TTACKED BY THE ENEMY.

Captain Wallace and the entire ship's company were overjoyed at my
escape from the clutches of the enemy. The loss of six of our brave
sailors was a terrible calamity in any case, but still more so in view
of the impending attack by the enemy's navy.

We had a good stock of gunpowder on board, and the ship's mechanics
under Professor Rackiron began the construction of a series of machine
guns, each weapon having one hundred rifled barrels arranged in
circles around the central tube. Twenty-five of these guns were
constructed. To each tube was fitted a magazine, with automatic
attachment, so that one man could handle each weapon, that would throw
five hundred balls with each charge of the magazine.

The fletyemings of the royal navy possessed the advantage of numbers
and ships, so that it was necessary for us to have the advantage in
point of arms. Our monster terrorite gun and the terrorite battery
gave us also an immense advantage over the gunpowder batteries of the
enemy. Thus equipped, we were more than a match for any ten ships of
the enemy. But when we saw one hundred vessels, the smallest of which
was as large as our own, and many twice our size, bearing down upon us
in battle array, we felt our chances of escape, not to mention
victory, were hardly worth calculating.

It was a splendid scene for a naval battle. The harbor of Kioram was a
bay fully fifty miles in diameter, and here lay the royal fleet, whose
hulls of gleaming gold shone on the blue water, while beyond rose the
brilliant whiteness of the sculptured city.

Captain Wallace had the ship ready for action. Every soul knew it was
a life-and-death struggle. The sailors knew that success meant wealth
beyond the dreams of avarice. For myself, the prize was something more
worthy of our desperate courage--it was the priceless Lyone, possessed
of a divine personality. Her life, like my own, hung in the balance.
Should I win the battle, we would win each other. Should I fail to
conquer, there was but one kind of defeat, and that was death.

Every man stood at his post in silence. Flathootly had command of a
company of sailors. Professor Rackiron superintended our chief arm of
defence, the terrorite guns--weapons, like our revolvers, fortunately
unknown in Atvatabar. We had a large quantity of explosive terrorite
on board, in the shape of shells for our guns. The shells contained
each the equivalent of 100 pounds of terrorite--that