CHAPTER XX --ARRIVAL OF THE TURBINE YACHT

BEFORE Jack could fire, as perhaps he had intended to do, Drummond

struck down his arm.

“None of that, Jack,” he said. “The Russian in you has evidently been

scratched, and the Tartar has come uppermost. The Governor gave a

signal, I suppose?”

“Yes, he did, and those two have got away while I stood babbling here,

feeling a sympathy for the old villain. That’s his return current, eh?”

“He’s not to blame,” said Drummond. “It’s our own fault entirely. The

first thing to have done was to secure that boat.”

“And everything worked so beautifully,” moaned Jack, “up to this point,

and one mistake ruins it. We are doomed, Alan.”

“It isn’t so bad as that, Jack,” said the Englishman calmly. “Should

those men reach the coast safely, as no doubt they will, it may cost

Russia a bit of trouble to dislodge us.”

“Why, hang it all,” cried Jack, “they don’t need to dislodge us. All

they’ve got to do is to stand off and starve us out. They are not

compelled to fire a gun or land a man.”

“They’ll have to starve their own men first. It’s not likely we’re going

to go hungry and feed our prisoners.”

“Oh, we don’t mind a little thing like that, we Russians. They may

send help, or they may not. Probably a cruiser will come within hailing

distance and try to find out what the trouble is. Then it will lie off

and wait till everybody’s dead, and after that put in a new Governor and

another garrison.”

“You take too pessimistic a view, Jack. This isn’t the season of the

year for a cruiser to lie off in the Baltic. Winter is coming on. Most

of the harbors in Finland will be ice-closed in a month, and there’s no

shelter hereabouts in a storm. They’ll attack; probably open shell fire

on us for a while, then attempt to land a storming party. That will be

fun for us if you’ve got good rifles and plenty of ammunition.”

Jack raised his head.

“Oh, we’re well-equipped,” he said, “if we only have enough to eat.”

Springing to his feet, all dejection gone, he said to the Governor:

“Now, my friend, we’re compelled to put you into a cell. I’m sorry to do

this, but there is no other course open. Where is your larder, and what

quantity of provisions have you in stock?”

A gloomy smile added to the dejection of the old man’s countenance.

“You must find that out for yourself,” he said.

“Are the soldiers upstairs well supplied with food?”

“I will not answer any of your questions.”

“Oh, very well. I see you are determined to go hungry yourself. Until I

am satisfied that there is more than sufficient for my friend and me, no

prisoner in my charge gets anything to eat. That’s the sort of gaoler I

am. The stubborn old beast!” he cried in English, turning to Drummond,

“won’t answer my questions.”

“What were you asking him?”

“I want to know about the stock of provisions.”

“It’s quite unnecessary to ask about the grub: there’s sure to be

ample.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because we have reached the beginning of winter, as I said before.

There must be months when no boat can land at this rock. It’s bound to

be provisioned for several months ahead at the very lowest calculation.

Now, the first thing to do is to put this ancient Johnny in his little

cell, then I’ll tell you where our chief danger lies.”

The Governor made neither protest nor complaint, but walked into Number

Nine, and was locked up.

“Now, Johnny, my boy,” said Drummond, “our anxiety is the soldiers. The

moment they find they are locked in they will blow those two doors open

in just about half a jiffy. We can, of course, by sitting in front of

the lower door night and day, pick off the first four or five who come

down, but if the rest make a rush we are bound to be overpowered. They

have, presumably, plenty of powder, probably some live shells, petards,

and what-not, that will make short work even of those oaken doors. What

do you propose to do?”

“I propose,” said Jack, “to fill their crooked stairway with cement.

There are bags and bags of it in the armory.”

The necessity for this was prevented by an odd circumstance. The two

young men were seated in the Governor’s room, when at his table a

telephone bell rang. Jack had not noticed this instrument, and now took

up the receiver.

“Hello, Governor,” said a voice, “your fool of a gaoler has bolted the

stairway door, and we can’t open it.”

“Oh, I beg pardon,” replied Jack, in whatever imitation of the

Governor’s voice he could assume. “I’ll see to it at once myself.”

He hung up the receiver and told his comrade what had happened.

“One or both of these officers are coming down. If we get the officers

safely into a cell, there will be nobody to command the men, and it is

more than likely that the officers carry the keys of the powder room.

I’ll turn out the electric lamps in the hall, and light the lantern. You

be ready at the foot of the stairway to fire if they make the slightest

resistance.”

The two officers came down the circular stairway, grumbling at the delay

to which they had been put. Lermontoff took advantage of the clamping

of their heavy boots in the echoing stairway to shove in the bolts once

more, and then followed them, himself followed by Drummond, into the

Governor’s room. Switching on the electric light, he said:

“Gentlemen, I am Prince Lermontoff, in temporary charge of this prison.

The Governor is under arrest, and I regret that I must demand your

swords, although I have every reason to believe that they will be

handed back to you within a very few days after I have completed my

investigations.”

The officers were too much accustomed to sudden changes in command to

see anything odd in this turn of affairs. Lermontoff spoke with a quiet

dignity that was very convincing, and the language he used was that of

the nobility. The two officers handed him their swords without a word of

protest.

“I must ask you whether you have yet received your winter supply of

food.”

“Oh, yes,” said the senior officer, “we had that nearly a month ago.”

“Is it stored in the military portion of the rock, or below here?”

“Our rations are packed away in a room upstairs.”

“I am sorry, gentlemen, that I must put you into cells until my mission

is accomplished. If you will write a requisition for such rations as you

are accustomed to receive, I shall see that you are supplied. Meanwhile,

write also an order to whomsoever you entrust in command of the men

during your absence, to grant no one leave to come downstairs, and ask

him to take care that each soldier is rigidly restricted to the minimum

quantity of vodka.”

The senior officer sat down at the table, and wrote the two orders.

The men were then placed in adjoining cells, without the thought of

resistance even occurring to them. They supposed there had been some

changes at headquarters, and were rather relieved to have the assurance

of the Prince that their arrest would prove temporary. Further

investigation showed that there would be no danger of starvation for six

months at least.

Next day Jack, at great risk of his neck, scaled to the apex of the

island, as he had thought of flying, if possible, a signal of distress

that might attract some passing vessel. But even though he reached the

sharp ridge, he saw at once that no pole could be erected there, not

even if he possessed one. The wind aloft was terrific, and he gazed

around him at an empty sea.

When four days had passed they began to look for the Russian relief

boat, which they knew would set out the moment the Governor’s telegram

reached St. Petersburg.

On the fifth day Jack shouted down to Drummond, who was standing by the

door.

“The Russian is coming: heading direct for us. She’s in a hurry, too,

crowding on all steam, and eating up the distance like a torpedo-boat

destroyer. I think it’s a cruiser. It’s not the old tub I came on,

anyway.”

“Come down, then,” answered Alan, “and we--”

A cry from above interrupted him. Jack, having at first glance spied the

vessel whose description he had shouted to Drummond, had now turned his

eyes eastward and stood staring aghast toward the sunrise.

“What’s the matter?” asked Alan.

“Matter?” echoed Jack. “They must be sending the whole Russian Navy here

in detachments to capture our unworthy selves. There’s a second boat

coming from the east--nearer by two miles than the yacht. If I hadn’t

been all taken up with the other from the moment I climbed here I’d have

seen her before.”

“Is she a yacht, too?”

“No. Looks like a passenger tramp. Dirty and--”

“Merchantman, maybe.”

“No. She’s got guns on her--”

“Merchantman fitted out for privateersman, probably. That’s the sort of

craft Russia would be likeliest to send to a secret prison like this.

What flag does--”

“No flag at all. Neither of them. They’re both making for the rock, full

steam, and from opposite sides. Neither can see the other, I suppose.

I--”

“From opposite sides? That doesn’t look like a joint expedition. One of

those ships isn’t Russian. But which?”

Jack had clambered down and stood by Alan’s side.

“We must make ready for defense in either case,” he said. “In a few

minutes we’ll be able to see them both from the platform below.”

“One of those boats means to blow us out of existence if it can,” mused

Jack. “The other cannot know of our existence. And yet, if she doesn’t,

what is she doing here, headed for the rock?”

With that Jack scrambled, slid and jumped down. Drummond was very quiet

and serious. Repeating rifles stood in a row on the opposite wall, easy

to get at, but as far off as might be from the effects of a possible

shell. The two young men now mounted the stone bench by the door, which

allowed them to look over the ledge at the eastern sea. Presently the

craft appeared round the end of the island, pure white, floating like a

swan on the water, and making great headway.

“By Jove!” said Jack, “she’s a fine one. Looks like the Czar’s yacht,

but no Russian vessel I know of can make that speed.”

“She’s got the ear-marks of Thornycroft build about her,” commented

Drummond. “By Jove, Jack, what luck if she should prove to be English.

No flag flying, though.”

“She’s heading for us,” said Jack, “and apparently she knows which side

the cannon is on. If she’s Russian, they’ve taken it for granted we’ve

captured the whole place, and are in command of the guns. There, she’s

turning.”

The steamer was abreast of the rock, and perhaps three miles distant.

Now she swept a long, graceful curve westward and drew up about half a

mile east of the rock.

“Jove, I wish I’d a pair of good glasses,” said Drummond. “They’re

lowering a boat.”

Jack showed more Highland excitement than Russian stolidity, as he

watched the oncoming of a small boat, beautifully riding the waves,

and masterfully rowed by sailors who understood the art. Drummond stood

imperturbable as a statue.

“The sweep of those oars is English, Jack, my boy.”

As the boat came nearer and nearer Jack became more and more agitated.

“I say, Alan, focus your eyes on that man at the rudder. I think my

sight’s failing me. Look closely. Did you ever see him before?”

“I think I have, but am not quite sure.”

“Why, he looks to me like my jovial and venerable father-in-law, Captain

Kempt, of Bar Harbor. Perfectly absurd, of course: it can’t be.”

“He does resemble the Captain, but I only saw him once or twice.”

“Hooray, Captain Kempt, how are you?” shouted Jack across the waters.

The Captain raised his right hand and waved it, but made no attempt to

cover the distance with his voice. Jack ran pell-mell down the steps,

and Drummond followed in more leisurely fashion. The boat swung round to

the landing, and Captain Kempt cried cordially:

“Hello, Prince, how are you? And that’s Lieutenant Drummond, isn’t it?

Last time I had the pleasure of seeing you, Drummond, was that night of

the ball.”

“Yes,” said Drummond. “I was very glad to see you then, but a hundred

times happier to see you to-day.”

“I was just cruising round these waters in my yacht, and I thought

I’d take a look at this rock you tried to obliterate. I don’t see

any perceptible damage done, but what can you expect from British

marksmanship?”

“I struck the rock on the other side, Captain. I think your remark is

unkind, especially as I’ve just been praising the watermanship of your

men.”

“Now, are you boys tired of this summer resort?” asked Captain Kempt.

“Is your baggage checked, and are you ready to go? Most seaside places

are deserted this time of year.”

“We’ll be ready in a moment, captain,” cried his future son-in-law. “I

must run up and get the Governor. We’ve put a number of men in prison

here, and they’ll starve if not released. The Governor’s a good old

chap, though he played it low down on me a few days ago,” and with that

Jack disappeared up the stairway once more.

“Had a gaol-delivery here?” asked the Captain.

“Well, something by way of that. The Prince drilled a hole in the rock,

and we got out. We’ve put the garrison in pawn, so to speak, but I’ve

been mighty anxious these last few days because the sail-boat they had

here, and two of the garrison, escaped to the mainland with the news. We

were anxiously watching your yacht, fearing it was Russian. Jack

thought it was the Czar’s yacht. How came you by such a craft, Captain?

Splendid-looking boat that.”

“Oh, yes, I bought her a few days before I left New York. One likes to

travel comfortably, you know. Very well fitted up she is.”

Jack shouted from the doorway:

“Drummond, come up here and fling overboard these loaded rifles. We

can’t take any more chances. I’m going to lock up the ammunition room

and take the key with me as a souvenir.”

“Excuse me, Captain,” said Drummond, who followed his friend, and

presently bundles of rifles came clattering down the side of the

precipice, plunging into the sea. The two then descended the steps, Jack

in front, Drummond following with the Governor between them.

“Now, Governor,” said Jack, “for the second time I am to bid you

farewell. Here are the keys. If you accept them you must give me your

word of honor that the boat will not be fired upon. If you do not

promise that, I’ll drop the bunch into the sea, and on your gray head be

the consequences.”

“I give you my word of honor that you shall not be fired upon.”

“Very well, Governor. Here are the keys, and good-by.”

In the flurry of excitement over the yacht’s appearance, both Jack and

Drummond had temporarily forgotten the existence of the tramp steamer

the former had seen beating toward the rock.

Now Lamont suddenly recalled it.

“By the way, Governor,” he said, “the relief boat you so thoughtfully

sent for is on her way here. She should reach the rock at almost any

minute now. In fact, I fancy we’ve little time to waste if we want to

avoid a brush. It would be a pity to be nabbed now at the eleventh hour.

Good-by, once more.”

But the Governor had stepped between him and the boat.

“I--I am an old man,” he said, speaking with manifest embarrassment.

“I was sent to take charge of this prison as punishment for refusing to

join a Jew massacre plot. Governorship here means no more nor less than

a life imprisonment. My wife and children are on a little estate of mine

in Sweden. It is twelve years since I have seen them. I--”

“If this story is a ruse to detain us--”

“No! No!” protested the Governor, and there was no mistaking his

pathetic, eager sincerity. “But--but I shall be shot--or locked in one

of the cells and the water turned on--for letting you escape. Won’t you

take me with you? I will work my passage. Take me as far as Stockholm.

I shall be free there--free to join my wife and to live forever out of

reach of the Grand Dukes. Take me--”

“Jump in!” ordered Jack, coming to a sudden resolution. “Heaven knows I

would not condemn my worst enemy to a perpetual life on this rock. And

you’ve been pretty decent to us, according to your lights. Jump aboard,

we’ve no time to waste.”

Nor did the Governor waste time in obeying. The others followed, and the

boat shoved off. But scarcely had the oars caught the water when around

the promontory came a large man-o’-war’s launch, a rapid-fire gun

mounted on her bows. She was manned by about twenty men in Russian

police uniform.

“From the ‘tramp,’” commented Alan excitedly. “And her gun is trained on

us.”

“Get down to work!” shouted Jack to the straining oarsmen.

“No use!” groaned Kempt. “She’ll cross within a hundred yards of us.

There’s no missing at such close range and on such a quiet sea. What a

fool I was to--”

The launch was, indeed, bearing down on them despite the rowers’ best

efforts, and must unquestionably cut them off before they could reach

the yacht.

Alan drew his revolver.

“We’ve no earthly show against her,” he remarked quietly, “and it seems

hard to ‘go down in sight of port.’ But let’s do what we can.”

“Put up that pop-gun,” ordered Kempt. “She will sink us long before

you’re in range for revolver work. I’ll run up my handkerchief for a

white flag.”

“To surrender?”

“What else can we do?”

“And he lugged back to the rock, all of us? Not I, for one!”

The launch was now within hailing distance, and every man aboard her was

glaring at the helpless little yacht-gig.

“Wait!”

It was the Governor who spoke. Rising from his seat in the stern, he

hailed the officer who was sighting the rapid-fire gun.

“Lieutenant Tschersky!” he called.

At sight of the old man’s lean, uniformed figure, rising from among the

rest, there was visible excitement and surprise aboard the launch. The

officer saluted and ordered the engine stopped that he might hear more

plainly.

“Lieutenant,” repeated the Governor, “I am summoned aboard His Highness

the Grand Duke Vladimir’s yacht. You will proceed to the harbor and

await my return to the rock. There has been a mutiny among the garrison,

but I have quelled it.”

The officer saluted again, gave an order, and the launch’s nose pointed

for the rock.

“Governor,” observed Lamont, as the old man sank again into his seat,

“you’ve earned your passage to Stockholm. You need not work for it.”

A Rock in the Baltic · 第 20 / 21 章