The Explosion
The instinct of self-preservation, coupled with the fact that he yet
had a faint chance of escape, rallied the semi-torpid Swaine
sufficiently to enable him to take action.
He dropped the knife and groped for the release-valve of the
compressed-air reservoir. Half a turn, and he felt the buoyant air
rushing into the double folds of his diving-suit. Even as he realized
that he was parting company with the bottom of the lagoon he found
himself looking at his late antagonist, who was writhing in agony,
with a ruddy stream mixed with air-bubbles rising from the clean-cut
stump of his severed arm.
Not knowing why he did so, whether it was the irresponsible act of a
light-headed man, the sudden impulse of an overstrung brain, or
generous pity for a beaten foe, Swaine gripped the fellow by the arm,
at the same time turning the release-valve of his buoyancy-flask full
on.
Up he shot to the full extent of arm's length and no farther. The
lifting powers of the inflated diving-dress were sufficient only for
one. Weighed down by his former antagonist, Swaine saw no chance of
bringing the latter to the surface, until an inspiration seized him.
Having once set his hand to the plough, he was loth to turn back
until his task was completed.
The unknown's knife was at that moment seriously incommoding a shark;
his own had dropped, but he remembered it was attached by a lanyard
to his belt. He recovered it; then, still retaining his hold of the
other diver, he pulled himself down until he was able to slash the
lashings that secured the leaden weights to the fellow's chest and
shoulders.
Then, and then only, did both men rise to the surface, Swaine
horizontally, the other vertically owing to the fact that his feet
were still weighted with lumps of lead.
For the next hour, as far as Swaine was concerned, everything was a
blank.
He recovered consciousness to find himself lying on a mattress on the
deck of the _Titania_.
"How's the other bloke?" were his first words.
"The other bloke," replied Villiers, "is progressing favourably in
the circumstances."
As a matter of fact, although the fellow's identity was revealed
directly his helmet was removed, none of the others knew that a
life-and-death duel was in progress when the shark butted in so
opportunely. They were greatly surprised to find Swaine bob up
unconscious from the bottom, still grasping the apparently lifeless
form of his late antagonist--Siegfried Strauss.
While Villiers and Beverley set to work to restore their comrade to
consciousness, Harborough, O'Loghlin, and Trevear did a like office
for the German. They were puzzled as to the cause of the loss of the
man's hand, for the amputation had been performed as cleanly as if by
a knife, while the pressure of his rubber wrist-band had checked what
would have been a dangerous haemorrhage. Applying a tourniquet before
cutting away the diving-dress, the three amateur surgeons felt that
they had succeeded in saving the German's life unless he sank under
the effect of shock to the system.
Although curious to hear Swaine's version of the business, his
comrades wisely forbore to question him until he had completely
recovered from his narrow escape. Meanwhile they were putting forward
numerous conjectures as to the reason for Strauss' submarine jaunt.
"Where could he have come from?" asked Beverley. "The _Zug_ isn't
anywhere in sight."
"Unless she's off the other side of the island," added Villiers.
"Even then he must have started from a much nearer base. We'll have
to investigate."
"Why did he?" persisted Beverley. "That's what I want to know."
He received his answer in no uncertain way.
A tremendous roar rent the sky, followed by a rush of air and the
noise of cascades of water falling into the sea. Over the spot where
lay the wreck of the _Fusi Yama_ the usually placid surface of the
lagoon was lashed into a wide cauldron of leaping, hissing foam.
"Fritz again--the dirty dog!" exclaimed Harborough, when the
reverberations of the detonation had subsided. "It might have been
worse if we had been working on the boat."
Where the two boats, joined by a platform, had been, was a patch of
discoloured water, on which shattered fragments of timber were
bobbing in the strong sunlight. Had the working-party not ceased work
to convey the rival divers to the yacht, no one would have escaped
the force of the explosion.
"This is not the work of one man," declared Villiers. "Let's get
ashore."
The suggestion was promptly acted upon, and on gaining the beach
Harborough and his companions were greeted by the spectacle of Dick
Beverley and Pete, armed with rifles, driving before them a couple of
the _Zug's_ crew, who marched with arms upheld in the good
old-fashioned way they were taught in the Great War.
"Pete and I had been after pigs," explained Dick. "We were on our way
back when we saw two strange men lying face downwards on the cliff,
apparently watching the _Titania_. Of course, we couldn't do anything
then, except watch them, because the land isn't our private property,
but when that explosion went off and they began laughing and shaking
hands we thought it time to have a say in the matter. We did," he
added grimly, "and they came quietly."
The prisoners, finding that they were not beaten, kicked, or
otherwise misused by their captors after the custom of certain German
officers in charge of prison-camps during the war, became fairly
communicative.
Four men, under the command of Siegfried Strauss, had left Ni Telang
in one of the _Zug's_ boats, and landed on Nua Leha close to the spot
where Dick had met with a mishap during his first pig-hunting
expedition.
Leaving one man in charge of the boat, Strauss and the other three,
carrying explosives, an electric automatic time-fuse, and two divers'
suits, crossed the island, keeping under the shelter of the palm
groves until they reached the cove where the two sea-planes had been
berthed.
While two of the men kept watch, Siegfried and a companion donned
their diving-dresses and walked into the sea.
What happened could only be left to conjecture, unless Strauss at a
later date thought fit to explain his movements. Apparently they
found the wreck and placed their explosive charges in position. Upon
the return journey they became separated. His course deflected by the
current, Strauss found himself confronted by Swaine, the former's
astonishment being almost as great as the latter's. Of the fate of
the other Hun diver nothing was ever known. He might have been eaten
by a shark, or he might have lost direction and been killed by the
shock of the explosion, or else, which was more likely, he was
asphyxiated owing to the failure of his air-supply.
That afternoon Merridew, O'Loghlin, Griffiths, and Bell, all armed,
proceeded to the place where the _Zug's_ boat lay. They made an easy
capture of the last member of the submarine raiding-party, and, what
was a welcome prize, the boat as well--a stoutly-built 25-feet
cutter.
They returned to the camp in the boat, following the shore inside the
reef, and the three prisoners were placed under lock and key in one
of the _Titania's_ cabins, the crew taking turns to keep watch
outside the door to prevent any attempt to escape.
Next morning Villiers volunteered to descend to the wreck and
ascertain the state of the hull after the explosion. Since the
guide-rope had been severed, the captured boat was pressed into
service and moored as close as possible, going by cross-bearings, to
the spot where the lighting-plant had been stationed. Since the
latter had been destroyed, Villiers had to rely upon his portable
electric lamp.
The depth to which he descended before his feet touched the bottom
surprised him. It was greater than he had previously worked in, and
no natural light penetrated the dark waters. At first he fancied he
was in a submarine forest. Gaunt ribs, distorted in the rays of the
lamp, reared themselves on either hand. Closer examination showed
that they were not metal but timber, badly eaten by worms, and
thickly encrusted with barnacles.
His foot catching in some obstacle caused him to throw the light of
the lamp upon the ground.
He was standing on a bed of coral on which lay dark shapes in
hundreds, like a cart load of bricks dumped on the ground.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed to himself. "I've come to the wrong shop.
This must be the wooden hulk Swaine spoke about. She must have had
lead pigs for ballast. Even that lot's worth a fortune at the
present-day price for lead."
Hardly knowing why he did so, Villiers lashed one of the pigs of
ballast to his shot-rope, then, paying out his distance-line as he
went, he made for his real objective--the wreck of the _Fusi Yama_.
When that vessel's bilge loomed through the water, Villiers found
that he was close to the starboard bow. Much of the steelwork had
been stripped of its thick covering of weed and barnacles by the
force of the explosion, but of actual damage done to the hull there
was none.
By a rare slice of good luck, as far as Harborough and his companions
were concerned, Strauss had miscalculated the distance and direction
of the wreck of the _Fusi Yama_ from shore, and had deposited the
explosive charges against the side of the old wooden wreck in the
belief that it was the other. The remainder of the gold was still
intact. Von Giespert had shot his last bolt, and the missile had gone
wide of the mark.