Short as the time seemed, it was in reality nearly an hour before the
airship once more rested on the roof of the kasbah. While it was still
hovering above, Tom manoeuvring for a landing, there came the muffled
sound of shots and the rending of wood.
"They've broken in," cried Oliphant.
The Moors had indeed burst through the lower doors, released the
infuriated sheikh, and, finding themselves unable to lift the trapdoor,
were firing upwards through it. Schwab, who had been sitting on the pile
of stones which he and Abdul had heaped on the covering, to reinforce
their weight with his own, slipped off with amazing alacrity just as the
airship came to rest.
"Gott sei Dank!" he exclaimed, as Tom joined him.
[Illustration: "TOM, SEIZING A BIG STONE, THREW IT WITH ALL HIS FORCE
INTO THE BLACK ROOM BENEATH."]
He needed no invitation to hurry into the car. As soon as Abdul was
aboard Tom started the engines. To his consternation the airship again
refused to rise.
"Good heavens! what a weight you must be!" he exclaimed.
"Colossal! But I lose pounds in ze----"
"Oh, shut up!" cried Oliphant impatiently. "We can't make another
journey, Dorrell. The cover won't support the stones much longer with
those ruffians smashing the wood as they're doing."
He had scarcely spoken when the woodwork gave way, the stones crashed
down the staircase, and there were cries of pain and alarm from the men
beneath. But it was impossible to suppose that they were all hurt, and
the passage was now clear for the rest. Something must be done at once
to gain a little time until the problem of removing Schwab's colossal
weight could be solved.
Stopping his engines, which were working furiously, but with no effect,
Tom, followed by Oliphant and the Moor, jumped from the car and hurried
towards the opening. They were greeted by a musket shot; but Tom,
seizing a big stone, threw it with all his force into the black room
beneath. There were more cries from below, repeated when Oliphant and
the Moor followed suit, each with missiles of the same character. Then
there was silence for a time. The Moors were apparently nonplussed.
"You can find your way to the hill if I land you below?" asked Tom of
Abdul.
"Yes, master."
"Hold the roof, Oliphant. I won't be ten minutes. Don't shoot 'em unless
you're very hard pressed."
Tom and the Moor sprang into the car, the airship again ascended, and
came down about a quarter of a mile from the village walls. There was
nobody in sight; without doubt the whole population of the place was
congregated about the kasbah. Once more Tom ascended, alighting on the
roof just as Oliphant, using the wooden shaft of Abdul's hammer, was
driving back one man, more venturesome than the rest, who had attempted
to make his way up. There was no time to carry more stones from the
coping to serve as missiles, so Tom and Oliphant at last fired their
revolvers, two shots each, taking care, however, to avoid the opening.
Tom hoped that the sound of the shots would give pause to the men below,
most of whom must have hitherto been unaware that the intruders carried
firearms.
Immediately after they had fired, the two made a dash for the car,
scrambled aboard, and set the engines in motion.
"Gott sei Dank!" cried Schwab again, as the airship rose steadily above
the roof.
As if they had known by some intuition what was happening, the Moors at
this moment made a rush, and before the airship had sailed a hundred
yards from the kasbah, figures appeared on the roof. A moment afterwards
one or two shots were fired, but they were without effect; the airship
sailed on, pursued by yells of baffled rage.
In order to draw away pursuit from his real direction, Tom headed the
airship north-east, and it was not until he was well out of sight of the
kasbah that he put the helm up and steered straight for the hill-top.
"We've come out of this uncommonly well," said Oliphant. "I was on
thorns all the time you and Abdul were absent."
"We're not out of it yet," rejoined Tom. "The fuel's nearly done. These
comings and goings have used a terrible lot of the paste, and I doubt
whether there's enough to make one journey to the yacht--let alone two. I
didn't reckon on another passenger besides Ingleton."
"Who is this freak? You seem to know him?" Oliphant spoke quietly: Herr
Schwab was lying against the rail of the car only a few feet away.
"Met him once. His name's Schwab; he's an agent for the company I get my
powder from. Haven't had time yet to ask him how he got into this mess.
I say, it looks as if a storm is coming up."
"Yes, the wind's rising, and the clouds are scudding along at a great
pace. How will she behave in a storm?"
"Don't know, and don't want to know just now. We should be in a pretty
hobble if the machine were to get smashed up altogether."
While Tom and Oliphant were thus talking in low tones, Herr Schwab was
deeply ruminating. He had been struck, on the roof of the kasbah, by
something familiar in the speech of this Englishman who was masquerading
as a Moor, but in the agitation of the moment he could not sift his
recollections. Now, however, safe in the car of an aeroplane, sailing
with almost imperceptible motion through the air, he was taking the
opportunity to search his memory. Just as the airship arrived above the
hill-top where Sir Mark Ingleton was waiting, and Tom was preparing to
descend, he was startled by a loud exclamation from the German.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nozink, nozink at all. I know you vat you are. Mr. Thomas Dorrell! And
ze Photographic Sensitizer Preparation Number Six. I know all about him;
jawohl! Zere are business for Schlagintwert: I do not mind ze
captivities now: business are business."
Oliphant looked inquiringly at Tom; but the moment was not propitious
for explanations. Tom's whole attention was engaged by the machinery.
The airship alighted without mishap, and Tom as he stepped out of the
car was greeted by Sir Mark Ingleton.
"I have a new conception of the music of the spheres," he said. "Your
approach was heralded by an immense humming, which, I take it, will
discount the usefulness of the airship in time of war."
"Zat vill be chance for Schlagintwert," interposed Schwab: "to invent
somezink vat stop ze row."
"Precisely," said Sir Mark, with a faint smile.
"How do you feel now, sir?" asked Tom.
"Greatly invigorated by the fresh air. I am glad of your coat. May I
know to whom I am indebted for this surprising change in my fortunes?"
"My name's Dorrell," said Tom. "I happened to be rather lucky in getting
my airship to go just when it could be made useful."
"Viz Schlagintwert's Photographic Sensitizer Preparation Number Six,"
added Schwab.
"This is Mr. Oliphant, Lord Langside's son," Tom went on.
"Indeed!" With fine courtesy Sir Mark perfectly concealed his amazement.
Oliphant still wore his stoker's clothes, and the black smudges on his
face had given him a striking resemblance to a coal-heaver. "I am
grateful to the Prime Minister for this novel and adventurous
expedition," added the envoy.
"My father knows nothing about it, sir," said Oliphant. "We were afraid
he wouldn't allow it if we told him."
"I see. Nothing succeeds like success. Did you come all the way from
England in this admirable machine?"
"No, sir. We were brought out on Mr. Greatorex's yacht, which is now
waiting for us at the shore."
"That is good news, for in truth, seeing the limited carrying capacity
of your airship, I had wondered how we were all to get away."
"That's our difficulty, sir. Our fuel is almost gone, and I'm very much
afraid there isn't enough left to make even one journey back to the
yacht. There's plenty on board, if we _can_ manage to reach it."
"In that case perhaps you and Mr. Oliphant had better return without us.
If you reach the yacht safely, you can come back and fetch us; if you do
not--well, things will be no worse than they were."
"I don't care about doing that, sir. We came out to rescue you. I think
you had better come with us. Our fuel may last out; the sooner you are
safe aboard the yacht the better; and if we only get within sight of her
it will be all right, for Mr. Greatorex will certainly send a boat's
crew to fetch us off."
"Had you not better take Mr. Schwab first? He has been in captivity
longer than I."
"And I have vair important business," said Schwab eagerly.
"I think my arrangement is best, sir. You see, your position is a matter
of state importance--international importance, I might say; all Europe is
more or less interested in your fate, whereas----"
"Ach!" interrupted Schwab, "zey insult me, ze Mohrs; me, a Jarman
sobjeck; zerefore zey insult also our Kaiser, who is in Berlin. Zat is
important."
"With all respect to your Kaiser, Mr. Schwab," said Tom, "we are three
to one here, and I think the interests of the majority must prevail."
"But ze population of Jarmany is grosser zan ze population of Great
Britain. Ve grow vair fast."
"Therefore your Kaiser can spare one individual better than our King. We
must settle it so, Mr. Schwab. We'll take Sir Mark to the yacht and then
come back for you--as we have already done."
"But if you forget--vere am I zen? Mr. Greatorex is business man, perhaps
he vant to make haste for home. Besides, you try to keep ze secret of ze
Photographic Sensitizer Preparation Number Six. I discover ze secret.
You vant to keep me out, so zat I shall not take out patent for
Schlagintwert. Zat is business!"
"You may take my word for it that we'll come back for you," said Tom
patiently. Oliphant was fuming: Sir Mark Ingleton was quietly enjoying
the situation. "And here's Abdul." The young Moor at this moment came
over the brow of the hill. "Perhaps he will stay and keep you company."
"I have enough gombany of ze Mohrs," said Schwab dismally. "Give notice,
I shall have big claim for damage. Ze loss of business is colossal."
"You'll make it up when you put your Photographic Sensitizer Preparation
Number Six on the market under a new name. Abdul, you will stay with Mr.
Schwab until we get back?"
Abdul agreed at once. In the event of a party coming from Ain Afroo to
capture him he could retreat to the caves, which were so difficult of
access that he might hope to defy attack for a time, even if his
hiding-place were discovered. The chief difficulty would be food and
water; but he could slip down into the woods before daybreak and gather
a quantity of fruit; perhaps also snare one or two wild animals; and if
Tom would leave behind the now almost empty canister in which he kept
the fuel for the engines, he could fill that with water from the hill
springs.
Schwab's countenance, as he heard these arrangements discussed, was that
of a man very ill at ease. But he had apparently come to the conclusion
that further protest would be unavailing, and he held his peace, summing
up in his mind, possibly, the amount of his future claim for damages.
Tom handed Abdul his revolver, for use in the last resort; then followed
Oliphant and the envoy into the car.
"You keep your vord!" cried Schwab, as the airship rose into the now
overclouded sky.
Tom set the engines at half speed, partly to husband his fuel, partly
because, moon and stars being now obscured, he felt the same kind of
reluctance to go fast that a driver would feel in going through a dark
country lane. It was a little before three in the morning. He hoped to
reach the yacht about dawn, though, having in the darkness no means of
guiding his course, he foresaw the possibility of going out of the way.
But a strong wind had blown up from the east, and with this at his back
he knew that he must in due time reach the sea. Rain began to fall, at
first in large scattered drops, finally in a steady downpour, and when
the grey dawn at last broke through the sky, all three occupants of the
car were thoroughly drenched and miserable.
Tom had anxiously watched his fuel supply. When the rain ceased and the
sky became clearer, and he caught sight of the sea afar off, he saw that
there was not the smallest chance of reaching the shore.
"How far is it, do you think?" asked Oliphant.
"More than ten miles, I fancy. I've scraped up the last ounces of paste;
we shall be lucky if it carries us another five miles."
"And what then?"
"Goodness knows! I don't know what part of the shore we are heading for.
We may be miles north or south of the yacht for all I can tell."
"Will they see us on board?"
"Don't think so. You see, the yacht, when we left her, was moored pretty
close inshore, and, unless she runs out a good way, the cliffs will
intercept the view. By Jove! we haven't come far wrong, though. You see
those two islands? I noticed them from the deck. They're a few miles
south of where we lay to. Here goes the last of the fuel, Oliphant; we
can't keep up more than five minutes. The only thing to be done is to
let her down at a suitable spot, and then gain the shore on foot, and
attract the attention of some one on board. No doubt they're keeping a
pretty keen lookout."
They were now passing over a considerable stretch of wooded country. But
as Tom was looking about for a place convenient for landing, he saw to
his consternation that they were within sight of a village of some size.
The airship was no more than six hundred feet from the ground: Tom had
not dared to keep it at any greater altitude, and he could scarcely hope
that it had escaped observation. To descend at once was absolutely
imperative: yet a descent in full sight of the village would certainly
bring unwelcome and hostile visitors. In order to stave off, even for a
time, the inevitable, he selected a spot that seemed to be about a
couple of miles from the village--a large clearing in the midst of the
wood, about halfway up a gently rising hill. There he dropped gently to
earth.
The airship had scarcely come to rest before he saw, from the village
below, a party of horsemen issuing at full speed from the gate. Tom
counted more than a dozen men, and within a minute these were followed
by another dozen.
"We're in for it now," he said. "They'll be on us in a few minutes."
"We can't fight 'em with only one revolver and a carbine," said Oliphant
ruefully. "They'll collar us and hold us to ransom--perhaps we'll all
find ourselves before long in the kasbah of Ain Afroo."
"May I make a suggestion?" said Sir Mark Ingleton. "The airship has
failed us; we are, it appears, about to be surrounded by horsemen who
are doubtless well armed; flight is therefore impossible. It is equally
impossible, as Mr. Oliphant says, to fight. Before now, in similar
circumstances, diplomacy has been of some avail; and it is but right
that I, in whose behalf you gentlemen have been brought to your present
plight, should exercise my poor abilities in disentangling the knot."
"What do you propose, sir?" asked Tom, inwardly remarking that diplomacy
seemed to make a man tolerably long-winded.
"It is that Mr. Oliphant and myself should go forth to meet these
children of nature, waving a white handkerchief as if to welcome them. I
will explain to them, in terms they will comprehend, and with a
sufficient regard for the truth, what our situation is. They will
doubtless convey us to their village, whether they believe me or not. In
the meantime you, Mr. Dorrell, will have hidden yourself in a tree--no
difficult feat to a man of your years; and when you see a fitting
opportunity, you will steal your way to the shore, rejoin your friends
on the yacht, and take such steps as may suggest themselves in
consultation with them to effect our release."
"A capital idea!" said Tom.
"But can we do it? Can you speak to the Moors in their own tongue?"
asked Oliphant.
"My dear fellow, your father selected me for this mission precisely on
account of my knowledge of Arabic," said Sir Mark. "If these Riffians do
not understand me, it will be because my speech is so much purer than
theirs."
"Well, good luck to you!" cried Tom. "I'm off before they see me."
And donning his djellab, which he had spread on the ground to dry, he
disappeared among the trees.