In five minutes the novel Zeppelin eclipse was over, although at no time was the actual airship to be seen. She had previously been fired upon by the anti-aircraft guns on the coast and was now cautiously smelling her way through the clouds in order to find an undefended gap in the defences.
Another half-hour passed in acute suspense, Three times the anxious crew heard the terrifying sound of an aerial propeller. Somewhere in the darkness the British hornets were up and searching for their lurking foe—so far without success unless the moral effect be taken into consideration.
Presently the Zeppelin drifted beyond the glare of the fixed searchlights, but not until another twenty minutes had passed did von Loringhoven give orders for the engines to be restarted. At that terrific altitude the noise was considerably diminished in volume. Instead of the explosions of the motors resembling a succession of rifle-shots the sounds were like those of a whip being cracked, yet as the airship descended steadily to a height of five thousand feet the noise resumed its normal and distracting violence.
The spy sat down again. His torpor was returning. The sudden change of altitude had resulted in a steady flow of blood from his nose, while his ear-drums throbbed until they seemed on the point of bursting. At that moment he felt that he would not have minded had the airship been blown to atoms.
But the next instant his lassitude vanished, as the loud pop-pop-pop of two of her machine-guns roused him from his stupor. The weapon on the starboard side was trained as far as possible abaft the beam and was pumping out nickel into the darkness.
Craning his neck over the shoulders of the men serving the belt-ammunition von Eitelwurmer saw a sight that caused his agonies of mind to return with redoubled violence.
Just visible against the loom of the starlit sky was a huge biplane that, climbing steeply, seemed to be steadily overhauling the airship. Serenely unmindful of the hail of bullets aimed at her the seaplane held on with the obvious intention of getting astride her prey.
Mingled with the detonations of the machine-guns were the clanging of telephone bells, the clank of machinery and the excited voices of the crew. Then with a jerk that threw the spy violently against the after bulkhead the Zeppelin leapt skywards. Simultaneously dense volumes of black smoke eddied in through the open windows.
Sprawling in the intense darkness upon the ice-encrusted floor of the gondola the spy vainly strove to shriek, but only a gurgled sound came from his lips. He had not the slightest doubt but that the airship was on fire and on the point of crashing to her doom.
Hearing the stifled cry, for again the motors were stopped, one of the crew gripped him roughly by the arm, and set him on his feet.