details. And, gathering the charts and the notes, he got into his
oilskins and hurried out of the cabin to hold a council of war with
several of his fellow admirals and captains on board the cruiser
_Klopstock_.
Max saw no more of him that night; but by the bustle and excitement and
incessant noise that kept him from sleeping, he knew that the ship was
being prepared for action.
Early in the morning he was awakened by the chunking of the engines and
the noisy working of the ammunition hoists. He got up and dressed in
his midshipman's uniform and went out to the upper deck. The rain had
ceased, but there was a thick mist over the sea, through which he could
only dimly make out the cliffs of Heligoland with their concrete
battlements and bristling guns.
As the cruiser drew nearer, he could see the forts more clearly, with
the naval harbour, from which a large flotilla of destroyers and
submarines had just come out. Here the _Schiller_ came to a stop beside
other cruisers--the _Klopstock_ with her four tall funnels, the
_Goethe_, the _Ariadne_, the _Coblentz_, and the great _Derfflinger_,
with her five pairs of 12-inch guns--while twenty destroyers,
accompanied by six submarines, disappeared in the mist on their way out
to sea.
On board the _Schiller_ all was cleared for action, everything
inflammable was left behind, and the decks were flooded in case of fire,
the guns were loaded and the men at their stations all ready for
fighting, waiting only for a wireless message to come back from the
advance scouts to say that the enemy had been found.
Instead of a Marconi message, there came the distant booming of British
4-inch guns, mingling with the sound of the drums as the bands on the
German cruisers played "Der Wacht am Rhein."
"Ha!" cried Admiral von Hilliger, rubbing his hands together as he paced
his quarter-deck. "Now we have them!"
A signal was sent out to two of the cruisers, the _Klopstock_ and the
_Coblentz_, which immediately steamed off, to be followed a little later
by the _Schiller_ herself and the _Ariadne_, which took a slightly
different direction, in order, as was intended, to take the enemy on the
opposite flank and so envelop them.
In the open sea, outside Heligoland, and beyond the area of the German
mines, British destroyers and submarines, supported by light cruisers
and battle cruisers had for a week past been busily reconnoitring,
showing themselves boldly, and inviting the Kaiser's ships to come out.
But until this morning the invitation had been ignored.
Now, however, as the flotilla of German torpedo boats sallied forth to
give chase to what they supposed was a mere patrol of light craft which
they might easily deal with, a strong, picked force of our destroyers,
headed by the new light cruiser _Athene_, dashed out from the mist to
cut off the German boats from home and engage them at leisure in the
open sea.
The action was begun by the _Levity_ and the _Lupin_ in a running fight,
and so well were their 4-inch guns served that one of the enemy
destroyers was crippled in trying to escape, and shortly afterwards a
second was seen to sink. The _Athene_ manoeuvred to get clear of
Hermann Koerner's submarine, which was within torpedo range.
Then the German destroyers scattered, drawing back to the mine-field,
and to the support of the _Klopstock_ and the _Coblentz_, which were now
coming out.
The _Athene_, leading the line of destroyers, met the heavy gunfire of
the _Klopstock_, and engaged her at a range of about three thousand
yards.
For half an hour the two cruisers fought, the _Athene_ holding her own
against a ship more than double her size. She sustained some damage and
a few casualties, and the situation was becoming critical when a second
British light cruiser, the _Sarpedon_, steamed up to her support. Three
destroyers joined in the attack with their torpedoes, whereupon the
German turned tail and disappeared in the mist.
The _Athene_ and the _Sarpedon_, followed by the destroyers _Levity_ and
_Lupin_, now gave chase to the German _Coblentz_, and drove her,
seriously injured, to the protection of the mine-field. Ten minutes
later the armoured cruiser _Schiller_ came out, with Admiral von
Hilliger in command, and his nephew, Max, on board.
She at once opened her guns on the _Athene_ and the _Sarpedon_. Salvo
after salvo was directed towards the two British cruisers, but every
shell fell short, while many of the _Athene's_ 6-inch shells battered
her sides. A division of our destroyers joined in the fray with their
deck-guns, and the _Levity_ in particular annoyed the Germans by the
accuracy of her aim.
Max Hilliger watched her through a pair of powerful binoculars, and
once, when the air was momentarily clear of smoke, he caught sight of
Rodney Redisham in a prominent position on her high bridge.
He went up to the admiral.
"Turn your guns on that destroyer, sir," he implored. "Sink her! Sink
her!"
*CHAPTER XIV.*
*BRAVE AS A BRITON.*
Whether it was that Admiral von Hilliger supposed that his nephew had
some vital reason for drawing his attention to the _Levity_, or that his
executive officers had resolved independently to punish this
particularly bold and annoying destroyer, it is certain that the
_Levity_ became for some minutes a special mark for the _Schiller's_ big
guns.
Shells fell around the little vessel like a storm of hail, and many must
have hit her but that she remained end on, thus making herself a smaller
target. At length one fell between her funnels, crashed through her
deck-plates, and exploded in her engine-room, leaving her helpless.
The _Athene_ and the _Sarpedon_ continued to send their 6-inch lyddite
shells into the German cruiser, their forward guns firing at the rate of
half a dozen rounds a minute.
These two British light cruisers were themselves receiving a large share
of the _Schiller's_ fire at long range, and were being constantly aimed
at by torpedoes from the enemy submarines and destroyers, while there
was always the danger of their running foul of floating mines. They
were being hard pressed. Already the _Athene_ had sent out wireless
messages to the British battle cruiser squadron in the rear, reporting
that she was in need of help.
The German cruiser _Klopstock_ had by this time reappeared from the
mist, and was steaming down to join battle. The situation was critical,
yet the British ships stood their ground, and a well-placed shell from
the _Sarpedon_ smashed the forward bridge of the _Schiller_ and injured
her foremost funnel, while another from the _Athene_ burst through her
port bulwarks amidships and so damaged her internally that her engines
stopped and she was seen to be on fire.
At this moment the four-funnelled _Stein_ loomed out of the fog. The
_Athene_ signalled to her consort and the destroyers to withdraw and
accompany her to cut off this new enemy cruiser.
All followed her excepting the disabled _Levity_, which remained rolling
helplessly within point blank range of the _Schiller's_ guns. The
explosion of the shell in her engine-room had burst one of her main
steam-pipes, crippling her for the time. Her own 4-inch guns were
served, but her shells fell short. Below decks the men kept grimly at
their work in their efforts to repair the damaged machinery, and all the
time shells fell fast and thick round the wounded vessel.
"It looks as if we were done for, this time," the commander admitted to
one of his lieutenants, as Rodney Redisham mounted to the bridge to give
a report from the chief engineer. "We can't live long through this."
"Unless one of the flotilla should return and take us in tow," suggested
the lieutenant. "They don't seem to realise that we are crippled, sir."
"I am not going to ask for help, however," the commander resolved. "It
would be too risky for one of them to come back now." He lighted a
cigarette. "We will just hold on with our flag flying until we sink.
Anyhow, we have done our duty."
"The chief engineer says he can't repair the steam-pipe without drawing
the fires, sir," Rodney reported.
"Thank you, Redisham," nodded the captain, "We will stick to the ship,
but see that every one wears a life collar."
He continued to pace the bridge. The officers stood each at his post
waiting for the end. No mercy could be expected from the Germans. The
_Schiller_ had now only one small target within range, and although her
gunners were aiming badly, yet here and there a sailor dropped wounded
by flying shrapnel, and more than one shell burst inboard, wrecking
cabins and killing two men.
Ah! Suddenly the _Lupin_, with magnificent British pluck, was seen
bearing down upon the _Levity_ at full speed, little heeding the fact
that she was charging into an inferno, and that at any moment a
well-placed shot might sink her. She was coming to the help of her
sorely-tried consort.
With splendid seamanship she was brought round. Not a shot touched her.
She came close alongside. A rope was thrown to the _Levity_; a hawser
was quickly passed and secured. In another minute both destroyers would
have been out of danger; but just as the _Levity_ was hauled round
broadside on to the German guns, the strained cable snapped.
All seemed over now. There could be no escape for either the stricken
_Levity_ or her daring rescuer. The gunlayers on board the _Schiller_,
fearing that they were being baulked of their prey, redoubled their
efforts to sink her.
"Every man for himself!" shouted the British commander.
From the _Lupin_, now standing off, there came a tremendous cheer.
Rodney Redisham, coming up on deck through the splintered companion,
heard the cheer repeated, and saw his commander and fellow officers
gravely raising their hands aloft in a last farewell salute. He turned
and glanced round to the westward, and to his amazement there came
plunging out of the mist the giant shape of a British Dreadnought
cruiser, flying a vice-admiral's pennant.
It was the _Saturn_, the first of the battle line.
The mighty 13-inch guns of the cruiser boomed out across the sea, and
with the first salvo the _Schiller_ was hit in a vital part. The hail
of shells round the two destroyers suddenly ceased. Another hawser was
shipped, and the _Levity_ was towed away.
With the battle cruiser squadron the light cruiser squadron also
appeared and joined in the confused fighting. The _Saturn_ and her
immediate consorts gave chase to the _Stein_, very quickly sank her, and
set the _Klopstock_ on fire. A second of the German destroyers was sent
to the bottom, whilst many others were badly damaged.
In the meantime, the _Athene_ and the _Sarpedon_ had driven one of the
enemy cruisers, the _Coblentz_, back towards the _Schiller_, where she
turned and engaged them hotly at long range. Both of the British ships
received a good deal of injury themselves before they succeeded in
sinking her.
The crippled _Schiller_ was still above water, trying to escape with all
the speed which her damaged engines would allow. The _Sarpedon_ gave
chase and opened fire upon her at a range of about ten thousand yards.
Admiral von Hilliger replied feebly with his after-turret guns and
attempted further to check his pursuer by dropping explosive mines in
his wake. But the British ship, with her greater speed, quickly
overhauled him and exchanged broadsides with him.
Flames and thick smoke were still rising from the _Schiller_, when a
shell, falling close beside her, sent up a great fountain of water which
deluged her decks and extinguished the fire.
Shortly afterwards, a beautifully-placed shot took away two of her
funnels, and again she was seen to be on fire. All amidships became a
raging furnace; her mainmast fell by the board. Then there was a sudden
silence on both sides. It was now only a question of saving lives.
The _Sarpedon_ bore down upon her stricken enemy, going close up to her
on the windward side and launching two of her boats.
At close quarters the devastating effect of the British 6-inch lyddite
shells was plainly apparent. The German flagship's thickly armoured hull
was like a sieve. Her fore-bridge was a tangled mass of ironwork; the
wire stays of her foremast were swinging in the air. Her guns were
smashed and bent, some looking round corners, some lying on their sides.
Her upper decks were in a state of chaos; her fallen funnels and
ventilators were red hot, and every boat was burnt. She was sinking in
a cloud of smoke and flame and hissing steam.
Unnoticed by any one near, the periscope of a submarine was moving in
the midst of the drowning Germans who had jumped into the sea from the
doomed cruiser. The submarine was the British H29.
Below, at his post in the conning-tower, Lieutenant Ingoldsby watched
all that was going on about him. He had been prepared to send his last
remaining torpedo into the _Schiller_, but this was now unnecessary. He
watched the _Sarpedon's_ boats coming to the rescue of the struggling
Germans, whom he could not himself attempt to save. He watched the
cruiser sinking.
There appeared to be only a very few living beings left on board of her.
A couple of officers stood under the wreckage of her fore-bridge. There
was a lonely figure on her quarter-deck, dimly visible amid the smoke
and flames. He, too, looked like an officer, though little could be
seen of his uniform, excepting a broad band of gold on his sleeve. His
head was bare. He held his hands pressed to his eyes, as if he were
blinded by the smoke, or as if he were unwilling to look upon what
little remained of the ship.
Suddenly, while Ingoldsby watched, he saw one of the officers under the
bridge climb up by a stanchion and leap over into the sea. The other
ran aft into the smoke, disappeared for a moment, and then again was
seen staggering along the red hot deck with his cap held over his mouth,
dodging in and out amongst the wreckage.
For an instant he stood in hesitation, and Ingoldsby saw that he was
only a youth, a midshipman. Then again he ran as with some madly
hopeless purpose aft towards the quarter-deck. He was lost in the smoke
for a while, but once more he appeared, crawling perilously along the
narrow strip of coaming at the edge of the flame-swept deck.
Had the boy wanted to save his own life he might have done so many times
by leaping down into the sea. But such most surely was not his design.
Lieutenant Ingoldsby understood his intention, and thrilled with
admiration as he saw it most bravely fulfilled. Dashing through the
smoke, the lad at last reached the officer who had stood alone on the
quarter-deck; caught him by the arm, spoke to him imploringly, and then
led him gently to the vessel's side. They stood together, an admiral
and a midshipman. Together they leapt into the waves.
"About the pluckiest act I've ever witnessed!" declared Lieutenant
Ingoldsby. "Desmond, you ought to have seen it."
"Seen what, sir?" Lieutenant Desmond inquired.
"I'll tell you about it afterwards," returned Ingoldsby, still gazing
intently into the periscope mirror. "Hullo! She's gone down!"
Just at this juncture, as the _Schiller_ sank, a large German armoured
cruiser, coming out of the mist, opened fire upon the _Sarpedon_, whose
two boats were busy picking up survivors. To save his ship, and in
obedience to orders he had received to retire, the British commanding
officer steamed off, abandoning his two boats with the officer in charge
of them, nine seamen, and the prisoners whom they had so far rescued.
Lieutenant Ingoldsby set his electric motor to work and started off to
attack the enemy cruiser, but the latter altered course to the northward
before the submarine could be brought within torpedo range. Ingoldsby
thereupon returned to the boats, emptying his ballast tanks and rising
awash close beside them, greatly to the astonishment of their occupants.
He stepped out on the deck of the conning-tower, followed by his
sub-lieutenant and quarter-master.
"I'm sorry I haven't got anything like room for the lot of you, sir," he
said to the officer in charge of the boats. "What had we better do?"
"We have twenty-five survivors," the other answered, "most of them badly
wounded. Three of them are officers. One, indeed, is an admiral. You'd
better make sure of him, in any case."
"I think I shall be justified in making sure of my own countrymen
first," returned Ingoldsby. "Yourself and your men. That's ten all
told. Well, perhaps I can make room for the admiral and his two
officers; but no more. You see, we may have to submerge. We can let
the rest of them have the boats. I can give them water, biscuits, and a
compass, and set them a course back to Heligoland. They're not all of
them wounded, are they? Some of them look as if they could work the
oars. Which is the admiral?"
He looked across at the farther boat and saw a red-bearded man at the
stern lying back with his head resting on the gunwale, while a youth in
midshipman's uniform, kneeling at his side, was bathing his eyes with a
bit of rag dipped in sea water. Like the rest of the rescued Germans,
they were woefully bedraggled and wet, their scorched clothes hanging in
tatters.
"Ah!" exclaimed Lieutenant Ingoldsby, recognising the man whom he had
seen on the quarterdeck. "It's the same. And that's the boy who saved
him. I'm glad you picked them up. Draw the boat alongside and let us
get them aboard."
The midshipman turned a wan face towards him, gazed at him with red and
swollen eyes, and shrank back.
"Queer!" murmured Lieutenant Ingoldsby in perplexity. "I'm almost
certain I've seen that boy before, somewhere!"
He went below to plan how the additions to his ship's company could be
accommodated and to send up provisions for the boats. The British
sailors were brought on board.
"The admiral will share my cabin," he said. "Bring him down, Desmond."
"He refuses to come, sir," declared Lieutenant Desmond, "or, rather, the
middy refuses for him. The middy speaks wonderfully good English."
Ingoldsby, still more puzzled, went back on deck. The admiral was now
sitting up in the stern sheets of the boat, blinking his inflamed eyes,
and looking exceedingly miserable.
"Won't you come on board, sir?" Ingoldsby invited, speaking in the best
German he could muster.
It was the midshipman who answered.
"No," he said. "We will not be indebted to our enemies. It would be
better for us to die here and now."
Lieutenant Ingoldsby gave a curious start of recognition and stood
staring into the youth's haggard face.
"Max Hilliger!" he cried. "You--here! Why, you were at home in
Haddisport only a couple of days ago! How did you come to be aboard a
German cruiser--and dressed as an officer, too? You used to be a
Scout--an English Sea Scout. You haven't the right to wear the uniform
of an officer, even an officer in the German navy."
"I have the right to fight for my own country," Max answered boldly.
"And if I wear an officer's uniform, that is my affair and the affair of
my uncle, Admiral von Hilliger."
"Ah!" rejoined Ingoldsby. "He is your uncle. is he? That explains. I
had forgotten you had an uncle in the Kaiser's service. But you did a
jolly plucky thing when you saved him just now, Max; as plucky a thing
as I've ever seen. While I watched you doing it I was wishing that you
were British. You were really as brave as a Briton. I hope you didn't
get badly burnt."
Max glanced downward to his left leg. The bare skin was scorched. His
left arm, too, was blistered from elbow to wrist.
"You had better come aboard here and I will give you some dressing,"
Lieutenant Ingoldsby advised. "Bring Admiral von Hilliger with you. We
haven't much accommodation. But we shall not be very long getting
across to England."
Max Hilliger frowned.
"I suppose you mean us to go aboard as your prisoners of war?" he said.
"Perhaps you could force us, since we are helpless. But you cannot take
us all. It would be better if you took some of our severely wounded.
My uncle and I very much prefer to stay where we are and to find our own
way back to Germany, or die on the way."
"Oh, I'm not going to force you!" returned Lieutenant Ingoldsby. "A
submarine is not supposed to carry passengers or to take prisoners.
Remain in the boat if you wish. But at least you will not object to our
attending to the wounded before we part."
So shockingly hurt were many of the Germans that it seemed almost a
hopeless task to give them even ordinary first-aid. But for half an
hour or so the British officers and men were occupied in doing the best
they could. They were short of bandages, but with true British sympathy
for their unfortunate enemies, they stripped themselves of everything
but their trousers, and tore up their clothes with which to bind the
wounds.
In the circumstances, Lieutenant Ingoldsby could not have been blamed
for giving Admiral von Hilliger and his nephew their liberty. But had
he foreseen what their freedom was to cost in innocent lives it is
probable that he would have acted differently.
*CHAPTER XV.*
*TREASURE TROVE.*
"In the very probable event of an invasion," asserted Mr. Croucher,
addressing a group of four Sea Scouts who had gathered at the lookout
station on the sea-front, "in the very probable event of an invasion, we
are totally unprepared and defenceless. As I was saying to Mrs.
Daplin-Gennery only the other day, we ought to have big guns stationed
at intervals all along the coast. A few newly-enlisted Territorials are
billeted in the town; but what good will they be when the Germans come
over here in force?"
"They could give the alarm, sir," suggested Ned Quester, whose brother
was a Territorial.
"Give the alarm?" repeated Mr. Croucher with contempt. "And what then?
No amount of alarm would repel an invading army. We want guns--guns,
and men who can handle them. Civilians are not allowed to take up arms.
Look at what has happened in Belgium! We ought to have realised long
ago that the Germans intended to make war on us. They've been planning
it for years. My argument is that we ought to have batteries posted all
along the coast."
"Aren't warships, that can move about, as good as fixed batteries, sir?"
questioned Darby Catchpole.
"Warships are no good against Zeppelins," declared Mr. Croucher. "Take
my word for it, the enemy have got many more airships than we've any
idea of; and every one of them capable of carrying a company of soldiers
with heavy artillery. Then they have their flat-bottomed barges;
hundreds of them, which they will use as transports."
"But we have our battleships and submarines, sir," interposed Mark
Redisham, "and it isn't at all likely that the enemy can get past them."
"Don't be too sure, Redisham," urged Mr. Croucher. "Don't be too sure.
They can slip past them in a sea mist and land troops here on Haddisport
beach. And when they do, we shall be annihilated. It's no good thinking
that our dwelling houses are any protection. One shell from a German
cruiser, one explosive bomb from a Zeppelin, would smash any of the
houses along this esplanade. I wonder people are so callous as to live
in houses that are little better than targets to be aimed at from both
sea and air!"
Darby Catchpole ran his eye along the exposed dwellings.
"Sunnydene is about the best target of the lot," he smiled. "It would
be funny if the enemy were to bombard the property of the brother of one
of their own admirals!"
Mr. Croucher shook his head wisely.
"They won't bombard Sunnydene," he affirmed. "Young Max Hilliger, who,
it seems, was rescued with his uncle from the _Schiller_, will see to it
that the house is not harmed."
"In that case, Sunnydene would be a safe refuge for us," Mark Redisham
declared. "At the first alarm we ought to round up all the women and
children and corral them in the grounds."
"The chances are that the Germans would batter Sunnydene to bits in
aiming at your own house, Mark," laughed Darby.
"For my own part," resumed Mr. Croucher, "I am getting a man to dig a
refuge trench in my back garden. He'd nearly finished it yesterday,
only unfortunately in the heavy rain last night the sides fell in for
want of supports. The corporation ought to have proper trenches dug on
the denes where the inhabitants could fly in case of danger."
"And get killed while they're flying," mischievously suggested Seth
Newruck.