HOW JOHN CAREY FOUGHT WITH THE GERMAN GIANT IN THE SALOON, AND "MR.
JONES" MET UNEXPECTED THINGS IN THE NIGHT
It was five o'clock, low tide in the marsh creeks, and snow was falling
lightly.
At high tide, the Doctor's Hulk rose considerably _above_ the bank of
Thirty Main Creek. It was three yards from the solid mud of the
salting, and when the bridge was dropped one went up an incline to reach
the deck.
Now it was low tide. The deck of the hulk was a good five feet below the
margin where I stood with my brother. It was still only three yards
away--nine feet--nothing to a very moderate athlete.
By four o'clock the evening had come. By five it was dark as midnight.
Bernard turned behind us to where two people were waiting.
"You quite understand?" he said in a low voice.
I did not turn round; for certain reasons I could not.
"Ready?" Bernard asked.
"Yes, old cock," I answered, "and I hope you can jump it!"
I was on my own ground. I had won a lot of pots in the long jump at
Oxford. I thought I should rather snaffle Bernard on this job, which was
wicked enough. We went back ten yards for the run. The snow was still
falling softly and thickly. There was the deep ditch between the bank
and the deck of the dim, desolate old Hulk. It looked very ugly, and as
I held up my elbows and started the run off, I heard a stifled noise
behind me. I knew what it meant, but I would not listen. This was no
tune for sentiment.
I took off on the very edge of the yielding mud-bank, leapt downwards in
a great curve, lighted full over the bulwark of the Hulk with a thud,
slid forward on the ice-bound deck, and was brought up short against the
cabin. I wheeled round as a man does after a long slant at Murren. The
whole thing did not take more than a second or two.
Turning, I saw Bernard in the air. He lighted as I had done, but his
foot slipped before he got his balance and he fell heavily, striking his
head against the stump of the main-mast which, with a yard shipped, was
used as a derrick to raise the bridge to the marsh.
He fell with a noise like a sack of potatoes. I went up to him, tried to
raise him, and found that he was unconscious. Something like warm
varnish was oozing out of his head. My fingers dabbled in it. What I
thought does not matter. If he was dead, he was dead, though I was
pretty certain a tough old bird like Bernard was only stunned. But I had
my orders, and I left him where he lay.
I stood up upon that slippery deck and pulled out my magazine pistol. I
looked round. There was nothing whatever to be seen but the softly
falling snow. I tried a low whistle to the people on the bank, but there
was no answer.
It is a good thing to be under discipline. I had my orders, I waited,
listened, and heard nothing. Then I crept aft to where a big
glass-roofed cabin had been built out on the deck. There was no light
shining through the roof. The door was locked. I listened and there was
no sound save the soft, falling noise of the snowflakes.
It was forrard, then, that I must go; and, treading with the greatest
caution, I crept towards the bows of the old ship. The fo'c'sle hatchway
loomed up before me. With cold, tingling fingers I felt for the door. It
opened in the middle, in the usual way, and the hinges swung back as if
they had been well oiled. Before me was the companion ladder--a dark
well. With my pistol in my hand, I went down the stairs as noiselessly
as a cat. I had only got to the bottom when a warm, stuffy smell came to
my nostrils. I was in a triangular space roofed by heavy bulkheads. It
was not quite dark, for a long rod of yellow light came from behind the
stairs, where there was a door. I went up to it and listened. Everything
was perfectly silent.
Then I pushed open the door and entered. What I expected to see, I
cannot say, but I was prepared for almost anything. What I did see was
entirely unexpected.
I found myself in a long saloon lit by a swivel lamp hanging from the
roof. Dark crimson curtains were drawn over windows and possible
portholes. The floor was covered with a faded Turkey carpet. Here and
there a mirror was let into the wall. I saw a case of books and an
excellent photogravure of the King, over a little grate in which glowed
a fire of smouldering coke. There were two or three basket armchairs
padded in cretonne. There was a central table, two little
smoking-tables, and a sort of buffet at the side of a further door. Upon
the buffet were glasses, syphons, and various bottles. There was a box
of cigars upon the central table and a silver cigarette-box upon one of
the smaller ones. I had come into a little, luxuriously furnished
club-room, which struck upon the senses with an irresistibly homely and
pleasant note as I looked round in wild amazement. There was even a
brass kettle on a trivet by the fire, which was singing melodiously to
itself. I stared round the place like a child, and caught sight of my
face with open eyes and dropping jaws in one of the looking-glasses.
What was I doing here? What had I tumbled into? What?...
I came back to myself just in time. There was a loud and sudden creak,
the yawn of a partly open door. Then--Bang!
The gilt-framed mirror in which I had been gazing at myself smashed in
the centre and starred all round, as something whizzed past my head with
a ricochet.
Instinctively I crouched down upon the carpet, wheeling round as I did
so.
The door at the opposite end of the saloon had been slid back. In the
rather dim light from the hanging lamp, I saw a great, bearded,
whiskered face, red, and framed in a fury of lint-coloured hair. It
seemed just like a gorilla turned white and malevolent in a sudden ray
of sunshine.
There was another deafening explosion: One! Two! Three! and the furious
noise in the confined space of the cabin filled me with something of its
own rage. I saw red. The warm and evil silence of this comfortable place
had frightened me far more than this onslaught. Unharmed, I leapt to my
feet.
As I did so, I saw that the man in the dark oblong beyond was feverishly
pressing a clip into his magazine pistol. He would be at me again in a
second, but I caught up one of the smoking-tables, heavy as it was, and
charged him.
The table was iron, covered with beaten copper. I ran at the creature
like a bull, and as he advanced a yard into the room I was on him with a
frightful crash and down he went.
I fell also on to the tripod of the table and bruised myself badly, but
I was too angry to think of that. I tore my shoulder from it and flung
it to the other side of the saloon. The man growled like a mastiff, half
rose from the floor, and then I had him by the throat.
I am a strong man; I think I said that at the beginning of this
narrative. What I mean is that I could out almost any Sandow pup in no
time. But as I caught this hairy-faced creature by the throat and felt
his arms seeking for mine, then I knew that I was in for the time of my
life. My hands sank into the great, muscular system of his neck. My
thumbs were pressed on each side of the Adam's apple--Japanese
fashion--and my fingers were feeling upwards for the final pressure on
the jugular vein.
But, with all my weight upon him, he was so strong from the waist up,
there was such a resilience in the massive torso, that he rose slowly,
as if pressed by some hydraulic piston. As he rose, my legs slithered
backwards. I tried to get some purchase with my toes to force him back,
but it was useless. He came up almost to a sitting posture. Great hairy
hands felt for my ears, and for a moment I thought it was all U.P.
Then I got my right leg under his left and heaved over.
We were upon our sides, the German uppermost, my hands still choking his
life out of him. Naturally, in that position, my grip was bound to
loosen. I could put no weight into it. But his arms were all sprawling.
One was partly under himself and partly under me, the other beating me
like a flail upon the ribs. I felt the sweat pouring from his face on to
mine, and he smelt horribly of garlic. It was just touch and go.
Suddenly I whipped my numbed hands from the fellow's throat, slithered
my arms down the front of his body, and gripped him round the lower ribs
with a hug like a bear.
Of course, this was my long suit. There are not many people who can
stand my affectionate embrace, especially when I am fighting for my
life! I heard one rib crack, and I laughed aloud. I tightened the vice,
and as the second went I knew it was all over. The brute made a noise
exactly like the water running out of a bath, a sort of choked,
trumpeting noise. His body grew limp. I disengaged myself and rose
unsteadily to my feet.
Wow, but I had had it! The beastly smoking-room waltzed round me; I
staggered to the buffet like a drunken man. My hands were dark crimson.
Old Upjelly and his confederates were accustomed to do themselves well.
I realised it as my eye fell upon the row of bottles--therein was much
balm in Gilead. There was a long-necked one with "Boulestin" upon the
label. I pulled out the cork at a venture and drank deep. It was just
what I wanted. It was cognac, and my eyes cleared and my arms stopped
trembling.
I do not suppose the whole affair had lasted for more than three
minutes, and as I came to myself I realised the necessity for instant
action. My late adversary was lying at the other end of the saloon, his
head rocking in the open door which led to his own quarters. He was not
unconscious. He frothed at the mouth like I once saw an old pike I
caught with a spinner in the Broads. His eyes were red and glazed, and
he breathed like a suction pump gone wrong. I saw he was harmless as far
as further aggression went, but I thought it as well to make sure. I
took the bottle and poured as much as I thought right into the chap's
mouth. Then I snatched the cloth from the centre table, tore it into
strips, rolled it up, and tied Master Fritz Schweitzer round the ankles.
I pulled him to the wall and propped him up. I knew two of his ribs were
broken, and I felt for his collar-bone. That, as it happened, was not
broken. It did not matter much anyway if he died, though he was a long
way from that. Still, we wanted him; so I took the cork out of the
brandy bottle, wrapped it up in my handkerchief to make a sort of pad,
shoved it in his mouth, and tied the end of the handkerchief round the
back of his head. Then, when I had secured his hands, I felt we were
getting on very well and I took a long breath.
I hurried up the companion-way to the deck. The keen night air, the
still falling snow, made me sway for a moment like a drunken man. I
heard a distant shout from the bank beyond, and with the shout was
mingled a high, treble note. That pulled me together more than anything
else, and I remembered what a perfect beast I had been not to let them
know. Of course, they must have heard the shots and been in an agony of
fright.
"Cheery-O!" I shouted. "Everything is all right, and I'll let down the
bridge in a minute."
Then I stumbled aft to find my brother.
The fight in the cabin could not have been as long as I thought, for
Bernard was just sitting up and rubbing his head. Incidentally, he was
swearing sweet wardroom oaths to himself.
I forbear to reproduce them; they can only be indicated here.
"Help me up.... Have we made too much noise?... Have they heard us
below?"
"That's all right, old soul," I said. "Feeling better now?"
"Don't talk so loud, you fool!" he hissed. "You'll spoil everything!"
"It's all right, old soul. I've said a few words to the crew. Now help
me to lower this gangway."
Bernard never said a word of protest. He somehow felt it was all right,
and in a minute more we had knocked the catch out of the toothed wheel
which lowered the gangway and I let it gently down by the greased
halliards.
Dickson max. came over first. Somebody followed him, so like Dickson
max. as makes no matter. This someone, a slim boy in appearance, put its
arms round my neck and nearly sobbed.
"It's all right, dear," I answered; "we've won the first trick. Now you
and your knowledge of German come in. Remember you are on the King's
service."
I do not know whether it was that or her relief at seeing me safe
again--for both Doris and Dickson max. had heard the shots and the
dulled noise of the fight below--but my girl pulled herself together in
a moment.
Little sportswoman! she nipped down into the saloon quicker than Dickson
max., whose Sunday suit she was wearing. Bernard and I would not have
brought her into this business for anything had she not volunteered. But
she _would_ come when she knew the truth. Neither of us knew German. It
was essential that we should have someone with us who did. And in the
wild welter of those momentous three days, I am afraid our sense of
proportion was lost. We were all young. We were all out to save England
if we could. This is my apology for Doris being with us. I shall not
repeat it. The end justified the means so unforgettably, so gloriously.
The man, Fritz Schweitzer, was still unconscious. He lay like a log,
bound and gagged, and an unpleasant sight, too. I felt rather proud of
my work as I looked at him, but Doris ran forward.
"Poor fellow!" she said, "I must do what I can for him."
"Not now, please," Bernard answered quickly. "The first thing to do is
to search ship. Remember that you heard nothing of Kiderlen-Waechter,
who is waiting till midnight for Upjelly. The presumption is that he was
to stay on board, yet we have seen no sign of him. Up with the
drawbridge at once, John and Dickson, and then come back to me."
We tumbled up the companion and in a minute had raised the creaking
bridge. It was impossible for anyone lurking on the ship to have got off
in the short time we had been.
"Now then," Bernard said, when we got back to the cabin, "get out your
pistol, John, and you and Dickson search this Hulk thoroughly. Miss
Joyce will stay here with me. I wish to speak to her. Report to me at
once."
We went through the narrow door from which Schweitzer had fired at me,
and found ourselves in a small compartment in the bows of the boat.
There was a cooking-stove, some pots and pans, some shelves of groceries
and tinned goods, and a berth with tumbled, frowsy blankets, where the
German had obviously been sleeping. Nothing there; and again traversing
the cabin, we went up on deck.
The deck-house, as I have said before, was locked, but my weight soon
disposed of that obstacle and, flashing my electric torch, with my
pistol ready, I entered.
The place was simply a storeroom. There were eel spears, some leather
cartridge magazines, a couple of old "cripple-stopper" guns, and so
forth. Only one thing I noticed, and that was a new, stout rope-ladder,
with bamboo rungs and zinc hooks at the top. Finally, we prised open an
old hatchway and peered down into the musty darkness of the bottom part
of the Hulk. Dickson ran and fetched the rope-ladder and I went down
first. There was nothing whatever to be seen but the bare timbers of the
ship. Everything had been gutted and there was a most horrible smell
from a foot or two of bilge-water. It was certain that no one lurked
unsuspected on board.
When we went down again to the cabin, I saw an extraordinary thing. My
brother had picked up what remained of the table-cloth, had twisted it
into bands, like what I had used on Schweitzer, and was tying up Doris!
Her hair was down, too, flowing in a great mass below the shooting-hat
she had worn.
"What on earth are you doing?" I asked.
"Shut up," he said, "you will see in a minute. Now, Miss Joyce!"
With her arms tied closely behind her, her feet free, Doris smiled and
went out of the cabin.
"Now for this swine," said my brother, and taking the soda-water syphon
from the table, he squirted it with great force and precision into the
wretched Schweitzer's face, till his beard looked like the fur of a
water-rat and his eyes opened slowly.
"Take off the gag," said my brother.
I did so.
"Now prop him up in a sitting position--yes, get one of those
cushions--that's it."
Then Bernard put some brandy into a tumbler and held it to the fellow's
lips. He sucked greedily and gave a great groan.
Suddenly, as we stood there, there was a slight thud and patter of feet
upon the deck above. We all heard it distinctly, and the German's eyes
gleamed. My brother turned and dashed out of the cabin, Dickson and I
following him. There was a loud shriek, a girl's shriek, and a scuffle,
and then my brother said in an angry voice:
"The Fräulein von Vedal--sent to warn these spies. Bring her down!"
Then I began to understand.
Doris fought like a cat. She was almost too realistic; but we hauled her
down into the cabin.
"Tie her up," said my brother in a hoarse voice of command.
We tied her up, sitting her in an arm-chair, and reefing our ropes so
that she could not stir.
Then Bernard took off his hat and made a low, ironic bow.
"Gute Nacht, gnädiges Fräulein!" he said--I believe it was all the
German the fellow knew--and then, with a wave of his hand, summoned us
to leave the cabin. We did so; he locked the door and ascended to the
deck.
"Now then," he whispered, "let down the drawbridge with as much noise as
possible and then go over it. Directly we are on the other side, we must
take off our boots and creep back down to the cabin door."
"What a ruse!" I heard Dickson max. say to himself in an ecstasy of
joy--he was given to using words from the more highly coloured adventure
books he read--"Oh, my aunt!"
We managed it beautifully, and got into the little space at the foot of
the companion, outside the cabin door, with hardly a sound.
Doris was sobbing bitterly and there was a low growl from the gigantic
German, which resolved itself into words at last. Then the sobs ceased
and Doris answered. We none of us could understand a word of the ensuing
conversation, but I reconstruct it here from what was told me
afterwards, and I am sure it is accurate enough.
"Who are you, Fräulein? What have they done to you?"
"Hush, they may hear!"
"Who are they?"
"They are the Police, the English Police. Everything is found out. I am
the Fräulein von Vedal. My father has been arrested, but I slipped off
in these clothes to try and warn you and Admiral Kiderlen-Waechter. He
must not be taken if it can be helped. If he escapes, my father says
there is yet a chance. He spoke to me in German until the police
silenced him. They do not understand our tongue, these dogs of English."
"His Excellency has gone with his gun upon the marsh. He wished to pass
the time until midnight, when the Graf von Vedal was to arrive with the
papers. He will be back at seven. I was about to prepare his coffee,
which takes a long time, for His Excellency is very particular. Now what
shall we do? Have they gone?"
"I think so. I heard them let down the bridge."
"And so did I. But they can't be far away. Do they know that the Admiral
is here?"
"I can't tell, but I don't think so. If only I could get free!"
"Oh yes, Fräulein, if only you could! As for me, it matters nothing, but
His Excellency must escape. Then he can meet Her to-night and warn
Her--even though the precious papers are all lost. He could go off in
Her and escape that way. You know all about Her, Fräulein?"
Doris shook her head. "No," she said. "Tell me."
"If they have not told you already, Fräulein, I must not do so. I am
sworn. I thought perhaps you knew everything."
"You won't tell me? If I can get away it would be of help for me to
know."
"No, Fräulein; I am sworn and I must obey orders...."
"And now I think," said my brother, unlocking the door and speaking in
his usual voice, "we've heard as much as we are likely to."
We all trooped into the cabin and, taking out his pocket-knife, Dickson
max. cut the cloth strands which held Doris in the chair.
The German's face grew dead white. His jaw dropped, his eyes blazed like
flames; he gave a roar of baffled fury and strained at his fastenings
with gigantic strength, the muscles at his temples standing out like
blue cords. I never before or since saw such hideous rage.
"Stop that!" my brother said, whipping out his revolver and pointing it
straight at the fellow.
It was of no use, however. Again that gigantic bellow swelled out into
the night. Dickson saved the situation. There must be something in these
boys' books after all, for I never saw a gag more quickly and deftly
inserted.
"And now, tell us exactly what you have learnt, Miss Joyce," Bernard
asked.
She did so in a very few sentences, putting up her hair at the same
time, standing before the mirror which Schweitzer's pot-shot at me had
cracked. Strange creatures girls are!
"Half-past six," said Bernard, looking at his watch. "Now for the
Admiral. Get that drawbridge up again."
We did so, and shortly after my brother joined us.
"There will be some signal," he said; "one of us must personate that
brute down below. You are the biggest, John, and the broadest."
"There's an oilskin and a sou'wester hanging in the man's bunk, sir,"
said Dickson.
"Just the thing. Cut along and fetch them."
I rigged myself up in these clothes as well as I could, and went down
again into the cabin, from where I was to emerge at the signal.
"We must manage it as best we can," said my brother. "Dickson and I will
go and hide behind the deck-house. When you hear the signal, whatever it
is, he will whistle or something, then come up heavily and let down the
bridge. He is sure not to speak loudly, so if he asks a question, just
growl out something so that he can't hear it till he gets on deck.
Remember he has got a gun, and grapple with him the moment you can. We
will be with you in a second."
I sat and waited, smoking one of the Doctor's cigars and with a
brandy-and-soda in front of me--I did not see why I shouldn't. My ears
were wide open, but everything had gone so well up to the present that I
did not remember any uneasiness or fear. I was just wondering whether I
should light another cigar when I heard something so silvery sweet and
unexpected that I jumped.
Somewhere out in the night, close by, came the silver pipe of a whistle.
I never heard anyone whistle so musically before or since. It was the
"Lorelei" that I heard, the sweet, plaintive music of the Rhine maiden.
I cannot explain it, but it gave me a lump in my throat.
At the sound, the bound giant struggled violently, but he made little or
no noise, and what he did was drowned by my heavy footsteps as I walked
through the cabin and stumbled up the companion.
On the shore, three yards away, was a figure in fowler's kit, which I
had no difficulty in recognising as that of my friend Mr. Jones. I heard
him say something, but there was a good deal of wind all round and I
ignored it, letting down the drawbridge slowly for him to come on board.
It had hardly bridged the chasm when he stepped briskly on to it and
came over like a flash. He had his gun on his left shoulder, and he
handed it to me, saying something in German. I took it with my left
hand, stepped aside for him to pass, and then kicked him smartly upon
the shin. It is an invaluable dodge; a West-end Bobby told me of it; and
down he went full length on his face with an oath.
Well, the rest was not difficult. My fourteen stone was on the small of
his back in a minute. My brother, who had employed the interval of
waiting in discovering a coil of wire, had his hands whipped round
behind his back in no time, and Dickson max. sat on the wretched
Admiral's head as if he had been a horse. We left his feet free, because
we wanted to get him down into the cabin. I held him by the shoulder
while my brother pressed the barrel of his Mauser pistol--one of the few
good things that ever came out of Germany, by the way--into the nape of
his neck. He came like a lamb and we sat him down in the same arm-chair
that Doris had just occupied. The wire came in very handy indeed. We
made a cocoon of it round him until he could not stir hand or foot.
"And now," my brother said, "our next guest will not be here for some
little time. Supper is, I think, clearly indicated. Doris, supposing you
and Dickson see what the galley has to offer--some tinned food, I think
you said, and coffee? Excellent. Meanwhile, I and John will talk to this
gentleman."
Von Waechter--I call him this for short; people should not have such
beastly long names--von Waechter glanced slowly round the cabin, taking
in everything. He saw Schweitzer lying gagged upon the floor, the
smashed mirror, the bottle of cognac, everything, and I will do him the
justice to say he never moved a muscle of his face.
"Well now, sir, you will understand that the game is up," said my
brother quietly.
The man nodded in a meditative sort of way, as if he was considering
whether that was true or not.
"Ah, my friend Mr. John Carey!" he said.
"Yes, Mr. Jones," I answered, "and this is my brother, Commander Carey,
of His Majesty's Navy."
Von Waechter bowed as well as he was able. "Ah," he said, "I am a
prisoner of war, I see."
My brother shook his head. "I'm afraid not, sir," he replied; "I'm
afraid you are a captured spy."