He caught his breath and motioned for me to sneak behind him. I counted Alice’s shots and it seemed that she must have to reload her gun. I jumped from behind the door and with several hurried steps found myself again by the side of my friend.
“There is an entire laboratory filled with chemicals inside that building,” he said. “There is enough destructive power to decimate half of Europe! We must destroy it!”
He looked at the gun in my hand and scratched his chin thoughtfully.
There was not much that we could destroy with only one rifle.
Suddenly we heard angry shouting from the window on the first floor of the castle. We turned in the direction of the sound and Alice, who also turned, cried out from her hiding place.
“Rupert, no!”
Lord Darringford stood in the window, looking like a madman. In one hand he held a stick of dynamite and in the other a lit match. He lit the fuse, laughed maniacally and threw it at us. The dynamite arched and landed near us.
It exploded and everything around us shook. A shower of clay, sand and turf fell on our heads.
“Stop you fool!” Alice yelled. “You will ruin everything!”
He heard, but did listen. He pulled out another stick of dynamite.
This one landed right near the tank. The scaffolding swayed and started to collapse. The boards rained down upon us.
Holmes coughed up dust.
“I have an idea! We must get to that tank!”
We tossed aside the boards and were soon behind the tank. We quickly found the door and opened it. Inside there was room for a two-man crew.
Rupert, infuriated that we were still alive, sought to gain a better position and view. He then noticed what I had seen earlier. The roof of the outbuilding that contained the laboratory was adjacent to the wall of the castle, making it relatively easy to attain from the window in which Darringford stood. He only needed to swing across a ledge and jump several feet below.
While he shoved sticks of dynamite into his belt and Alice yelled at him furiously from below, Holmes and I enclosed ourselves in the tank.
We gladly discovered that it was a fully functional prototype. The barrel was loaded with one shot. The controls consisted of a relatively simple system of levers.
The detective grasped them and started the tank with his good hand.
The engine roared and began to run. Alice’s eyes widened and she jumped out of the car. With the tube of plans pressed closely to her breast, like a beloved child, she again started shooting at us. The bullets bounced harmlessly off the tank. From the narrow slit I saw how she turned numb.
For the first time she looked helpless.
Holmes shifted the levers and the tank slowly rumbled. The heavy truck easily dug out of the rubble of the fallen scaffolding and lurched forward.
By that time Rupert had attained the roof of the laboratory, from where he could see the whole courtyard. He lit another stick of dynamite and threw it at the tank.
At the same moment Holmes shifted the levers and drove towards Alice.
She screamed and ran to hide, but the tank ploughed into her Ford. We felt the front of the armoured vehicle lift. Through the slit the walls of the castle fell away and we saw the cloudy sky. The tracks crushed the Ford beneath them as though it were paper. Holmes then turned the tank and headed back to the laboratory.
But the madman on the roof was already lighting another stick of dynamite.
We could not wait. The detective pursed his lips and placed his hand on the cannon controls.
He aimed it at the laboratory building, on top of which the villain stood, and fired.
A gigantic projectile flew from the barrel of the tank and hit the building with incredible force. There was an enormous roar and stones cascaded in all directions. Rupert, still holding the burning explosive, yelped with surprised as the roof gave way under his feet and he fell down.
But our cannon did not kill Lord Darringford. That was accomplished by his own dynamite and the explosives which he still had in his belt.
A few seconds after he vanished into the demolished laboratory there was a large explosion followed by a series of smaller ones. We heard glass shattering, metal twisting, wood breaking and stone grating. From the ruins a fiery geyser erupted, throwing everything high into the air.
There was no way Alice’s brother could have survived the blast.
An enormous black cloud of stinking gas formed above the collapsed and burning building. The hidden chemicals burned. Had they been properly mixed, even more damage would have been done. But now they simply burned and dispersed harmlessly into the air.
The courtyard was now a blackened ruin covered with splinters of wood, burning tar, grit and dust. The fire erupted, accompanied by crackling noises.
Alice was knocked to the ground by the force of the explosion.
“Rupert?” she gasped.
Fire is a good servant, but a bad master. Alice had lost her power over it.
XVII: Her Father’s Daughter
I opened the hatch of the tank and looked into the courtyard where Alice Moriarty’s dream was going up in smoke. A burning tuft of grass fell in my hair. I slowly pulled it out and tossed it to the ground.
I cannot describe just how tired I felt. Our sleepless night spent hurtling through the freezing darkness to Glinney, and the exhausting events following our arrival, had left me drained.
Holmes was not much better off. His crippled hand was hanging next to his body. And the most important thing still remained to be done: to retrieve the secret documents that I had turned over to Alice.
I looked around.
Alice was again on her feet. She was running towards the triplane With the tube strapped to her back.
I jumped down, but after crouching in the tight space of the tank, my old legs cramped and prevented me from moving. Thus I also blocked the way for Holmes, who cursed under his breath, giving Alice just enough time to get the propellers of the plane in motion and to clamber aboard. She did not waste any time preparing the plane for takeoff. Before we managed to scramble out of the tank the engine roared into action and the plane bounded through the gates of the castle. It picked up speed and raced onto the plain.
“Damn!” said Holmes.
“How will we catch her?” I cried. “We destroyed her car and the tank is too slow!”
Our gaze fell on Lord Darringford’s car, which was covered with a tarp.
We ran over to it and tossed aside the rubble, shook off the smouldering chips that were burning holes into the tarp, and together tore it off. Untouched by the previous events the Silver Ghost now appeared before us.
“Where is the rifle with the telescopic sight?” asked the detective.
I had left it by the side of the tank when we boarded. It was now leaning against the remains of the destroyed scaffolding in the middle of the courtyard. I ran over to fetch it while Holmes started the car.
“Have you ever driven before?” I asked.
“No, but I’ve read about it.”
“Can you manage with one hand?”
“I shall have to. I drove the tank, after all. But the rest is up to you, Watson. I cannot hold the rifle in one hand, and I could hardly pull the trigger with my crushed left index finger. I hope that you are a good shot and will not panic. England depends on you!”
It was a heavy burden.
Without further ado he motioned to me to get in, and we raced after the plane.
With the burning castle behind us we headed straight for the rolling aircraft, which was searching for a stretch of flat land from which to take off.
Holmes floored the gas pedal. Soil flew in all directions and the wheels bounced wildly as we sped highways and byways after our graceful nemesis.