AN EXCELLENT NIGHT'S WORK
"THERE'S the cottage, sir," whispered one of the guides, pointing to
a dark object silhouetted against the starlit sky.
The sub. halted his party and called them to attention. Six of them
with the A.P., were to accompany him to the house; the others, under
the command of the midshipman, were to form a cordon round the
building and also to establish communication with the boats when the
crucial time arrived.
Stealthily Tressidar approached the window through which Mr.
Greenwood had effected his escape. The casement was ajar. He opened
it and drew the curtain aside the fraction of an inch. The room,
still lighted, was deserted. Signing to his men to remain, he stole
quietly through the window and approached the trap-door leading to
the tunnel. He could detect the fumes of petrol. With the burning
lamp the cottage was in momentary peril of being blown up by the
ignition of the air and volatile spirit with which it was so highly
charged. Either the occupier was a madman or a fool, he argued.
Unbarring and unlocking the door, Tressidar brought his men into the
room. Extinguishing the lamp, he switched on his electric torch and
led the way down the ladder to the tunnel.
Contrary to his expectations, the descent was effected without any of
the seamen stumbling, dropping their rifles, or making a noise that
would betray their presence. In silence the men awaited their
officer's next order, which was given by signs.
Tressidar weighed the matter over in his mind. To act quickly it was
necessary to have light, since the darkness gave the miscreants an
undoubted advantage. To attempt to stalk them in the pitch-black
darkness would be running a risk of premature discovery. As far as he
knew, there was about eighty yards of tunnel, including a fairly
sharp bend between him and the seaward end of the cave.
Still keeping the torch switched on, Tressidar advanced swiftly and
silently down the tunnel. He found not one but two turns in the
passage. Upon rounding the second, the rays of his torch fell upon
the two men of whom he was in search.
They were both lying across the sill of the natural opening
communicating with the outside ledge. Both had night-glasses glued to
their eyes, and so intent were they in keeping the expanse of dark
water under observation that they failed to notice the illumination
that flooded the cave.
There was no peremptory order of "Hands up!" No dramatic covering with
revolvers. The British seamen simply grasped the recumbent men and
dragged them back to the floor of the cave almost before they had
time to utter a sound.
"Take that fellow back to the cottage," ordered the sub., indicating
the man who had been addressed as Max. "Search him, question him,
then report to me."
The German was hurried off. He offered no resistance.
Tressidar waited until unmistakable sounds told him that Max and his
captors were ascending the ladder, then he turned to the second
prisoner.
"You are expecting to communicate with a German submarine?" he began.
"No, sir, no," expostulated the man, his face contorted with fear.
"I'll explain everything. I'll make a clean breast of it. That
man"--and he pointed with his thumb along the tunnel--"is an escaped
prisoner. He is a German officer. Some of my pals put him on to me,
and, like a fool, I said I would hide him until a fishing-boat could
take him across to Holland."
"You're a British subject," declared the sub. contemptuously.
"I am, sir. Never got into trouble before this. I've been led into
it, sir, honest, I have."
"Honest you haven't," corrected Tressidar sternly. "Now, listen, you
know the penalty--death.
"What, for harbouring a German prisoner, sir?" asked the man.
"No--for supplying hostile vessels with petrol. You have hundreds of
gallons stored here, and I'll swear you cannot satisfactorily account
for that quantity. Moreover, you were heard to say that a submarine
was expected about three or four in the morning. Now, look here, what
are the prearranged signals?"
"Curse you!--find out," muttered the man surlily.
"I mean to," rejoined the sub. suavely. "Let me put the facts before
you. You're caught red-handed. There are no extenuating
circumstances. You are deliberately betraying your country for the
sake of a few hundred pounds, I suppose. If you give us all the
assistance that lies in your power, that fact will be taken into
consideration at your trial. I'll vouch for that. Now, I'll give you
five minutes to think things over."
Leaving the prisoner in charge of a couple of seamen, the sub.
approached the seaward entrance. Drawing his binoculars from their
case, he focussed them on the water of the bay. The tide was now on
the first of the ebb, with perhaps six feet of water close to the
base of the cliffs.
By the aid of the powerful night-glasses he could just discern the
grey forms of the "Pompey's" two boats. The first lieutenant had lost
no time in proceeding to the spot, for his preparations were already
complete, and the boats were even now withdrawing to a discreet
distance to await developments.
With a grunt of satisfaction Tressidar replaced his binoculars and
again confronted his prisoner.
"Time's up!" he exclaimed laconically.
"I'll tell you everything----" began the man.
"And mind you speak the truth," warned the sub. "Now, fire away."
"A submarine is expected," declared the prisoner. "At what hour I
cannot say--it might be any hour between now and daybreak. She won't
show any lights. She'll anchor in Half Way Deep and send a boat
ashore. The men will imitate the curlew call three times, and I was
to reply with a cry like the hoot of an owl. Then I had to lower
petrol-cans as fast as I could."
"And your companion?" inquired Tressidar. "Who is he?"
"As I said before, sir, a German officer who broke out of one of the
prison camps."
"His name?"
"I don't know, sir, except that it's Max."
The prisoner, who gave his name as Thomas Telder and was a gamekeeper
in the employ of a large landowner in the vicinity, was removed under
escort to the cottage, while the midshipman, having questioned the
German, appeared to report to his superior officer.
"The fellow's a pretty cool customer," declared the midshipman. "Now
that the game's up he doesn't appear to mind in the least. He says
his name's Max Falkenheim, and that he's an unter-leutnant of the
cruiser 'Mainz.' He was one of those fellows who were reported to
have escaped from Donington Hall by digging a tunnel."
"Jolly rummy that he should fetch up here," commented the sub. "He's
a long way out of his reckoning."
"Unless the east coast of England is too closely guarded," added the
midshipman. "However, the fact remains that he was within an ace of
getting clear. He swears he knows nothing about the unterseeboot, but
that he had agreed with that skunk to put him on board a lugger."
"H'm; well, that's good enough for us. See anything, Parsons?" added
Tressidar, addressing one of the seamen who had been told to keep a
sharp look-out.
"No, sir; fancied I did, but it was a wash-out."
"Any of you men know how to hoot like an owl?" asked the sub.
"Yes, sir; I do," replied a tall able seaman, who in his youth had
been a farm hand in the North Riding of Yorkshire.
"Very good; stand by, and when Parsons reports the submarine's
signal--three cries of the curlew--do you hoot: once only, remember.
The rest of you stand easy. I say, Greenwood, you might rummage up
aloft and see if there's anything of an incriminating nature in the
cottage. Make sure that all the blinds are drawn. I'll give you the
word as soon as the strafed U-boat is sighted, if you don't finish
before."
As a matter of fact the A.P. carried out his orders long before the
submarine revealed her presence. It was within an hour and twenty
minutes of sunrise--the tide being well on the flood--that the
long-expected cry was faintly borne to the alert ears of the
watchers.
Promptly the able seaman replied, and barely had the weird echoes
died away when the sub. heard the muffled sound of oars being boated
and the crunch of heavy boots on the dry kelp.
"Right you vos," exclaimed a guttural voice. "Lower der cans as fast
as you vos like."
In reply Sub-lieutenant Tressidar whipped out his revolver and fired
three shots in quick succession into the darkness. Then, with nerves
a-tingle, he waited.
It will now be necessary to follow the movements of the two
pulling-boats under the orders of the first lieutenant. On putting
off from the cruiser, the boats made for the harbour's mouth. Outside
the sea was fairly smooth, with a long, oily swell, for during the
night the wind had backed to north-west and blew diagonally off
shore.
Owing to the proximity of several dangerous ledges that extended
seven or eight cables' length seaward the boats had to make a long
detour before they arrived at Sallach Dhu Bay.
"We can't be so very far off now," remarked the first lieutenant to
the midshipman in his boat. "It's that confoundedly black that
goodness only knows where we are."
"Allowing for the tide, sir, I should think we're almost over Half
Way Deep. Shall I have the lead heaved, sir?"
A cast gave the depth at two fathoms--certainly not enough to float a
submarine, still less to enable her to submerge. The leadsman could
feel the sinker trailing over the rocky bottom, as the boat drifted
with the tidal current.
Again and again the lead-line gave approximately the same soundings.
The first lieutenant began to have doubts as to whether he had
already overshot the looked-for spot.
Suddenly the water increased in depth to fourteen and a half fathoms.
That, allowing for the state of the tide, was the depth shown in the
chart for Half Way Deep--a bottle-shaped depression extending well
into the otherwise shallow waters of Sallach Dhu Bay.
The kedge was let go and, riding head to tide, the boat brought up,
to enable the first lieutenant to confer with the officer in the
second boat.
Carefully screening the light with a piece of painted canvas, the
"No. 1" consulted the boat-compass.
"North one hundred and ten east, is your course," he announced to the
officer in charge of his consort. "That'll be taking into
consideration the cross set of the tide. I'll pay you out a hundred
and twenty fathoms of grass warp, then you'll steer due north. When
you've let go all the charge, make for the shore. We'll be on the
look-out for you. Suppose you've tested circuits?"
"You bet," replied the other with a grin. "Between us there won't be
a fish left alive in Half Way Deep, or a strafed U-boat either, I
hope."
The second boat pushed off, her coxswain steering by means of a
luminous compass. As soon as the strain of the connecting line grew
taut, her kedge was dropped. Then both boats, approximately two
hundred yards apart, allowing for the sag of the grass-rope under the
influence of the tide, rowed on parallel courses, paying out lengths
of sinister-looking objects that resembled strings of exaggerated
sausages. This they continued to do until Half Way Deep was mined by
a double chain of explosives.
The first lieutenant's boat was the first to reach the shore.
Cautiously the crew scrambled out and drew her clear of the water, a
petty officer handing the battery and firing-key ashore as carefully
as if it were made of priceless metal.
Five minutes later the second boat loomed through the darkness.
"All correct, sir," reported her officer. "Suppose this is the bay?
Wish to goodness I could smoke."
"And so do all of us, old boy," replied No. 1. "But curb your
desires: you'll see plenty of smoke presently."
Huddled together under the lee side of the boats the two crews spent
a tedious time, while their officers, treading softly, walked up and
down the sands.
At intervals they exchanged curt sentences in whispers; otherwise the
strictest silence was maintained. As the night wore on, the first
lieutenant consulted the luminous dial of his watch with increasing
frequency, until he began to wonder if the A.P.'s parent had been
dreaming or was the victim of hallucinations. But throughout his
monotonous patrol No. 1 took good care to keep within twenty yards of
the firing-battery.
Presently he stopped dead and listened intently. Yes, he could just
detect the faint sounds of muffled oars. The noise came from a spot
considerably nearer than he anticipated: much too close to the
drawn-up boats. What if the new-comers spotted the grey shapes as
they lay on the sand?
The seamen heard the sounds, too, for several of them knelt up and
peered over the gunwales. There was a concerted movement of the now
alert men. The tedious vigil in the bitterly cold night was
forgotten.
Then through the darkness came the curlew cry of the submarine's men,
followed by the distant hoot of the British seaman who had been
deputed to assume the rôle of an owl. What these meant the first
lieutenant knew not. His pre-arranged signal had not yet been
received. Bang! bang!! bang!!!
Fifty feet in the air the blackness was pierced by three vivid
flashes, to the accompaniment of the sharp cracks of cordite-charged
cartridges.
"Now!" shouted the first lieutenant.
The men in charge of the firing-batteries depressed the keys that
completed the circuit.
Instantly the waters of Half Way Deep were lashed into two parallel
columns of foam as a double chain of cascades leapt a hundred feet or
so in the air. Then a terrific crash, mingled with the roar of the
falling water and the thud of fragments of flying metal coming in
contact with the granite cliff.
In the village of Auldhaig the concussion was severely felt.
Window-panes were shivered; solidly built houses literally rocked.
People, aroused from sleep, dashed blindly for the streets or to
their cellars, fully convinced that the Zeppelins had arrived. Only
one individual slept through it all; Mr. Greenwood, dreaming of
petrol-cans, floating mines, and his lost umbrella, and buried under
the bed-clothes, knew nothing of the concussion until next morning,
Barely had the echoes died away ere the first lieutenant and his
party were doubling along the beach towards the place where the
unterseeboot's dinghy had landed.
The canvas boat, with a long rent in her bilge, had been carried far
up the shore by the rush of water following the tremendous upheaval.
Her crew, consisting of a petty officer and two men, were too dazed
to offer resistance, for upon the approach of the bluejackets they
threw up their arms and yelled dismally for quarter. Almost at their
feet was a large fragment of metal--one of the propeller blades of
the shattered submarine.
"Are you all O.K., Mr. Tressidar?" sang out the first lieutenant.
"All correct, sir," replied Ronald. "We've nabbed the pair of them."
"Very good," rejoined No. 1. "Leave four men to guard the cottage and
return to the ship. By the bye, have you a cigarette to spare? I left
my case on board."
It did not occur to the speaker how he was to receive a cigarette
from the sub., who was fifty feet above him, until he became aware of
a dark object descending the cliffs by means of a rope.
Eric Greenwood, with a double purpose, had ordered two of the men to
lower him to the beach.
"Here's my case, No. 1," he announced, as he fumbled under his pile
of clothing. "Matches? You have? Would you mind giving me a passage
back in the boat? I have a little commission to undertake."
[Illustration: "THEY THREW UP THEIR ARMS AND YELLED FOR QUARTER"]
Receiving permission, the A.P. made his way along the beach, the
first lieutenant watching him curiously, for dawn was now breaking.
Presently Eric returned with his parent's umbrella.
An hour later both boats ran alongside the "Pompey." Tressidar had
already returned and had lost no time in making his report and
retiring to his cabin to make up for arrears of sleep.
In spite of the early hour Captain Raxworthy was on desk, and as the
first lieutenant came over the side he was waiting to congratulate
him.
"An excellent night's work, Mr. Garboard!" he exclaimed
delightedly--"a most excellent night's work!"