checked herself then, too, feeling instinctively that Vandermeer had
grown rich too recently for him to help any one but himself just at
present.
The introduction of brother to husband went off very well indeed.
Vandermeer was so hearty, and held Roy's hand so affectionately, that
when they were getting ready for dinner Mimika ventured to approach the
subject again.
"And listen, Julius, you'll be able to help Roy just a little, too,
won't you?" she said, putting her hands up to her hair before the mirror
in her bedroom.
"What do you mean, Mimika, by help?" Vandermeer's voice rolled in a very
unsatisfactory way from the adjoining room.
"Oh, of course there's only one kind of help Roy would accept," she
replied hastily. "He's going to write something about the sea, and he
thinks you might give him some hints."
"Why, certainly, Mimika. They say there's a book in every man's life."
The voice was thoroughly hearty again now. "In mine I should say there
would be a hundred books. I will tell him some splendid things."
Even more jovial was the mood of Julius Vandermeer that evening after
dinner; and he expanded his rosy views of the future to his
brother-in-law over their cigars and a steaming rum punch flavored with
lemon, which was his own invention for coping with the cold of a
California night. He called it his "smudge pot."
"And now, Roy," he said at last, "I hope your own affairs go well. It is
a great thing, the gift of expression. I wish I had it. Ah, what books I
could write! The things I have seen, things you will never see in
print!"
"That's precisely what I want to discuss with you, Julius. I have just
signed a contract with the Copley-Willard Publishing Company to write
them a serial dealing with the heroism of the merchant marine in
war-time. I don't mind confessing that I told them a little about
you--said you had no end of crackajack material I could use. The result
was the best contract I've yet made with any publisher; so I owe that to
you. The Star News Company was very well satisfied with my record as a
correspondent; but I bungled the contract with them. If I can put this
thing through it means that I shan't be a poor relation much longer. Now
if you can only give me a good subject and put me wise on the seamanship
and help me to get the local color, the rest will be as easy as falling
off a log. You must have had a good many experiences, for instance, with
the submarines, when you were crossing the Atlantic twice a month."
"Experiences--why, yes, many experiences; but my good fortune
comes--well--from my good fortune. I am like the happy nation. I have
not had much history for these two years. But I have seen things--oh,
yes, I have seen things--that were like what you call clues--clues to
many strange tales."
"That's precisely what I want--a rattling good clue!"
"Well now, let me think. There were some interesting things about those
big merchant submarines that the Germans sent at one time across the
Atlantic."
"Like the _Deutschland_, you mean?"
"Yes; and there were others, never mentioned in the newspapers. One or
two of them disappeared. Perhaps the British destroyed them. Nobody
knows. But it was reported that one of them was carrying a million
dollars' worth of diamonds to the United States. Think of that, Roy! A
submarine full of diamonds! Doesn't that kindle your imagination?"
"Gee! I should say it would!" remarked Mimika, putting down the highly
colored magazine in which she had been studying the latest New York
fashions.
"Depends what happened to it," said Roy.
"Come, then, I will tell you a little story," said Vandermeer; "but you
must not mention my name about this one. How did I come to know it? Ah,
perhaps by some strange accident I met the only man who could tell the
truth about it. Perhaps I was able to do him some small service. In any
case that is a different matter. This story must be your own, Roy. It
shall come from what you call your creative impulse."
Mimika plumped down on a cushion at her lord's feet to listen. He patted
her shoulder affectionately with his big left paw, which showed up in a
somewhat startling contrast with its rough skin and long red hairs
against that smooth whiteness. With his right hand he filled himself the
third glass of rum punch that he had taken that evening. He smacked his
lips between two sips.
"Help yourself, Roy," he said, "and take another cigar. Yes, I will tell
you. Take a sip, Mimika. That is good, heh? Now I shall need no more
sugar.
"Well, Roy, just imagine. This big merchant submarine leaves Hamburg
loaded with diamonds! A million dollars' worth of diamonds, all going to
the United States, because it is necessary that Germany shall pay some
of her bills. There is a crew of only twenty men, because they need them
for the U-boats. All of these men are sulky, rebellious. They have been
forced to do this work against their will. They were happy on their
ships in the Kiel Canal, except that there was always the chance of
being picked for submarine duty. When they are lined up for that--ah, it
is like waiting to be named for the guillotine, in the Reign of Terror!
They have courage, but their hands shake, their lips are blue and their
hearts are sick. It is the death sentence. Either this week, or the
next, or the next they will be missing. Certainly in eight weeks their
places must be filled again. They are just fishes' food. Picture then
the choosing of these men. There is your first chapter, heh?
"Now for the second. You must picture the captain. He is the most
rebellious of all, for his life has been spared longer than most, but
his life on the submarine is a living death. He is a good sailor, yes,
in any surface vessel; but in the first place the submarine makes him
sick at the stomach--the smells, the bad air, the joggle-joggle of the
engine, the lights turned down to save the batteries. All that depresses
him; and he has always the thought that, if one little thing goes wrong,
he will die like a man buried alive in a big steel coffin, with nineteen
others, all fighting for breath. It is a nightmare--the only nightmare
that ever frightened him."
Captain Vandermeer certainly had a vivid imagination or else his own
creative impulse, aided by frequent draughts of rum punch, was carrying
him away; for his bulging blue eyes looked as if they would burst out of
their canary-lashed lids.
"Moreover, this captain has been in a fighting submarine that has
shocked his nerves. He has grown used to scenes of death. He has come to
the surface and seen many scores of men and women drowning, and he has
watched them till he minds it no more than drowning flies. But twice he
has found himself entangled in a steel net, and escaped by miracle. That
is not so pleasant. When it was decided to send him to the United States
on a merchant submarine, what was his first thought? What would be
yours, Roy, in that position?"
"A bedroom and bath at the hotel Vanderbilt," replied Roy promptly.
"You follow the clue very well, my boy. You have a clever brother,
Mimika. The first thought of the captain is this: If I can get safely
through the ring of the enemy the rest of the voyage will not be so bad.
I shall make most of it on the surface, and I shall have a breathing
spell in a great city outside the war. That will make the second
chapter, heh? Now what is his next thought, Mimika?"
"Why, listen! If I once got to New York I should want to stay there,"
replied Mimika, helping herself to a large piece of candy.
"Ah, what a clever sister you have, my dear Roy!" said Vandermeer, and
both his red streaked paws descended approvingly on Mimika's white
shoulders. "How beautifully we compose this tale together, heh? But he
has not yet reached America, and he has a submarine full of diamonds on
his hands; also a crew of twenty men; also his orders as an officer in
the German Navy.
"Well, let us suppose he has come safely through the ring of the enemy,
after several nightmares. He runs on the surface almost always now, and
he is losing his bad dreams for a time.
"One night he is on deck looking at the stars and thinking, who knows
what thoughts, when the youngest engineer, a nice little fellow, a
Bavarian, you might say, with flaxen hair and blue eyes, just as pretty
as a girl, comes up to him. His face is as white and smooth as Mimika's
shoulders--but there is no powder on it, heh? And his blue eyes are
frightened.
"'Captain,' he says, 'I want to warn you. There is a plot among the men
to kill you.'
"'To kill me!' the captain says. 'Why should they wish to kill me,
Otto?'
"'They've gone crazy about the diamonds. They say they have had enough
of this life, and they will never go back to Germany. They mean to take
the diamonds and sell them a few at a time in America. Then they will
live like princes. They think I'm joining them.'
"'Is there nobody but yourself on my side?' says the captain.
"'Nobody now,' says Otto.
"'Very well. Thank you, my boy. I will see that you are rewarded for
this. When are they going to do it?'
"'When we are submerged and nearing the three-mile limit.'
"'Thank you, Otto,' says the captain again.
"And there's your third chapter; and your fourth, too, Roy--a dramatic
situation, heh?"
Roy appeared to think so, and on the strength of it he filled
Vandermeer's glass again. He was anxious to help the creative impulse.
"What follows?" continued Vandermeer. "In your tales to-day you must
have psychology. The captain is a clever man. What would you do in that
position, Roy? He cannot fight them all. I will tell you what he does.
He is a diplomatist. He shapes his policy, standing there on the deck of
the submarine all alone, under the stars.
"The next evening he orders rum all round, just like this--good rum,
from his own little cask, which he keeps for the sake of his stomach. It
is a beautiful evening, a sea like oil, and the setting sun makes a road
of gold to the shores of America. They are approaching the happy land.
The men themselves are more cheerful, and like a good diplomatist he
seizes the cheerful moment.
"Not only does he give them rum but he gives them cigars, also from his
private box--expensive cigars, just like these.
"'I have a proposition to make,' he says. 'We are all sick of the war,
and I myself am more sick of it than anybody.'
"They all stare at him, wondering what he will say next; and the little
Bavarian opens his blue eyes like a girl, and stares more than any of
them. He thinks perhaps the end of the world will come now.
"'There is nobody here,' says the captain, 'that wishes to return. Why
should we return? There is a million dollars in diamonds aboard, enough
to make every one of us rich. We are going to the great republic. Good!
We will share equally. Every one of us shall have the same amount. I
myself, though I am your captain, will take no more than Otto. That will
be more than fifty thousand dollars for each one of us.'
"Immediately the last of the clouds vanishes like magic from the crew.
There is nothing but smiles all round him, smiles and the smell of rum
and good cigars, just like these. They are all good comrades together,
shaking hands, except the little Bavarian. He is sitting back behind the
gyroscopic compass watching the captain, with big eyes and a solemn face
like the infant Saint John.
"And why should they not all be satisfied--except the captain, who is
perhaps only pretending to be satisfied? They lose only a twentieth part
of their money by including him. On the other hand the captain loses a
million dollars, to which these robbers had no more right than you or
I."
"I guess the little Bavarian was sorry he spoke," said Roy; and he
filled Vandermeer's glass again.
"The little Bavarian was a child, an innocent. He had no will to power,
heh? He comes again to the captain late that night, on deck under the
stars. His face looks thin and miserable. 'Captain,' he says, 'did you
mean your words to those men?'
"'What else could I say, Otto, to save the diamonds, and my life, and
perhaps yours? You do not understand diplomacy, Otto.'
"The face of the little Bavarian grows brighter. 'Forgive me, my
captain!' he says. 'But I had begun to doubt even you, for a moment. I
was thinking of the Fatherland.'
"Now, the captain was much obliged to Otto. His policy was complete in
his mind for fooling those robbers, and he would have been glad to save
this little Bavarian, who had warned him. But he begins to see an
obstacle. He thinks he will put this little fellow to the trial.
"'Come now, Otto,' he says, 'it is very well to think of the Fatherland
if you and I could save it. But do you think a few hundred shining
pebbles will make any odds? These robbers shall not have them. But
supposing we share them, there is nobody in the Fatherland that would be
any poorer. They belong to the state, Otto, and if they should be shared
with every one in Germany not one man would be a pfennig the better.
"'But see what a difference this would make to you and me! We are in a
state of necessity, Otto; and above that state there is no power, as the
Chancellor told the Reichstag. Very well, in this case I quote Louis the
Fourteenth: "_L'état, c'est moi_!" and Frederick the Great, also. Have I
the might to do it, Otto? Very well, then, according to the spokesman of
the Fatherland I have also the right.'
"'I do not understand you, my captain,' says this little blue-eyed baby,
'but I know well that you mean to do right.'
"'You shall have not fifty but a hundred thousand dollars' worth for
your share, Otto, because you have been faithful,' says the captain;
'but you must not think too many beautiful thoughts till we are safe on
shore. I have arranged everything in my mind. Go down and sleep.'
"'For God's sake, captain,' cries this funny little fellow, dropping on
his knees, 'tell me what you mean to do!' And the tears begin to roll
down his face.
"'It is not safe to trust you yet, Otto. You might talk in your sleep,'
says the captain. 'Do as I bid you. We shall see what we shall see.'
"Very well, Roy, there is at least four chapters to be made from that,
heh?
"We come now to the crisis. The submarine is nearing the end of her
voyage. They begin to see ships and they submerge. The captain has told
them, instead of making for New York he is heading for the coast of
Maine, where there will be better opportunities of destroying the
submarine and landing unobserved. It is about six o'clock in the
evening, when he peeks through the periscope. They are within a short
distance of the mainland, but they must lie on the bottom till midnight,
when it will be safer to go ashore. They are all very happy. Once more
he gives them rum all round, just like this, and advises them to sleep,
for they will get no sleep after midnight.
"They sleep very soundly, all except the little Bavarian and the
captain. Why? Because the captain keeps the medicine chest as well as
the diamonds. If he had had something stronger in his medicine chest it
would have saved him much trouble and danger.
"While they sleep the captain takes out the diamonds from the strong box
and puts them in his inside pockets. Then he examines the batteries. He
is an expert engineer. He can make the batteries work when every one
else thinks they are dead. Also he can make them die, so that even he
can never make them work again. He examines other parts of the
machinery--those which enable the submarine to rise to the surface. He
will not allow the little Bavarian to watch what he is doing. Then he
puts on his life-belt, and looks at the men snoring in their hammocks
and on the floor. Some of them are stirring in their sleep. There is no
time to lose or he may be interrupted. At last he is ready. The
submarine will never rise to the surface again, and the sea will never
betray the secret.
"There is only one way for him to get out, and it is not a pleasant way.
But in his nightmares he has often rehearsed it, and he has always made
sure that it could be done before he went to sea. There must always be
a way out for one man at least, if not for more. '_L'état, c'est moi!_'
"He beckons to the little Bavarian. 'I have all the diamonds in my
pocket,' he says. 'The time is come for you to help me, Otto.'
"Now, Roy, you know what the conning tower of a submarine is like
inside? It is like a round chimney, with a lid at the top to keep out
the water when you are submerged. You can climb up into this conning
tower and steer the ship from it if you wish. There is also another lid
at the bottom of the conning tower, which you can close as well. Then if
you wish you can flood your chimney with water.
"Now, if a submarine cannot rise to the surface, it is possible for a
man to climb into this conning tower. Another man then closes the lid
below and floods the tower very slowly. When the water reaches the head
of the man in the tower there is just enough pressure for him to push
open the lid at the top and shoot up to the surface. The lid at the top
can then be closed from the interior of the submarine. The lower lid can
be opened slowly, and the water from the tower pours out into the hull.
Then, perhaps, another man can climb up into the tower, and the process
can be repeated. There is room for only one man at a time.
"The captain tells the little Bavarian that he is going to do this.
'But, my captain, it is very dangerous. You may be drowned. It is not
certain that you can open it. The pressure may be too great above.'
"'It is for the Fatherland, Otto,' says the captain; and the little
Bavarian salutes, standing at attention, just like a pretty little wax
doll.
"'When the men wake, you will be able to follow by the same road,' says
the captain, and he climbs up into the conning tower.
"The lower lid is closed. The water begins to creep up round the
captain's knees in the darkness. He is horribly frightened. He has a
crowbar in his hand to help him to open the upper lid quickly, but he
still thinks perhaps it will not open. When the water has reached his
waist he begins to push at the upper lid, but it cannot move yet. The
weight of the whole sea above is pressing down. He knows it cannot move
but he cannot help pushing at it, till the sweat breaks out on him,
though the water is like ice. It is worse than he expected, worse than
any of his nightmares. The water reaches to his neck. He struggles with
all his strength, and still the lid will not move. A prayer comes to his
lips. The cold water creeps--creeps over his chin. There is only three
inches now between his face and the lid. He holds his head back to keep
his nostrils above the water, fighting, fighting always to open the lid.
Then the water covers his face. The conning tower is full.
"He holds his breath, gives one last push, and feels the lid opening,
opening softly, like the big steel door of a safe in a bank. His crowbar
is wedged under the lid, between the hinges, just as he wished. In four
seconds he is shooting up, up to the surface, with his chest bursting,
like a diver that has seen a shark.
"For a minute he floats there in the darkness, under the stars.
Then--perhaps the struggle has been greater even than he knew--he
faints. It is fortunate that his life-belt is a good one, for when he
recovers he has floated perhaps a long time. He is very cold. He takes a
drink of rum from his flask and gets his bearings. He is two miles from
the coast. Yes, but he is a clever man. There is one of those little
islands, covered with pine trees, just a hundred and fifty yards away.
There is also a wooden house on the island; and a landing stage with a
dinghy hauled up on the shore.
"The owner of the boat is careful. He has taken his oars to bed with
him. But the captain is a clever man. It is a beautiful night. He has
plenty of time, and he can paddle with one of the loose boards in the
bottom of the dinghy."
"But listen! What became of the little Bavarian?" said Mimika.
"Well, I was not there to see," said Captain Vandermeer, lighting a
cigar, "but when the men woke they must all have tried to get out by the
same way."
"And they couldn't?" asked Roy. He was watching Vandermeer with a very
curious expression--almost as if he were examining an eyewitness.
"The captain was an expert engineer--ah, a magnificent engineer!--as I
told you, Roy, and there was a leetle crowbar wedged under what we have
been calling the lid of the conning tower."
"Good God, what an idea! You mean they couldn't close the upper lid
again?"
"They might think they had closed it." Vandermeer gave a deep guttural
chuckle. "Then they would open the lower lid, heh?"
"And then?"
"Why, then the sea would come running into the hull, and they would be
drowned."
"Oh, but not the poor little Bavarian!" said Mimika.
"_L'état, c'est moi_," said Vandermeer with a smile.
Roy was looking at him still with the same pensive expression as of a
youthful Buddha.
"I suppose he had no difficulty in getting rid of the diamonds," he
said.
"Probably not," said Vandermeer. "Perhaps he would keep a few as a
reserve--a kind of Landsturm. But he would buy Liberty Bonds, heh?"
"And you mean to say that a man like that is going about in the United
States now?" said Mimika.
Vandermeer chuckled again.
"Who knows?" he said. "Perhaps he has come to Southern California.
Perhaps he has bought a nice little ranch--a fruit ranch, just like
this, heh?--where he shall live a happy and healthy life to the age of a
hundred. And now, Mimika, it is getting time for little girls to go to
bed."
About two o'clock in the morning Mimika was wakened by a guttural
choking cry from her husband. She was so startled that she slipped out
of bed and stood staring at him. The moon was flooding the room almost
like a searchlight, and Captain Vandermeer lay in the full stream of it.
While she watched him he rose slowly to a sitting posture, with his eyes
still shut and his hands clenched above his face. He began muttering to
himself, in a low voice at first, and then so loudly that it echoed
through the house; and the words sounded more like German than Dutch.
Then he began fighting for breath, like a man in a nightmare. He tore
his pyjama jacket open over the great red hairy chest.
"Otto!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Otto!" Then with a huge
sigh he sank back on the pillows, whispering "I have opened it."
There was a tap on the door. Mimika snatched up a dressing gown, the
first garment she could lay her hands on--it happened to be
Vandermeer's--wrapped it round her, glided across the room and opened
the door. Her brother stood there, also in a dressing gown and
bare-footed. Their eyes met without a word. He took her hand, led her
outside and closed the door quietly behind them.
"You heard him, Roy?" she whispered.
"Come downstairs," he said. "I want to ask you some questions about
this."
They went down to the den at the back of the house, and stood there
looking at each other's faces.
"He told us a tale to-night," said Roy at last.
"Yes," said Mimika faintly.
"Do you know what he was calling out in his nightmare?"
"It sounded like German," she said.
"Yes, it was German; and it gave me a good deal more local color than I
expected. That was a true story all right, Mimika."
"You mean that he--"
"Yes."
"Oh, but, Roy!"
"That's his dressing gown you're wearing, isn't it?"
"Yes, I picked it up in a hurry."
"There's been too much hurry about everything, I'm afraid. Why the devil
did I go to Europe! Here, Mimika, take off that thing and put mine on.
I don't like to see you in it. It doesn't suit you, little sister."
She obeyed him, with a small white frightened face; but it was not the
white of powder now. Roy thrust his hand into the pocket of Vandermeer's
dressing gown. Something jingled. He pulled out a bunch of keys.
"Vandermeer told me I was good at following up a clue. I'm going to
follow one now, Mimika," he said. "This is the key of the safe."
He opened the safe, looked hastily at the bundles of papers and then
pulled out the chamois leather bag. "Look here, Mimika!" he said and
poured a glittering river of diamonds, several hundred of them, on to
the table. The moonlight played over them with an uncanny brilliance.
"That's his Landsturm," said Roy; "and that settles it."
He took Mimika's hand, and she made no protest as he withdrew the
wedding ring from her finger and added it to the glittering heap on the
table.