagine that the Syndicate had mined this place;
and if it should be destroyed by motor-bombs, it would prove to the
country that the Government had not been frightened by the tricks of a
crafty enemy.

An hour after the receipt of the note in which it was stated that
Caerdaff had been selected, the Syndicate's fleet started for that
place.  The crabs were elevated to cruising height, the repeller taken
in tow, and by the afternoon of the next day the fleet was lying off
Caerdaff.  A note was sent on shore to the officer in command, stating
that the bombardment would begin at ten o'clock in the morning of the
next day but one, and requesting that information of the hour appointed
be instantly transmitted to London.  When this had been done, the fleet
steamed six or seven miles off shore, where it lay to or cruised about
for two nights and a day.

As soon as the Government had selected Caerdaff for bombardment,
immediate measures were taken to remove the small garrisons and the
inhabitants of the fishing village from possible danger.  When the
Syndicate's note was received by the commandant of the fort, he was
already in receipt of orders from the War Office to evacuate the
fortifications, and to superintend the removal of the fishermen and
their families to a point of safety farther up the coast.

Caerdaff was a place difficult of access by land, the nearest railroad
stations being fifteen or twenty miles away; but on the day after the
arrival of the Syndicate's fleet in the offing, thousands of people
made their way to this part of the country, anxious to see--if
perchance they might find an opportunity to safely see--what might
happen at ten o'clock the next morning.  Officers of the army and navy,
Government officials, press correspondents, in great numbers, and
curious and anxious observers of all classes, hastened to the Welsh
coast.

The little towns where the visitors left the trains were crowded to
overflowing, and every possible conveyance, by which the mountains
lying back of Caerdaff could be reached, was eagerly secured, many
persons, however, being obliged to depend upon their own legs.  Soon
after sunrise of the appointed day the forts, the village, and the
surrounding lower country were entirely deserted, and every point of
vantage on the mountains lying some miles back from the coast was
occupied by excited spectators, nearly every one armed with a
field-glass.

A few of the guns from the fortifications were transported to an
overlooking height, in order that they might be brought into action in
case the repeller, instead of bombarding, should send men in boats to
take possession of the evacuated fortifications, or should attempt any
mining operations.  The gunners for this battery were stationed at a
safe place to the rear, whence they could readily reach their guns if
necessary.

The next day was one of supreme importance to the Syndicate.  On this
day it must make plain to the world, not only what the motor-bomb could
do, but that the motor-bomb did what was done.  Before leaving the
English Channel the director of Repeller No. 11 had received
telegraphic advices from both Europe and America, indicating the
general drift of public opinion in regard to the recent sea-fight; and,
besides these, many English and continental papers had been brought to
him from the French coast.

From all these the director perceived that the cause of the Syndicate
had in a certain way suffered from the manner in which the battle in
the channel had been conducted.  Every newspaper urged that if the
repeller carried guns capable of throwing the bombs which the Syndicate
professed to use, there was no reason why every ship in the British
fleet should not have been destroyed.  But as the repeller had not
fired a single shot at the fleet, and as the battle had been fought
entirely by the crabs, there was every reason to believe that if there
were such things as motor-guns, their range was very short, not as
great as that of the ordinary dynamite cannon.  The great risk run by
one of the crabs in order to disable a dynamite gun-boat seemed an
additional proof of this.

It was urged that the explosions in the water might have been produced
by torpedoes; that the torpedo-boat which had been destroyed was so
near the repeller that an ordinary shell was sufficient to accomplish
the damage that had been done.

To gainsay these assumptions was imperative on the Syndicate's forces.
To firmly establish the prestige of the instantaneous motor was the
object of the war.  Crabs were of but temporary service.  Any nation
could build vessels like them, and there were many means of destroying
them.  The spring armour was a complete defence against ordinary
artillery, but it was not a defence against submarine torpedoes.  The
claims of the Syndicate could be firmly based on nothing but the powers
of absolute annihilation possessed by the instantaneous motor-bomb.

About nine o'clock on the appointed morning, Repeller No. 11, much to
the surprise of the spectators on the high grounds with field-glasses
and telescopes, steamed away from Caerdaff.  What this meant nobody
knew, but the naval military observers immediately suspected that the
Syndicate's vessel had concentrated attention upon Caerdaff in order to
go over to Ireland to do some sort of mischief there.  It was presumed
that the crabs accompanied her, but as they were now at their fighting
depth it was impossible to see them at so great a distance.

But it was soon perceived that Repeller No. 11 had no intention of
running away, nor of going over to Ireland.  From slowly cruising about
four or five miles off shore, she had steamed westward until she had
reached a point which, according to the calculations of her scientific
corps, was nine marine miles from Caerdaff.  There she lay to against a
strong breeze from the east.

It was not yet ten o'clock when the officer in charge of the starboard
gun remarked to the director that he suppose that it would not be
necessary to give the smoke signals, as had been done in the channel,
as now all the crabs were lying near them.  The director reflected a
moment, and then ordered that the signals should be given at every
discharge of the gun, and that the columns of black smoke should be
shot up to their greatest height.

At precisely ten o'clock, up rose from Repeller No.  11 two tall jets
of black smoke.  Up rose from the promontory of Caerdaff, a heavy gray
cloud, like an immense balloon, and then the people on the hill-tops
and highlands felt a sharp shock of the ground and rocks beneath them,
and heard the sound of a terrible but momentary grinding crush.

As the cloud began to settle, it was borne out to sea by the wind, and
then it was revealed that the fortifications of Caerdaff had
disappeared.

In ten minutes there was another smoke signal, and a great cloud over
the castellated structure on the other side of the bay.  The cloud
passed away, leaving a vacant space on the other side of the bay.

The second shock sent a panic through the crowd of spectators.  The
next earthquake bomb might strike among them.  Down the eastern slopes
ran hundreds of them, leaving only a few of the bravest civilians, the
reporters of the press, and the naval and military men.

The next motor-bomb descended into the fishing village, the comminuted
particles of which, being mostly of light material, floated far out to
sea.

The detachment of artillerists who had been deputed to man the guns on
the heights which commanded the bay had been ordered to fall back to
the mountains as soon as it had been seen that it was not the intention
of the repeller to send boats on shore.  The most courageous of the
spectators trembled a little when the fourth bomb was discharged, for
it came farther inland, and struck the height on which the battery had
been placed, removing all vestiges of the guns, caissons, and the ledge
of rock on which they had stood.

The motor-bombs which the repeller was now discharging were of the
largest size and greatest power, and a dozen more of them were
discharged at intervals of a few minutes.  The promontory on which the
fortifications had stood was annihilated, and the waters of the bay
swept over its foundations.  Soon afterward the head of the bay seemed
madly rushing out to sea, but quickly surged back to fill the chasm
which yawned at the spot where the village had been.

The dense clouds were now upheaved at such short intervals that the
scene of devastation was completely shut out from the observers on the
hills; but every few minutes they felt a sickening shock, and heard a
momentary and horrible crash and hiss which seemed to fill all the air.
The instantaneous motor-bombs were tearing up the sea-board, and
grinding it to atoms.

It was not yet noon when the bombardment ceased.  No more puffs of
black smoke came up from the distant repeller, and the vast spreading
mass of clouds moved seaward, dropping down upon St. George's Channel
in a rain of stone dust.  Then the repeller steamed shoreward, and when
she was within three or four miles of the coast she ran up a large
white flag in token that her task was ended.

This sign that the bombardment had ceased was accepted in good faith;
and as some of the military and naval men had carefully noted that each
puff from the repeller was accompanied by a shock, it was considered
certain that all the bombs which had been discharged had acted, and
that, consequently, no further danger was to be apprehended from them.
In spite of this announcement many of the spectators would not leave
their position on the hills, but a hundred or more of curious and
courageous men ventured down into the plain.

That part of the sea-coast where Caerdaff had been was a new country,
about which men wandered slowly and cautiously with sudden
exclamations, of amazement and awe.  There were no longer promontories
jutting out into the sea; there were no hillocks and rocky terraces
rising inland.  In a vast plain, shaven and shorn down to a common
level of scarred and pallid rock, there lay an immense chasm two miles
and a half long, half a mile wide, and so deep that shuddering men
could stand and look down upon the rent and riven rocks upon which had
rested that portion of the Welsh coast which had now blown out to sea.

An officer of the Royal Engineers stood on the seaward edge of this
yawning abyss; then he walked over to the almost circular body of water
which occupied the place where the fishing village had been, and into
which the waters of the bay had flowed.  When this officer returned to
London he wrote a report to the effect that a ship canal, less than an
eighth of a mile long, leading from the newly formed lake at the head
of the bay, would make of this chasm, when filled by the sea, the
finest and most thoroughly protected inland basin for ships of all
sizes on the British coast.  But before this report received due
official consideration the idea had been suggested and elaborated in a
dozen newspapers.

Accounts and reports of all kinds describing the destruction of
Caerdaff, and of the place in which it had stood, filled the newspapers
of the world.  Photographs and pictures of Caerdaff as it had been and
as it then was were produced with marvellous rapidity, and the
earthquake bomb of the American War Syndicate was the subject of
excited conversation in every civilized country.

The British Ministry was now the calmest body of men in Europe.  The
great opposition storm had died away, the great war storm had ceased,
and the wisest British statesmen saw the unmistakable path of national
policy lying plain and open before them.  There was no longer time for
arguments and struggles with opponents or enemies, internal or
external.  There was even no longer time for the discussion of
measures.  It was the time for the adoption of a measure which
indicated itself, and which did not need discussion.

On the afternoon of the day of the bombardment of Caerdaff, Repeller
No. 11, accompanied by her crabs, steamed for the English Channel.  Two
days afterward there lay off the coast at Brighton, with a white flag
floating high above her, the old Tallapoosa, now naval mistress of the
world.

Near by lay a cable boat, and constant communication by way of France
was kept up between the officers of the American Syndicate and the
repeller.  In a very short time communications were opened between the
repeller and London.

When this last step became known to the public of America, almost as
much excited by the recent events as the public of England, a great
disturbance arose in certain political circles.  It was argued that the
Syndicate had no right to negotiate in any way with the Government of
England; that it had been empowered to carry on a war; and that, if its
duties in this regard had been satisfactorily executed, it must now
retire, and allow the United States Government to attend to its foreign
relations.

But the Syndicate was firm.  It had contracted to bring the war to a
satisfactory conclusion.  When it considered that this had been done,
it would retire and allow the American Government, with whom the
contract had been made, to decide whether or not it had been properly
performed.

The unmistakable path of national policy which had shown itself to the
wisest British statesmen appeared broader and plainer when the
overtures of the American War Syndicate had been received by the
British Government.  The Ministry now perceived that the Syndicate had
not waged war; it had been simply exhibiting the uselessness of war as
at present waged.  Who now could deny that it would be folly to oppose
the resources of ordinary warfare to those of what might be called
prohibitive warfare.

Another idea arose in the minds of the wisest British statesmen.  If
prohibitive warfare were a good thing for America, it would be an
equally good thing for England.  More than that, it would be a better
thing if only these two countries possessed the power of waging
prohibitive warfare.

In three days a convention of peace was concluded between Great Britain
and the American Syndicate acting for the United States, its provisions
being made subject to such future treaties and alliances as the
governments of the two nations might make with each other.  In six days
after the affair at Caerdaff, a committee of the American War Syndicate
was in London, making arrangements, under the favourable auspices of
the British Government, for the formation of an Anglo-American
Syndicate of War.

The Atlantic Ocean now sprang into new life.  It seemed impossible to
imagine whence had come the multitude of vessels which now steamed and
sailed upon its surface.  Among these, going westward, were six crabs,
and the spring-armoured vessel, once the Tallapoosa, going home to a
triumphant reception, such as had never before been accorded to any
vessel, whether of war or peace.

The blockade of the Canadian port, which had been effectively
maintained without incident, was now raised, and the Syndicate's
vessels proceeded to an American port.

The British ironclad, Adamant, at the conclusion of peace was still in
tow of Crab C, and off the coast of Florida.  A vessel was sent down
the coast by the Syndicate to notify Crab C of what had occurred, and
to order it to tow the Adamant to the Bermudas, and there deliver her
to the British authorities.  The vessel sent by the Syndicate, which
was a fast coast-steamer, had scarcely hove in sight of the objects of
her search when she was saluted by a ten-inch shell from the Adamant,
followed almost immediately by two others.  The commander of the
Adamant had no idea that the war was at an end, and had never failed,
during his involuntary cruise, to fire at anything which bore the
American flag, or looked like an American craft.

Fortunately the coast steamer was not struck, and at the top of her
speed retired to a greater distance, whence the Syndicate officer on
board communicated with the crab by smoke signals.

During the time in which Crab C had had charge of the Adamant no
communication had taken place between the two vessels.  Whenever an
air-pipe had been elevated for the purpose of using therein a
speaking-tube, a volley from a machine-gun on the Adamant was poured
upon it, and after several pipes had been shot away the director of the
crab ceased his efforts to confer with those on the ironclad.  It had
been necessary to place the outlets of the ventilating apparatus of the
crab under the forward ends of some of the upper roof-plates.

When Crab C had received her orders, she put about the prow of the
great warship, and proceeded to tow her north-eastward, the commander
of the Adamant taking a parting crack with his heaviest stern-gun at
the vessel which had brought the order for his release.

All the way from the American coast to the Bermuda Islands, the great
Adamant blazed, thundered, and roared, not only because her commander
saw, or fancied he saw, an American vessel, but to notify all crabs,
repellers, and any other vile invention of the enemy that may have been
recently put forth to blemish the sacred surface of the sea, that the
Adamant still floated, with the heaviest coat of mail and the finest
and most complete armament in the world, ready to sink anything hostile
which came near enough--but not too near.

When the commander found that he was bound for the Bermudas, he did not
understand it, unless, indeed, those islands had been captured by the
enemy.  But he did not stop firing.  Indeed, should he find the
Bermudas under the American flag, he would fire at that flag and
whatever carried it, as long as a shot or a shell or a charge of powder
remained to him.

But when he reached British waters, and slowly entering St. George's
harbour, saw around him the British flag floating as proudly as it
floated above his own great ship, he confessed himself utterly
bewildered; but he ordered the men at every gun to stand by their piece
until he was boarded by a boat from the fort, and informed of the true
state of affairs.

But even then, when weary Crab C raised herself from her fighting
depth, and steamed to a dock, the commander of the Adamant could
scarcely refrain from sending a couple of tons of iron into the beastly
sea-devil which had had the impertinence to tow him about against his
will.

No time was lost by the respective Governments of Great Britain and the
United States in ratifying the peace made through the Syndicate, and in
concluding a military and naval alliance, the basis of which should be
the use by these two nations, and by no other nations, of the
instantaneous motor.  The treaty was made and adopted with much more
despatch than generally accompanies such agreements between nations,
for both Governments felt the importance of placing themselves, without
delay, in that position from which, by means of their united control of
paramount methods of warfare, they might become the arbiters of peace.

The desire to evolve that power which should render opposition useless
had long led men from one warlike invention to another.  Every one who
had constructed a new kind of gun, a new kind of armour, or a new
explosive, thought that he had solved the problem, or was on his way to
do so.  The inventor of the instantaneous motor had done it.

The treaty provided that all subjects concerning hostilities between
either or both of the contracting powers and other nations should be
referred to a Joint High Commission, appointed by the two powers; and
if war should be considered necessary, it should be prosecuted and
conducted by the Anglo-American War Syndicate, within limitations
prescribed by the High Commission.

The contract made with the new Syndicate was of the most stringent
order, and contained every provision that ingenuity or foresight of man
could invent or suggest to make it impossible for the Syndicate to
transfer to any other nation the use of the instantaneous motor.

Throughout all classes in sympathy with the Administrative parties of
Great Britain and the United States there was a feeling of jubilant
elation on account of the alliance and the adoption by the two nations
of the means of prohibitive warfare.  This public sentiment acted even
upon the opposition; and the majority of army and navy officers in the
two countries felt bound to admit that the arts of war in which they
had been educated were things of the past.  Of course there were
members of the army and navy in both countries who deprecated the new
state of things.  But there were also men, still living, who deprecated
the abolition of the old wooden seventy-four gun ship.

A British artillery officer conversing with a member of the American
Syndicate at a London club, said to him:--

"Do you know that you made a great mistake in the beginning of your
operations with the motor-guns?  If you had contrived an attachment to
the motor which should have made an infernal thunder-clap and a storm
of smoke at the moment of discharge it would have saved you a lot of
money and time and trouble.  The work of the motor on the Canadian
coast was terrible enough, but people could see no connection between
that and the guns on your vessels.  If you could have sooner shown that
connection you might have saved yourselves the trouble of crossing the
Atlantic.  And, to prove this, one of the most satisfactory points
connected with your work on the Welsh coast was the jet of smoke which
came from the repeller every time she discharged a motor.  If it had
not been for those jets, I believe there would be people now in the
opposition who would swear that Caerdaff had been mined, and that the
Ministry were a party to it."

"Your point is well taken," said the American, "and should it ever be
necessary to discharge any more bombs,--which I hope it may not be,--we
shall take care to show a visible and audible connection between cause
and effect."

"The devil take it, sir!" cried an old captain of an English
ship-of-the-line, who was sitting near by.  "What you are talking about
is not  war!  We might as well send out a Codfish Trust to settle
national disputes.  In the next sea-fight we'll save ourselves the
trouble of gnawing and crunching at the sterns of the enemy.  We'll
simply send a note aboard requesting the foreigner to be so good as to
send us his rudder by bearer, which, if properly marked and numbered,
will be returned to him on the conclusion of peace.  This would do just
as well as twisting it off, and save expense.  No, sir, I will not join
you in a julep!  _I_ have made no alliance over new-fangled inventions!
Waiter, fetch me some rum and hot water!"