We were passing over Essex, for I could plainly see the Thames widening upon my right, and I was gradually overhauling the enemy.
At that moment I steadied myself, for I knew that the smallest slip would mean death to us both. At signal from me Teddy—who had already had the dynamo running for some time—placed his hand upon the switch which controlled the unseen, but deadly current.
Slowly I crept nearer and nearer. Four thousand yards off—three thousand—another spurt—then I judged I was only two thousand yards away. Yet try how I would, I could get no nearer.
Again I set to work and, letting out my roaring engines to their full power, I slowly decreased the space between the fleeing monster and myself, Teddy still awaiting my signal.
Next instant I saw yet another spurt of fire from the rear gondola of the Zeppelin, and felt a hot, burning sensation in my forearm.
Then I knew that I had been hit!
I nudged Teddy, and he nodded. He understood and with the end of the box in which was the large, lens something like a camera, directed full upon the enemy, he pulled over the switch.
The result was appalling.
Next instant there was a blinding flash as the electric sparks flying from point to point all over the metal framework of the Zeppelin ignited the hydrogen; a huge red burst of flame came from the centre of the great airship, and following it was a terrific explosion, the frightful force of which would have turned us completely over had I not been prepared.
