--AND A NIGHT
TRESSIDAR extricated himself from his uncomfortable position.
Although considerably shaken, he was practically unhurt. His first
thoughts upon realising that there had been a smash was for the other
former occupants of the car. Some distance from and well above him
the dimmed light of one of the lamps still flickered. The other had
been extinguished, either by the sudden jolt or owing to the glass
being fractured. He could distinguish the voices of Doris and Norah
and the mild expostulation of Mr. Greenwood to the accompaniment of
the bark of the Irish terrier.
He started to ascend the incline. It was so steep that he wondered
why the car had not crashed to the bottom of the valley instead of
lodging a mere thirty or forty feet below the road.
Before he had taken half a dozen steps his foot came in contact with
a human body. It was Dr. Cardyke, still gripping the steering-wheel.
The impact had snapped the steering-column like a carrot, and the
doctor, describing a parabola over the shattered screen, had carried
the wheel with him.
"Hurt?" enquired the sub. anxiously.
"No, only meditating," replied the imperturbable doctor. "I'll be all
right in a few minutes. See to the others, please."
The two girls and the A.P. had already alighted, more or less
gracefully, while Greenwood senior was wedged in between the seat and
the sadly depleted hamper. All had come off lightly, but not so the
car.
Its downward career had been stopped by a large boulder. The force of
the impact had telescoped the fore part. The front wheels were
shattered, the chassis splintered. As a car its days were ended.
"Where's Cardyke?" enquired Mr. Greenwood as he was being extricated
from the wreckage.
"Nursing the steering-wheel," replied Tressidar. "He says he isn't
hurt."
"Neither am I," added the doctor, who, having regained his feet, was
toiling up the slope. "Sorry I landed you all in this pickle.
Greenwood, I'm afraid your Ferncoombe Reservoir business is off."
"Not if I know it," resolutely replied the member of the National
Guard. "I'll get there, even if I have to tramp it."
"What's the programme, sir?" enquired Tressidar, who, after having
found a derelict cushion for the girls, was surveying the wreckage in
the dim glimmer of the expiring lamp.
"We'll try to reach the nearest village and find a conveyance,"
replied the doctor. "It can't be very far. We must be almost on the
edge of the moors, although I find I was mistaken just now. I
certainly don't remember this place."
"May as well leave everything ship-shape as far as possible,"
suggested Eric. "My word, what an escape we've had!"
All hands set to work to retrieve the scattered articles. Cushions,
portions of the mechanism, fishing-rods, Mr. Greenwood's rifle, the
clock and speedometer and a number of other articles were picked up
at varying distances from the wrecked car, some having rolled far
down the valley. These were placed for safety in the car.
"By Jove, sir!" exclaimed Tressidar. "How many clocks do you carry?
I've already found three."
"Three?" echoed the doctor. "Never."
"I'll prove it," continued the sub., leaning over the side door and
groping for the floor of the car. This he failed to find, for the
simple reason that it no longer existed. Instead was a gaping cavity
through which the retrieved articles rolled out as fast as they were
stowed away.
Just then the terrier gave a bark.
"Quiet!" ordered Doris. "Quiet, Mike!"
"There's someone coming," declared Eric. "Sounds like a horse and
cart."
"Then, thank goodness, we'll be able to find out where we are," added
Mr. Greenwood, as the whole party scaled the bank and waited in the
road for the approaching vehicle.
It proved to be a pony-trap driven by a very stout farmer. The
latter, recovering from his astonishment at being hailed in this
out-of-the-way place, informed the doctor that they were four miles
from the nearest house, five from the nearest village, and twelve
from a railway-station.
"Any motor-cars to be had in the village?" asked Dr. Cardyke. "We've
had a bad smash."
"Yes, there be a car o' sorts, zurr," replied the man, laying stress
upon the "o' sorts." "Maybe you'll be wantin' oi' tu ax the moty tu
fetch you?"
"If you would," said the doctor, "we'll be most obliged. I suppose we
can rely upon it being sent?"
"You can rely on oi, zurr, tu giv' the message," was the countryman's
non-committal reply, and, overcoming his curiosity to alight and
examine the wrecked car, he touched the pony with his whip and drove
off.
"Five miles," commented the doctor. "It will take at least an hour
before the car arrives. Let's make ourselves as comfortable as
possible in the circumstances. Has anyone a match?"
After another twenty minutes the conversation flagged. Everyone was
more or less tired, after the day spent in the bracing air.
Presently Mike began to show signs of uneasiness, straining at his
collar, through which his mistress had slipped her fingers.
"He smells a rabbit, I think," suggested Tressidar.
"Yes, and if I let him go he may not return for hours. I know him
when rabbits are about," replied Doris. "Hold him, Ronald; he's
tugging awfully hard."
The sub. did so, at the same time encircling the terrier's muzzle
with his left hand. For the time being Mike was silent.
Stealthy footsteps could be heard on the stony road. These were the
sounds that had aroused the dog, who had detected them long before
the rest of the party.
With a sudden, furious twist Mike broke away from Tressidar's grasp
and darted off through the darkness, in spite of insistent calls for
him to come to heel.
"Dash it all, Doris!" exclaimed her father. "The brute will frighten
the man into fits. If I have to pay for any damage, I'll have the
animal dest----"
His threat regarding Mike's future was interrupted by a yell,
followed by an oath--and the oath was uttered in unmistakable
German.
"That's good enough for us, old man!" exclaimed Tressidar to the A.P.
"Come along. Let's see who the Hun is."
The two officers gained the road and made their way swiftly in the
direction of the indiscreet stranger, who was now having a battle
royal with the terrier. On hearing footsteps approaching, he bawled,
"Call off your dog, will you? If you don't I'll----"
The words trailed off into another yell, as Mike nipped a piece out
of the fellow's trousers, together with a square inch of adipose
tissue.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Tressidar. "It's Jorkler."
The A.P. knew the name perfectly well. He remembered that a Jorkler
was reported killed on the occasion of the loss of the "Pompey"; but
he was unaware that his real name was Oberfurst and that he was a
spy. Tressidar had kept his promise to the rear-admiral in that
respect, but now arose the necessity for explanation.
"He's a spy," he said hurriedly. "Take care, he may be armed."
"Not likely," replied the A.P. "If he were, he would have potted the
tyke by this time."
Almost before he was aware of it, Tressidar was upon the man.
Oberfurst, having ascended a slight bank on the opposite side of the
road, was kicking at the terrier, who with canine insistence was
striving to get an opening and remove another patch of the German's
clothes.
"We've got you, Oberfurst," exclaimed Tressidar. "There are four of
us."
The spy recognised the sub.'s voice. Sheer astonishment on being
confronted in that remote part of Dartmoor by a man whom he imagined
was still interned in Denmark "took the wind out of his sails." Mike,
seeing the advantage, leapt forward, only to be hurled backward by a
powerful kick of the German's boot.
Simultaneously Tressidar and the A.P. threw themselves upon the spy,
but they had not taken into account the slippery state of the ground
owing to the heavy mist. Eric, his feet sliding from under him, fell
on his face across the body of the still yelping Mike. The sub.,
adopting Rugby tactics, tackled his man low, but was unable to secure
a hold.
In a trice the spy broke away and ran swiftly along the stony road in
the direction of the doctor and the rest of the party.
Too late did Oberfurst make the discovery that there were more than
two adversaries, for Dr. Cardyke and Greenwood senior gamely sought
to bar the German's way.
At the first alarm Mr. Greenwood had seized his rifle. True, he had
no cartridges; perhaps for his son's and Tressidar's safety it was as
well that he had not.
The doctor, being slightly in advance of his friend, received the
brunt of the second phase of the night operations, for the spy, using
his feet in the approved Continental style, kicked Cardyke on his
left knee, at the same time gripping the doctor's arm.
Then it was that Oberfurst met his Waterloo, for his palm came in
contact with the formidable array of fish-hooks that the doctor still
kept in his coat-sleeve. Uttering a yell as the barbs lacerated his
flesh, the spy again attempted to break away. As he did so, Greenwood
senior prodded him in the ribs with the butt-end of his rifle and
stretched him out breathless on the road, just as Tressidar and the
A.P. again appeared upon the scene.
Otto Oberfurst had been far from inactive since the "Nordby"
incident. Having given the Danish skipper the slip, the spy made his
way to Aarhuus, whence, having obtained false papers, he posed as a
British mercantile seaman whose vessel had been mined in the North
Sea.
It was his intention to return to Great Britain with the least
possible delay and resume his nefarious operations. For two reasons:
firstly, that he thought it unlikely that the British authorities
would suspect his presence after what had occurred. The very audacity
of his plan would tend to put them off the scent. Secondly, he knew
full well that the Head of the German Secret Service would not
overlook his blunder unless he promptly outweighed his error by a
brilliant coup.
Accordingly he landed at Hull, and before twenty-four hours had
elapsed was within an ace of destroying a munitions factory. Foiled,
he went south, and, by blowing up two unguarded railway tunnels,
delayed important movement of troops on the way to Flanders. Here,
again, it was only by a sheer fluke that the troop train was not
derailed.
In due course accounts of the demolished tunnels appeared in the
Press, with the suggestion that the disasters had been caused by
subsidences after the heavy rains, and thus public apprehension was
allayed.
Having reported himself to his chief, von Schenck ordered him to the
West of England to assist in the escape of three German officers from
the detention camp, and to help them to cross to Ireland in readiness
for a revolt of the Sinn Feiners. Already the German authorities were
in full possession of the knowledge that an armed rising was imminent
in Ireland, and in addition to arms being conveyed thither in Hun
ships disguised as neutral merchantmen, arrangements had been made
for several German officers at present prisoners of war to join the
insurgents.
In this West Country detention camp it was a matter of consummate
ease to communicate with the imprisoned German officers. Many of the
latter were on parole (although it is generally recognised that a Hun
regards the breaking of his plighted word as a smart piece of work),
and were permitted to go freely into the neighbouring town on two
days a week. They were also allowed to purchase English daily papers
without the latter being examined when brought into the camp, and
thus many a ciphered communication passed between the prisoners and
their compatriots without.
Otto Oberfurst's method of getting into touch with the three Huns was
simplicity itself. He would buy a daily paper and make a pinprick
through those letters required to make up a word or sentence. Only by
holding the paper up to the light could the minute holes be detected.
Nor was it a difficult matter for the prisoners to obtain maps,
pocket compasses, and small but powerful wire-cutters.
The next business was to arrange for the German officers to be taken
across to Ireland. In view of the strict regulations governing the
departure of British subjects from British ports, it was obviously a
matter of almost impossibility to smuggle three young Teutons on
board a ship lying in port. Oberfurst had thought of stealing a yacht
from some unfrequented harbour, until he realised the risk of being
caught by the vigilant patrols in the Bristol Channel and especially
in the Irish Sea.
Eventually through an intermediary--he was too wily to negotiate
direct--he arranged with the hyphenated American skipper of a Yankee
tramp, that was shortly to leave Bristol for New York, to close with
the North Devon coast in the vicinity of the unfrequented Hartland
Point. The skipper was to heave-to and send a boat ashore at 3 a.m.,
and pick up the three fugitives.
Oberfurst left little to chance. A powerful motor-car took him from
Exeter to a point four miles from the camp. He intended to proceed on
foot to a prearranged rendezvous, await the German officers and walk
with them for another four miles across the moors, and to pick up
another car which was to convey the fugitives to within a short
distance of the coast.
Unfortunately for him, on leaving the first car he had followed the
road by which Tressidar and his companions were keeping their weary
vigil, and now he was a prisoner.
In the event of his plans going awry, he had firmly decided not to be
taken alive. At the same time he would make a desperate bid for
freedom before proceeding to the last extremity. In this resolve he
was thwarted. The intense pain of the laceration of his hand by the
fish-hooks, quickly followed by Mr. Greenwood's drastic and effectual
action, had completed his discomfiture before he realised that the
game was up.
"Now, my fine bird," thought Tressidar as he surveyed his captive,
"I'll take good care you don't slip through our fingers this time."
The spy made no movement, nor did he speak a word. Lying on the
ground with his legs and arms tied and Mr. Greenwood proudly mounting
guard over him, he looked helpless enough; but the sub. knew his man
and took no risks. He stood by, ready at the first suspicious
movement to act promptly and effectually.
At length the expected motor-car arrived. At the very most it could
accommodate five, not including the chauffeur. Here, indeed, was a
puzzle. Someone had to be left behind. Mr. Greenwood was on his
honour to turn up at the reservoir for guard duties. Tressidar and
the A.P. were necessary, being the only active male members of the
party, to guard the spy, who could not very well be placed in the
seat alongside the chauffeur. Doris and Norah could not be left
behind, nor was it desirable for them to be in close proximity to the
Hun. Dr. Cardyke was beginning to feel the effects of his tumble,
and, taking in consideration his age, it was unwise to leave him
exposed to the cold night air longer than could be avoided.
"Then Eric and I will remain with our old pal Oberfurst," said
Tressidar. "The rest of you carry on. Don't wait if you find a train
at the station. The car can come back for us. How about the wreckage,
doctor?"
"Can stop," decided Dr. Cardyke firmly. "I've done with the thing.
I'll send a cart in the morning to collect the luggage and things
that are of value. Well, good-bye, Tressidar, Wish you luck with your
capture."
The car, a wheezy, American-built one, started and was soon lost to
sight and hearing in the darkness, while the two naval officers were
left with their prisoner.
In an hour and a half the motor returned. Oberfurst, offering no
resistance, was placed therein, Tressidar and the A.P. sitting on the
seat facing him and keeping a watch on every movement.
Without incident the spy and his escort arrived at the little
village. Here Oberfurst was handed over to the care of the local
constabulary, the police-sergeant having been cautioned concerning
the desperate character of the prisoner. The last train having gone,
Tressidar and Eric were obliged to engage the chauffeur to drive
home. After a tedious journey they reached the Greenwoods' house to
find that the girls had not arrived, and that Mrs Greenwood was in a
state of great nervous anxiety.
To make matters worse, two telegrams were awaiting the sub. and the
A.P. The former's had been forwarded from his home in Cornwall. Both
were of the same nature:
"Report for instant duty at Naval Barracks, Devonport--urgent."