A strange silence seemed to hang over the capital. There were no signs of movement. Through the field-glasses of the British officers Naocuanha appeared to be a city of the dead. There was not the slightest indication of an attempt about to be made by the superiorly numerical Valderian troops to dispute the advance.
"Wish those beggars would start firing," muttered the Admiral. "A silence like that seems suggestive of an ambuscade. Any report from the seaplanes?"
"G2 and G6 both report no signs of the batteries being manned, sir," announced Lieutenant Eccles.
"Then continue the advance in open order. Maxims in the centre, and quick-firers to cover the advance on either flank. What a rotten country, Staggers! Not a particle of cover."
Silently the attackers extended, then with six feet separating one man from another, the bluejackets and marines approached the frowning walls of Fort San Josef.
Suddenly a succession of short reports burst from seaplane G5. She had opened fire upon some object, still invisible to the attackers on the remote side of the fort.
For quite half a minute there was no reply from the Valderian position; then right and left came the sharp crackle of musketry punctuated by the bark of quick-firers.
Taking a prone position on the grass the British seamen and marines opened a steady fire upon their unseen foes, while the covering guns sent shell after shell into Fort San Josef, over which floated the flag of the republic.
"What's that?" asked Admiral Maynebrace as a report received from G6 was handed to him. "Fort San Josef evacuated? Tell the quick-firers to search the ground to the right and left and not waste time and ammunition on an empty building. By Jove! what's the matter with G5?"
He might well ask that question, for the seaplane was descending with alarming rapidity and apparently right upon the Valderian position. The attackers, seeing her glide earthwards, promptly directed their fire elsewhere, but the devoted G5 was plunging through the zone of fire of the enemy.