SUB-LIEUTENANT HYTHE DISCOVERS THE SUBMARINE.
"Pipe away the diving-party!"
H.M.S. "Ramillies," the flagship of the First Battle Squadron of the
Home Fleet, had just anchored in almost the identical position that she
had occupied barely a quarter of an hour previously. With mathematical
precision the other battleships of the squadron had also returned to
their late anchorage and were preparing to investigate the mysterious
occurrence in the shape of a complimentary message from the still more
mysterious Captain Restronguet.
Up from below tumbled the diving-party. Air-pipes, life-lines, pumps,
dresses, and helmets were produced from some remote yet properly
apportioned part of the ship and were thrown down in a seemingly chaotic
manner upon the steel deck. Actuated by electric power several sections
of the armoured shields between the upper deck and the eaves of the
V-shaped shell-proof roof were lowered till they lay flat upon the deck,
and steel ladders for the divers' use were rapidly placed in position.
"Do you wish me to go down, sir?" asked a sub-lieutenant of the Number
One.
"Certainly, Mr. Hythe," replied the first lieutenant. "Make a careful
examination for a radius of say fifty yards from the shot-rope. You will
doubtless be able to see the place where the flukes of our anchor held
before. Ascertain if there are any traces of independent work; such as
footprints in the ooze, tracks of the underbody of a submarine settling
on the bottom, for example."
"Very good, sir," replied the sub, who, saluting, went off to be
assisted into his diving-dress.
Sub-lieutenant Arnold Hythe was generally regarded as a smart and
promising young officer. These golden opinions were gained not by
self-advertisement, for the sub was unusually reticent concerning his
profession, but by sheer hard work and a consistent application to that
great deity that should always be before the eyes of all true subjects
of the King--Duty.
He held a First-class certificate in Seamanship, Gunnery, and
Engineering; a Second in Torpedo, and also in what the Navy List terms
"Voluntary Subjects"; he was a qualified interpreter in French and
German, and had more than a smattering of Spanish and Italian. In
addition to these intellectual qualifications he possessed a powerful
physique, and had a sound reputation as an all-round athlete whilst at
Dartmouth.
The latter portion of his time as midshipman and the first few months
after his promotion to sub-lieutenant were spent in duty with the Fifth
Submarine Flotilla, whose base was at Fort Blockhouse at the entrance of
Portsmouth Harbour. But through some cause, to him quite inexplicable,
he had been appointed to the "Ramillies." This was somewhat to the
sub's disgust, but realizing that it was of no use repining over such
matters, Arnold Hythe accepted the change with cheerful alacrity.
Banks and Moy, the two seamen divers who were also to descend, were
already dressed. All that remained was for their copper helmets to be
donned, the telephones and air-tubes adjusted, and the glass fronts
screwed on.
"I don't expect you will find any actual evidence, and it will be lucky
if you come across any circumstantial evidence," remarked Mr. Watterley,
the first lieutenant. "But in any case, should you see anything of a
suspicious nature, inform us before proceeding to investigate. I need
not remind you that the east-going tide is making, and that the current
will be running fairly strong in a few minutes."
"Very good, sir."
Sub-lieutenant Hythe was a diver of considerable experience. Ever since
his first descent in the training tank at Whale Island he took naturally
to the hazardous duty. Going under the sea had a peculiar fascination
for him, whether it was in the hull of a submarine or encased in the
cumbersome india-rubber suit and ponderous helmet of the diver.
The men at the air-pumps began slowly to turn the handles. The glass
front plates of the sub's helmet were secured, and assisted by a seaman
Hythe staggered awkwardly towards the head of the iron ladder.
Rung by rung he descended till the water rose to his shoulders.
"By Jove, the tide does run," he muttered. "If it's like this now, what
will it be in another ten minutes?"
Raising one arm he waved to those on deck, then releasing his hold he
allowed himself to drop into the deep. The "Ramillies" was anchored in
nine fathoms, but ere the sub reached bottom nearly a hundred and twenty
feet of life-line and air-tube were paid out. With an effort he gained
his footing and commenced to walk in the direction of the ship's anchor,
battling against the two-knot current that swirled past him.
Although the sun was shining brightly and the light at that depth ought
to be fairly strong, the sand and mud churned up by the tidal current
made it impossible to see beyond a few yards. With nothing to guide
him, for the life-line was quivering in the swirling water, Hythe
struggled stolidly in the supposed direction. He realized that he was
practically on a fool's errand. The mysterious person or agency who had
been responsible for attaching the message to the anchors of the
squadron was not likely to remain upon the scene of his exploit, while
already all the sought-for traces must have been obliterated by the
tide.
Presently two eerie-looking shapes ambled towards him. They were his
companions, Banks and Moy.
"Well, if I am going in the wrong direction, those fellows are making
the same mistake," thought the sub. "So here goes."
Another thirty yards were laboriously covered. Here and there the divers
had to make a detour to avoid the wavy trailing masses of seaweed, that,
if not actually dangerous, would seriously impede their progress, while
at every few steps numbers of flatfish, barely discernible from the sand
and mud in which they were partially buried, would dart off with the
utmost rapidity.
"Thank goodness, here's the shot-line," exclaimed the sub, as a thin
rope, magnified under water to the size of a man's wrist, became visible
in the semi-gloom. The shot-line, terminating in a heavy piece of lead,
had previously been lowered to serve as a guide for the divers to work
from.
Pointing in two opposite directions Hythe signed to the two men to begin
their investigations, while he, taking a route that lay at right angles
to the others' course, began once more to struggle against the current.
Ere he had traversed another ten yards his feet slipped into a slight
depression. It was the hole scooped out by the flukes of the
"Ramillies'" stockless anchor.
"Could do with a lamp," he remarked to himself, then stooping he began
to examine the bed of mud and sand in which he stood. Beyond the almost
filled-in cavity and the faint traces of the sweep of the battleship's
anchor-chain there was nothing to attract his attention. He turned to
look at his own footprints. They were already practically obliterated,
so it was hopeless to expect to find the footprints of the mysterious
diver or divers who had contrived to visit each of the anchors of the
battleships in turn.
"Anything to report?" asked a voice through the telephone.
"No, sir," replied the sub.
"Thought as much," said Watterley. "Merely a matter of form. You may
as well come up. I'll recall the two men."
Sub-Lieutenant Hythe was not sorry to hear the order to return. Had
there been any possibility of success he would have prosecuted his
investigations with alacrity, but Spithead with an east-going spring
tide running is no place to indulge in submarine excursions. The danger
of getting life-line and air-tube foul of some unseen obstruction was no
slight one.
[Illustration: "THE NEXT INSTANT HE FELT HIMSELF BEING HURLED VIOLENTLY
BACKWARDS."]
Hythe adjusted the valve of his helmet prior to giving the recognized
number of tugs on the life-line--the signal to be hauled up. The next
instant he felt himself being hurled violently backwards by a sudden and
irresistible swirl of water. Within ten feet of him a huge, ill-defined
mass of what appeared to be bright metal tore past. He was just
conscious of a vision of one of a pair of propellers thrashing the muddy
water and the object was lost to view.
"What a narrow squeak!" he growled angrily. "By Jove, I shouldn't be
surprised if Banks is done for. It's a submarine, that I'll swear, but
not one of ours. Ours are painted a dull grey and that seems to be a
huge moving mirror."
In spite of his strong nerves, a mild panic overtook the sub. He
signalled frantically to be drawn up, and to his relief he found himself
alongside the battleship.
Grasping a line that was thrown him, Hythe hauled himself along till he
reached the iron ladder. Here he clung, too excited to attempt to
climb, until a seaman descended and assisted him up the side.
"What's up, Mr. Hythe? You look as if you'd seen a ghost," exclaimed
the Number One, as the front plate of the sub-lieutenant's helmet was
removed.
"Are Banks and Moy safe?" gasped the young officer.
"Safe? Of course they are," replied Lieutenant Watterley, giving a
hasty glance over the side to where two distinct clusters of air-bubbles
marked the progress of the divers. "What have you seen? But no, say
nothing more at present. Wait till you're out of your dress, and you
can report to the captain."
Arnold Hythe sat down on a bollard and attempted to collect his
scattered thoughts, while his attendant proceeded to remove his helmet
and leaden weights. Ere his india-rubber dress was stripped off Banks
and Moy appeared over the side.
"Well?" demanded the first lieutenant laconically.
"Nothin' to report, sir," replied Banks, while his companion signified
corroboration by a nod of his head.
Mr. Watterley looked inquiringly at the sub. The flush upon his face had
vanished and his features were white with excitement. Several of the
officers had come up and were engaged in plying Hythe with questions, to
which the latter paid no attention. He was still in a kind of stupor,
the result of a sudden shock to his nerves.
"Now then, Mr. Hythe--why, what's the matter with you? Here, I must
send for the staff-surgeon; I must, by George!"
Assisted by two of his brother officers the sub was taken below, and in
a very short space of time Doctor Hamworthy succeeded in bringing him to
a more normal state.
Meanwhile Admiral Hobbes, hardly able to conceal his impatience beneath
a cloak of official reserve, was engaged in animated conversation with
Captain Warborough upon the eventful incidents that had necessitated the
return of the Fleet to Spithead.
"Commander-in-Chief coming off, sir!" reported the lieutenant of the
watch.
Tearing as hard as her sixty horse-power motors could drive her the
Admiral's pinnace containing the Commander-in-Chief, the
Admiral-Superintendent of the Dockyard, and the military Governor of the
Fortress headed towards the "Ramillies."
Received with due ceremony and formality the officials came over the
side, and on being welcomed by Vice-Admiral Hobbes were taken below to
the latter's cabin.
"Well, Hobbes, what do you make of this business, eh?" asked Sir Peter
Garboard. "Have you taken any steps to investigate?"
"Sent three divers down," replied the Vice-Admiral. "I am even now
awaiting their report."
"Then the sooner the better," rejoined the Commander-in-Chief.
Admiral Hobbes touched a bell and a marine orderly entered the cabin.
"Pass the word for Mr. Watterley."
The marine orderly saluted and doubled along the half-deck, nearly
bowling over the staff-surgeon and the first lieutenant who were already
on their way to make their report to the captain.
"What's this? Mr. Hythe frightened by something he saw beneath the
surface?" demanded Vice-Admiral Hobbes.
"No, sir," replied Doctor Hamworthy. "He is suffering from a shock to
the nervous system; the symptoms are almost identical with those
resulting from a severe electric shock."
"You don't mean to say that Mr. Hythe is the victim of a submarine
discharge?"
"I do not assert, sir; I merely stated my opinion based upon
observations."
"And how is he now?" asked the Vice-Admiral impatiently.
"Fairly fit; he could be judiciously cross-examined," replied the
staff-surgeon. "But, unless absolutely necessary----"
"It is absolutely necessary," interposed Admiral Hobbes; then turning to
the first lieutenant he continued:--
"And what were the other men doing? I understand that there were two
seamen sent down. Were they injured?"
"They saw nothing unusual, sir," replied Mr. Watterley. "I subjected
them to a strict examination. They walked in opposite directions from
the shot-rope, athwart the tide, while Mr. Hythe went dead against the
current. The water was very muddy. The men said they could see about
ten yards in front of them. Banks, after the question was repeated, said
he fancied he felt a cross-current that might have been the
following-wave of a submerged vessel moving at high speed----"
"By the by," interposed Sir Peter Garboard. "I suppose you ascertained
that none of our submarine flotilla were manoeuvring at Spithead?"
"Oh, no, sir; or rather, I mean yes, sir," replied the harassed
lieutenant. "We signalled to Fort Blockhouse and in reply were informed
that F 1, 3, 7, and 9 of the 2nd Flotilla went out at 7 this morning for
exercise off the Nab. Those were the only submarines under way from this
port. I also asked them to communicate with the Submarine Depots at
Devonport, Dover, Sheerness, Harwich----"
"I hope you didn't give the reason, by Jove!" exclaimed Sir Peter
vehemently. "If the papers get hold of the news there'll be a pretty
rumpus."
"I shouldn't be surprised if the Press hasn't received more information
than we have," remarked Rear-Admiral Maynebrace. "It passes my
comprehension how they manage it. One thing, it's no use trying to hush
the matter up. We cannot expect to muzzle nearly five thousand men."
"Wish to goodness I could!" snapped Sir Peter. Then addressing Mr.
Watterley, he added: "Oh, first lieutenant, will you please send for Mr.
Hythe, so that we can hear his version of the business."
Five minutes later Sub-Lieutenant Hythe was shown into the Admiral's
cabin. The young officer was still pale. His iron nerves had received
a severe shock, but thanks to Doctor Hamworthy's attentions he was able
to pull himself together sufficiently to give a fairly full account of
what had occurred.
"How would you describe the submarine that passed so close to you?"
asked Captain Warborough.
"She was quite unlike any of our types, sir. I noticed she was almost
wall-sided, with a very flat floor. Instead of tapering to a point fore
and aft she had a straight stem and, I believe, a rounded stern, cut
away so as to protect the propellers."
"How many propellers?"
"Two, I think, sir. I distinctly saw the starboard one revolving. The
eddy from it prevented my seeing anything more."
"H'm. By the by, had she a conning-tower?"
"I could not see, sir. Her upper deck must have been quite twelve feet
above my head."
"What colour was she painted?"
"That, sir, I can hardly describe. I can only liken the sides to a huge
mirror that reflected objects without reflecting the sunlight at the
same time. As it was I could only see that portion of her that passed
immediately in front of me. I could not even give an estimate as to her
length, or even the speed at which she was travelling."
"You were capsized, I believe. Did anything strike you?"
"An under-water wave, sir, hurled me backwards. Nothing actually struck
me, but I felt a strange paralysing sensation in my limbs, so that I
could not make my way back to the shot-rope. All I could do was to
signal to be hauled up."
"Then how do you account for the fact that this submarine craft passed
close to you, and yet was unseen by Banks who was farther from the ship
than you were?"
"I regret, sir, I cannot hazard an opinion," replied the sub.
"That will do, Mr. Hythe," said the Commander-in-Chief, indicating that
the interview was at an end.
"Oh, by the way, Doctor," he continued, after the sub had left the
cabin, "I suppose you have no doubt that this young officer actually
_did_ see this submarine? Is it possible that he was the victim of a
hallucination?"
"From Mr. Hythe's medical sheet, and from my personal knowledge of his
physical and mental condition, I have every reason to reply in the
negative to both your questions, sir."
"Well, well, gentlemen," exclaimed Sir Peter, "we have a great task in
front of us, with very little data to work upon. We have reason to
suppose that there is a mysterious submarine commanded by an equally
mysterious Captain Restronguet--a name that suggests that the fellow is
French. We have definite evidence that by some unknown means that
Captain Restronguet is able to execute extensive and fairly intricate
work, namely, fixing those painted boards to the fluke of the anchors of
the Fleet. How it was done has to be proved, and it must be proved up
to the hilt, for even though no hostile act has been committed it is
quite evident that the ships at Spithead were quite at the mercy of this
unknown submarine. As far as the safety of the Fleet at Spithead is
concerned, you, my dear Hobbes, are responsible. I, for my part, must
take due precautions to prevent this submarine from entering the
harbour, and I venture to assert, gentlemen, that when our preparations
are complete, this Captain Restronguet and his submarine will be neatly
trapped."