AFTER THE PEST OF THE SEAS
"Make a sound, and you feed the fishes, my fine young naval dandy!"
hissed Dalny.
"Pooh!" retorted Dave, contemptuously. "Order your steward to unlock
that door, or I shall be put to the trouble of smashing it down with
my shoulder."
"And be shot in the back while you are doing it," jeered Mender.
"I haven't had the honor of meeting you before, but I take it that you
are the bogus Russian Prince," laughed Dave. "Just now, though, you
look much more like an apprentice to the Black Hand."
"You should be saying your prayers, instead of talking impudence,"
sneered Dalny.
"As for this cardboard Prince, words fail me," mocked Dave, still
speaking in French, "but as for you, Dalny, I have already tested your
courage, and know it to be worthless. You are a coward, and would not
dare to use that revolver, knowing, as you must, that my men are
aboard and would tear you to pieces. Go ahead and shoot, if you dare.
I am going to break my way out of this cabin, and then I shall arrest
both of you."
"Is there no way of compromising?" begged Dalny, his evil face paling,
"In exchange for your life, Monsieur Darrin, can you not offer us a
chance for escape?"
"One brave man down!" laughed Ensign Dave. "That was spoken like the
coward that you are, Dalny."
Darrin turned to break down the door. He knew that he was taking
chances, for the sham Prince might be a man cast in a braver mould
than Dalny, and, in his desperation, might shoot at the back that Dave
so recklessly presented.
At the third lunge from Darrin's sturdy shoulder, the door snapped
open at the lock. The young naval officer stepped out into the social
hall. There was no sign of the steward.
"Seaman here!" Dave bawled lustily. He was obliged to repeat the
summons twice before a hearty "Aye, aye, sir!" was heard in the
distance.
Then Jack Runkle showed his jovial face at the top of the
companionway. Catching sight of his officer, Runkle bounded down the
steps and came up on a run, saluting.
"Runkle, go to the corporal of marines and ask him to send two men
here. Then stand by."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Runkle was off like a shot on his errand and soon returned with two
marines.
"Now, men," Dave directed, pointing to the doors, "batter them down.
That door, first."
As the men aligned themselves for the assault, Darrin, mindful that
the sham Prince was armed and might prove ugly, stood by with his
revolver drawn.
Bang! crash! The door was down.
"It will be wise to surrender to superior force," Darrin called
sternly. "We shall shoot to kill at any sign of resistance."
As the words were uttered in French the marines did not understand,
but they advanced unhesitatingly on Mender, disarmed him and led him
outside the room.
"Take care of him, Runkle," ordered Dave. "Now, marines, that other
door!"
Down came the barrier, and Dalny, shaking and white, was brought out
to keep Mender company.
"Break down every door that's locked," was Darrin's next order.
Within five minutes a little, quaking brown man was secured and led
out. All the locked cabins had now been entered.
"You're the Japanese marquis, are you?" Dave jeered. "Do you find,
Marquis, that it pays any better than being a Filipino mess
attendant?"
The Filipino hung his head without answering.
"Take these prisoners to the corporal of marines, and ask him to iron
them and watch them closely," Dave directed. "Runkle, do you know
where Lieutenant Whyte is?"
"In the hold, sir, or was."
"Follow me, then, and we'll see if we can find him."
Down in the main cargo hold forward, Dave and Runkle came upon Whyte
and a party of English and American sailormen.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. Darrin," called Whyte. "We've been making a
jolly big search through the hold, but, except for ship's supplies, it
appears to contain nothing very interesting. However, we shall have
time to examine it further later on. And you?"
"I have three prisoners," Dave explained, and told who and what they
were.
"Take them with you, Ensign, if you have room on your launch," Whyte
directed. "I will now take my men above and post a guard, so that you
may withdraw your own guard and get under way at once."
"We have done well so far," Dave answered, as he gripped the English
officer's hand. "I pray that we may be permitted to do as well all
through the night."
Runkle was sent through the craft to recall all of the American
sailors.
When Dave reached the deck he found that the entire crew of the yacht,
including the engine-room force and the stewards, had been rounded up
and driven to the deck.
"Over the side," directed Darrin, as his men, recalled, gathered near
him. He followed, but went over last of all. Orders for casting off
and shoving clear were instantly given.
"Keep the engines up to their best performance all the way," was
Dave's order. "Boatswain's mate, watch sharp for the courses, as I may
change frequently."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Heading out of North Channel, Dave drove back for Valetta, keeping
about a mile off the coast.
After making a few knots, he came abreast of another British launch
that lay further to seaward. With lantern signals the Englishman
asked:
"Is the submarine supposed to be loose?"
"Yes," Dave had his signalman reply.
"Where?"
"Don't know."
"I'm here to warn incoming ships against entering Grand Harbor
to-night," the Englishman wound up. "Are you seeking the submarine?"
"Yes," Dave had flashed back.
"Good luck to you!" came heartily from the English launch.
"Thank you," was Darrin's final response.
The searchlight of Dave's launch was swinging busily from side to
side, searching every bit of the water's surface that could be
reached.
"If the submarine comes up, Runkle, you may be the first to sight
her," Dave smiled to that seaman, who stood beside him.
"Aye, aye, sir; if I sight that craft I won't be mean enough to keep
my news to myself."
"I wonder where Dalzell is," thought Dave. "What is he doing in this
night's work?"
As for Ensign Dave, his every nerve was keyed to its highest pitch.
Outwardly he was wholly calm, but he felt all the responsibility that
rested upon him to-night, as did every other officer who commanded a
launch from either fleet.
Searchlight and naked vision were not enough. Almost constantly Darrin
had his night glass at his eyes.
Suddenly, as the light shifted over the water, Dave thought he caught
sight of something unusual.
"Steady with that light there, signalman," he commanded suddenly.
"Back slowly to port with the beam."
Darrin forced himself to be calm.
"Steady," he called, again. "Hold the light on anything you see,
signalman."
"Aye, aye, sir; I _do_ see something," replied the man who was
manipulating the searchlight.
That he did see the mysterious something was proved by the manner in
which he kept the light upon it.
That on which Darrin now trained his night glass was a marked rippling
on the water, half a mile away, and farther seaward. A landsman would
have missed it altogether. Yet that rippling on the sea's surface was
clearly different from the motion of the water near by.
"It might be a school of large fish," Dave mused aloud, in Runkle's
hearing, "though at night they are likely to rest. Runkle, and you,
men, keep your eyes peeled to see if you can make out fish leaping out
of the water."
The ripple continued, unbroken at any point. Moreover, it moved at
uniform speed, and in a line nearly parallel with the coast.
Gradually the launch gained on that ripple. Dave could not turn his
fascinated gaze away from the sight.
"I think I know what that is, sir," broke in Seaman Runkle, after
three minutes of watching.
"I am sure that I _do_, Runkle," Dave Darrin returned. "It's a
submarine, for some reason just barely submerged. That line of ripple
is the wake left by her periscope."
As if to confirm the young naval officer's words, the ripple parted.
As the line on the water broke, the periscope came fully into view,
and the turret showed above water, continuing to rise until the deck
was awash.
"There's the pest of the seas!" cried an excited voice.
Every man on the launch was now straining his eyes for a better look
at the submarine, barely a quarter of a mile away.