FACE TO FACE.
The hissing sound stopped. Instead, under a pressure of nearly two and
a half atmospheres, the water rushed into the disconnected valve. In
five seconds it had risen to the sub's knees. Then the inrush was
checked.
It was useless to struggle, but with an uncontrollable longing to wrench
himself away from his captors, rather than be drowned like a rat, Hythe
persisted in his efforts, till he realized that he was in no immediate
danger of being suffocated. In the place of the air pumped in from
above--air that was anything but fresh--came a cool, invigorating vapour
strongly charged with oxygen.
He no longer appealed for aid. He knew that with the air-tube and
life-line the telephone wire had been severed. He was cut off from all
intercourse from above. Even his air supply was self-contained.
Instinctively he felt certain that he would be carried off to the
mysterious submarine. Curiosity prompted him to accept the situation
with equanimity, his inborn fighting disposition urged him to resist.
If he were to be made a prisoner he would let his captors know that the
liberty of a British officer is not lightly lost.
It was a strange procession on the sandy floor of Cawsand Bay, for
others of the submarine's crew had come upon the scene, and surrounded
and held by five weirdly-garbed and helmeted men Hythe was frog-marched
towards the huge submerged vessel.
A dull patch in the side of the craft indicated that a portion of her
plating had been swung back, revealing on closer inspection a door about
five feet in height and thirty inches wide.
Here the sub saw his chance. With outstretched arms and legs he defied
the crowd of captors to pass his resisting body through the narrow
aperture. Twice he almost freed himself from their clutches. The
oxygen-charged vapour he was breathing accentuated his fighting
instincts, and mainly through sheer delight at being able to thwart his
antagonists he lashed out right and left.
Still retaining their hold the men began to lose patience. One of them
turned and looked at another who was standing by. The look was
understood. Drawing a small instrument resembling a two-pronged fork,
from a sheath attached to his belt, the fellow advanced towards the
young officer.
Hythe, still resisting, saw the action.
"I wonder what he's up to?" he muttered. "Going to puncture my suit, I
suppose, and half-drown me. Take that, you under-handed rascal."
With a sudden wrench he freed his right hand, and clenching his fist hit
madly at the diver's front plate. Had the blow struck home the glass
would in all probability have been broken, but the man stepped backwards
and the sub's fist encountered water only. That attempt led to Hythe's
undoing, for two stalwart fellows seized him by the arm of his
india-rubber suit between wrist and elbow. Held as in a vice he was
unable to draw back his hand, the diver with the fork-like instrument
immediately applied the points to the officer's bare knuckles.
A powerful electric current passed through him. He writhed; his limbs
jerked with uncontrollable spasmodic movements, till, his spirit
literally cowed, he was unresistingly carried through the aperture in
the side of the submarine.
The panel glided to, smoothly and easily, leaving the compartment in
utter darkness. Then came the sound of powerful pumps at work, and soon,
by the weight of his helmet, Hythe realized that the water was being
expelled. Within a minute and a half of the time of entering the place
the sub was no longer in the sea, although he was under it.
A bell rang and another door opened, revealing a fairly spacious
compartment well lighted by electricity. The floors, walls, and ceiling
were of metal coated with a substance resembling coarse cement. Along
one side were racks and pegs to take the diving equipment, several
complete suits being not then in use. On the other side were coils of
rope, lengths of chain, oars, grapnels, boathooks, and other gear used
on board ship, while a folding canvas boat in three detached sections
occupied a considerable part of the available space. On the bulkhead in
which was the sliding-door by which Hythe and his captors had entered
the compartment were various switches for controlling the ejecting
pumps, the intake valves, and the lighting of that section of the
vessel. In the other transverse bulkhead was also a door, fitted with a
watertight sliding hatch. On either side of this doorway were
complicated machines of which Hythe could neither make head nor tail.
Feeling more like a thoroughly cowed puppy than anything else he could
liken himself to, the sub was divested of his diving-helmet and suit.
The former was placed on the rack beside the others, the suit, not being
of the same pattern as that of his captors, was hung up apart from all
the rest. All this while the divers retained their head-dresses. They
did not even remove the glass plates. As soon as the sub was free from
the encumbrance of his diving-dress three men entered from another
compartment.
They were tall, broad-shouldered fellows, clean-shaven, and with dark
crisp hair. From their appearance they might be near relations,
possibly brothers. They were clad in dark-blue jerseys and trousers,
and dark canvas shoes, and looked more like yacht hands than the crew of
a submarine.
"The captain will be pleased to receive you, sir," announced one in good
English, with a west-country accent that a foreigner could not possibly
acquire, saluting as he spoke. "What name shall I give, sir?"
The young officer hesitated a moment, then, reflecting that it was of no
use beating about the bush, replied, "Arnold Hythe, Sub-Lieutenant of
H.M.S. 'Investigator.'"
"Very good, sir; will you please step this way?"
The effect of the electric shock was beginning to wear off, nevertheless
the sub felt in a very chastened spirit as he followed his guide, the
other two men keeping in the rear. Hythe methodically took count of the
number of paces he made as he walked along a narrow alley-way on either
side of which were doors in the longitudinal bulkheads. Fifteen steps
brought him to a stout transverse bulkhead, in which he noticed were two
sliding-doors face to face with a space of about six inches between.
Beyond, the corridor continued for another twenty paces, terminating at
a door that was partially concealed by a heavy curtain.
"Sub-Lieutenant Arnold Hythe, of H.M.S. 'Investigator,' sir!" announced
the man.
"Come in, Mr. Hythe!" exclaimed a deep, sonorous voice.
The guide stood aside, and allowed the sub to pass.
Standing in front of two electric lamps so that his face was in deep
shadow was the modern submarine magician, Captain Restronguet. He had
evidently taken up that position with deliberation, for he had the
advantage of being able to scrutinize closely his visitor and at the
same time partially concealing his own features; but the sub could see
that the captain was a well-made man of about six feet two inches in
height, with broad, square shoulders and massive limbs.
He was dressed almost as quietly as the three men who had accompanied
Hythe from the divers' dressing-room and who were now standing at
attention just inside the doorway. He wore a white sweater, dark-blue
trousers, a double-breasted serge coat and white doeskin shoes, while on
a writing desk by his side lay a canvas-covered cap of the style in
vogue at Cowes during the yachting season.
"I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," continued Captain
Restronguet, holding out his hand.
Hythe hardly knew what to say. Had he been told that a quarter of an
hour previously he would probably have told the captain to go to
Jericho, but the antagonistic spirit had left him.
"And so am I, sir," he replied simply.
"Thank you," replied Captain Restronguet, then addressing his men he
ordered them to leave his cabin.
"We can talk more freely now," he continued affably. "Pray take a seat.
The accommodation in this small cabin of mine does not compare with a
ward-room or the gun-room of one of His Majesty's battleships, but still
I think you will find that chair comfortable."
Hythe sat down. The chair was comfortable enough, but he felt
remarkably uncomfortable in spite of the fact that the captain's
affability sounded perfectly sincere.
"Do you smoke? Yes? Well, try one of these cigars. I can guarantee
them as pure Sumatran."
The sub controlled his amazement with an effort. He had never before
heard of smoking in a submarine.
Mechanically he took the proffered cigar, lit it, and waited for the
captain to resume the conversation. For his part he was anxious to know
what the latter's intentions were regarding his unexpected guest, but
something compelled him to await a favourable opportunity.
Captain Restronguet eyed his captive for some moments in silence,
then:--
"I am sorry to have to refer to your regrettable failure to take
possession of the 'Aphrodite'--that being the name of this craft--but at
present the opportunity has not arrived for me to relinquish my command.
Perhaps some day----"
The captain paused meditatively. Hythe could see his thick bushy
eyebrows narrow till they formed one continuous line.
"Under the circumstances I am compelled to retain you on board for an
indefinite time. I trust that you will make yourself as comfortable as
you can, and that the wonders of this craft--for wonders they are,
although I myself say it--will be sufficiently interesting to prevent
ennui."
"But why was I seized by your men, might I ask?"
"You were seized because there was no desirable option. You--I think I
am right--you took the initiative by tackling one of my men. They knew
perfectly well that three divers were sent down from one of the
Government vessels; they had their work to do, and were, of course, loth
to be hindered by anyone. Since I gave them particular orders not to do
anyone personal injuries, and to maintain a strict neutrality unless
molested, they could do nothing else but make you a prisoner. I might
also mention that I particularly wished to have a British naval officer
with me, for reasons which I hope to explain at some future date.
Chance has thrown you across my path, and here you must for the present
remain. Your treatment rests with yourself, but please do not regard
this as a menace; it is merely a plain statement of facts."
"But you are fairly trapped. You cannot get away!" exclaimed Hythe.
"I think not. At any rate, I will soon find out."
Crossing the cabin Captain Restronguet took up the receiver and
mouthpiece of a portable telephone.
"How is the work progressing, Mr. Devoran?" he asked. "All clear? ...
Good.... What's that? .... Oh, very well... two hundred revolutions if
you wish .... Splendid! ... If you want me I'll be with you ... Thanks!"
The captain replaced the receiver and turned to his guest.
"Perhaps you would like to look through the observation scuttle?" he
asked, and touching a switch he extinguished lights and left the cabin
in total darkness. Almost immediately after a panel in the flat ceiling
of the cabin slid back, rapidly, smoothly, and noiselessly, revealing a
rectangular plate of thick glass through which the pale green light
streamed, flooding the apartment with subdued hues.
"No need to strain your neck, Mr. Hythe," he exclaimed, as the sub gazed
wonderingly at the semi-transparent patch above his head. "Look in front
of you; the result from an optical point of view will be just the same,
and far more comfortable from an anatomical standpoint."
The young officer did as his host requested. Simultaneously with the
sliding back of the panel a mirror hinged at one side had risen from the
floor till it attained the angle of forty-five degrees, while another
similarly inclined, but face downwards, stood on a table in front of
him, and slightly above the level of his head. Thus, by looking into
the mirror on the table, Hythe could without inconvenience see
everything that could be observed through the observation pane.
He sat there absolutely fascinated. The "Aphrodite" had escaped the
coils that had, at the cost of so much labour and time, been thrown
about her. She was moving, yet not the faintest vibration or sound came
from the propelling machinery. Above were numerous dark objects
seemingly in suspension in the pale green vault of water; they were the
keels of various vessels, large and small, that had foregathered in
Cawsand Bay to witness the capture of the mysterious submarine.