THE DESERTED HOUSE
FOR some moments Tressidar could do nothing but cling to the fence.
He was still under the influence of vertigo, caused by his flight
through space. Everything seemed to be revolving round and round. But
for the support he would have been unable to stand.
"I'm feeling beastly giddy," he gasped.
"Not unusual," replied Fuller briskly. "Sit down and clap your head
between your knees. You'll soon feel all right. You are not used to
this sort of work."
"And it strikes me I never will be," thought the sub. as he carried
out his companion's instructions.
"Better?" asked the flight sub. "Good! I knew you would be. Now,
what's the plan of action? I vote we go cautiously, to make sure that
we are in neutral territory. We'll have to get decent clothes before
daybreak. We're positively not respectable."
"Look here," said Tressidar. "What happens if we are on Danish soil?
Do you think we'll be interned if we are discovered? If so, I'm not
having any."
"Can't say," replied Fuller. "The Danes are jolly good fellows, but
they are sticklers for international propriety. You see, they are in
fear of the Huns. They haven't forgotten the loss of
Schleswig-Holstein. Is there a British vice-consul at Esbjerg, I
wonder?"
"I should imagine so," answered his chum. "But how on earth can we
get in touch with him while we are wearing these multicoloured
travesties of apparel? We would be run in on sight, and then there
would be the deuce of a bother. I don't like the idea of cooling our
heels in a Danish internment camp until the end of the war. No, the
only thing I can suggest is to turn burglars. In short, sneak some
clothes and food, and then make for Esbjerg. We're bound to find a
vessel bound for England. As for the stuff we sneak, we must make
reparation at the first convenient opportunity."
"I'm on," replied Fuller laconically.
"Then north-east is our course. We'll investigate at the first
cottage we come to that doesn't show a light. Suppose I'd better
stick to this?" And he held up the revolver in the starlight.
"Might be useful," agreed Fuller. "Especially in this 'dunno where 'e
are' district."
Keeping by the side of the fence, the two men stole cautiously along
for nearly two hundred yards, till they found their progress barred
by a wire railing supported by stout wooden uprights.
"'Ware barbed wire," whispered Fuller.
"It's not barbed," declared Tressidar, running his fingers along a
section of the wire. "That's another fairly sound proof that we are
somewhere in Denmark, as, I believe, the Danish Government forbids
the use of that beastly barbed stuff. I guess the fellow who invented
barbed wire has something on his conscience if he's still alive. It
must have cost thousands of lives in this war."
Several fields were traversed before the two officers came to an
abrupt halt. Not so very far away was a road. They could hear
footsteps and then the gradually increasing roar of a motor-cycle.
"A German by the beastly sound of the engine," declared Fuller. "It's
almost as guttural with its explosion as a Hun jabbering away in full
blast. Look here, this road won't do. Too many people about. Edge
away to the right and keep parallel to it."
Within the next hour the chums passed close to half a dozen houses.
Lights within showed that the occupants were still up. Caution urged
the fugitives to give these buildings a wide berth.
"I'm getting horribly peckish," announced Fuller. "I could swallow a
basin full of steerage cocoa without the faintest qualms, and I don't
think I would jib at a weevily biscuit. What's that over there?"
He pointed to the faint outlines of a house which, unlike the others
they had passed, was unlighted, and also not surrounded by
outbuildings. On the side facing them was a row of tall poplars that
sighed mournfully in the breeze.
"That's the ticket," agreed Fuller. "Only remember: if you're nabbed
I give myself up. We sink or swim together on this trip."
Fortunately the ground was fairly soft, and the sub's wooden-soled
foot-gear made no sound. The canvas uppers, too, had no tendency to
squeak, but how the soles would behave if they came in contact with a
tiled or cobbled pavement was another matter.
On approaching closer to the house, Tressidar made the discovery that
it was surrounded by a stone wall of about seven feet in height. This
he skirted until he found that the front of the building abutted on a
narrow lane that evidently joined the highway at no little distance.
At first the sub. thought that the house was empty, until he noticed
drawn curtains over the windows. Possibly there were lights within,
for the fabric was heavy and impervious to illumination. There were
shutters also, but these had not been drawn-to.
Having completed the circuit of the building, Tressidar paused to
consider his next step. One thing he felt fairly certain of there
were no dogs on the premises, otherwise even his light footfalls
would have aroused them. A strange quietude brooded over the place.
Although furnished, it was temporarily without its occupiers.
Thrice he essayed to scale the wall, but owing to his exertions and
lack of food the task was beyond him.
"Say, old man," he whispered as he rejoined his chum, "come and give
me a leg up. There's a tough bit of wall to tackle. After that it
looks simple enough. No need to stop here. Keep close to the wall. If
the place is empty, as I think it is, I'll open the door for you."
With Fuller's assistance the sub., having thrown off his boots, found
himself astride the wall. On the other side was a rough lean-to shed,
which extended to the wall of the house. The roof creaked but held as
Tressidar made his way with great care and deliberation over the
tarred boards. He was now able to reach a small window without undue
exertion.
"Wish to goodness I had a diamond," he soliloquised as he pressed
gently and firmly upon the resisting glass. "Hulloa. There's a
stack-pipe. I wonder if the guttering will hold?"
Steadying himself by the stack-pipe, Tressidar hauled himself up
until he stood upon the window-sill. He was now able to reach the
eave of the roof. Testing the spouting with his weight he came to the
conclusion that it was fairly sound.
"Now or never," he muttered, and with an agile spring he drew himself
up sufficiently to enable him to clamber on the tiled roof. As he
expected, there was a dormer-window less than ten feet to his left.
The tiles creaked as he trod. A stork, nesting between one of the
chimneys and the roof, flew noisily away, the sudden apparition of
the large bird nearly causing the sub. to slide over the edge of the
tiles. For some moments he listened intently. No sound from the
immediate vicinity reached his ears. Evidently it was safe to
proceed.
The dormer-window was diamond-paned. The leads offered little
resistance as he pressed against the glass. In a very short space of
time he had removed a piece of glass nearest to the fastening; then,
inserting his hand, he threw open the casement and drew aside the
heavy curtain.
With his head and shoulders thrust into the room the sub. listened
again. The noisy ticking of a clock was the only sound that caught
his ear.
"Jolly queer sort of house," thought he; "one might imagine it was in
good old England. It's the only one that shades the inside lights,
and they are mighty particular about doing it. Even this attic window
was bunged up."
The open casement was just large enough to allow him to squeeze
through. The floor-boards creaked alarmingly as they took his weight.
Again he listened. The sound was enough to awaken the soundest
sleeper, unless he or she were stone deaf.
"By Jove! A burglar must be a pretty plucky sort of individual,"
mused Tressidar as he groped his way to the low doorway and commenced
to descend the steep, rickety stairs. "Feeling one's way about in a
strange house and in total darkness requires some doing, especially
with the risk of being bowled over with a poker thrown in."
Systematically the sub. proceeded with his investigations, examining
every room as he came to it, until he found himself on the ground
floor. Luck was in their favour, for the house was temporarily
without its lawful occupants.
The front door was locked. The key had been removed, so the sub.
directed his attention to the back entrance.
The massive bolts grated loudly as Tressidar opened the door. There
was no necessity to call to Fuller. The flight sub. had heard the
unbolting process and was waiting close at hand.
"Stand by," whispered Tressidar. "I'll hand you over a stool."
By the aid of this useful article Fuller had no difficulty in scaling
the wall. Together the chums entered the house, and rebolted the
door.
"Now we can get a light if we can find matches," said Tressidar.
"Every window is curtained. I took the precaution of leaving ajar the
window that I tackled first. If we have to beat a retreat, that's our
way out."
"I wonder why you rebolted the door."
"Because if we did clear out by that way we would have to scale the
wall," replied the sub. "By the window we land at once on the roof of
a shed which is almost level with the wall. That's a jolly sight
easier. Good! Here are some matches."
His hand had come in contact with a box on the mantelshelf. Close by
was a candlestick with a candle in the holder and a short piece in
the bowl. Arguing that one of the first things the returning
occupiers would look for would be the candlestick, Tressidar took the
spare piece of candle and left the other undisturbed.
"Looks like a second-hand-clothes dealer's," remarked Fuller as the
two officers entered the back bedroom on the first floor.
The room was long and narrow, extending from front to back. The
ceiling was low and heavily beamed. At one end of the room, its
canopy screen effectually blocking the window, was an old four-poster
bed. On it was laid a suit of clothes. More masculine garments were
thrown negligently over chairs and sofa. A medley of coats and
trousers hung from pegs in an open wardrobe. A fur-lined great-coat
had been thrown upon the floor.
"Take your choice, old man," said Fuller with a grin. "We'll stuff
our discarded emblems of servitude up the chimney. It doesn't look as
if they had a fire here very often. Wonder who the old josser is?"
Five minutes later the chums were rigged out in worn but serviceable
garb. They would easily pass for well-to-do Danish artisans.
"Now for grub," decided Tressidar. "Let's forage in our unknown
host's larder."
"Evidently no shortage of food in this establishment," said Fuller,
as the two officers ate with a voracity that would have raised a
storm of protest in the ward-room of one of H.M. ships. "Dash it all!
I feel another man already. Now, what's the plan?"
"Esbjerg, as soon as possible. We'll either have to stow ourselves on
board a tramp bound for a British port, or else throw ourselves upon
the generosity of her skipper. These Danes are downright good
fellows.... It's very quiet down here. I'm curious to know more about
the owner of this remarkable place."
"I think your wish will be gratified," rejoined Tressidar grimly, as
a motor-car that had driven up at high speed stopped outside the
house. "Lights out! Up aloft as sharp as we can."
The two amateur cracksmen had barely gained the bedroom when they
heard the key grate in the lock. Then a voice exclaimed in German:
"That will do, Karl. Take this car as far as Rodgrund's farm and
await us there. It will not arouse suspicion. Now, Herr Oberfurst, at
your service."