RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
"DON'T distress yourself, Mr. Sinclair," said Captain Brookes, "it
may cause my guests considerable uneasiness. Reply by merely
acknowledging the signal; no more. Then report to me the earliest
moment at which the ship can be undocked."
When the lieutenant had retired the captain turned to his officers.
"This is a strange business, gentlemen," he remarked, briskly,
"though we must be prepared to deal with little unpleasantnesses of
this sort. In the first place I did not expect a British squadron in
these waters, still less did I think they would worry me with
messages of this kind. I can only conclude that a telegraphic message
has been sent from Lota or Coronel apprising the fleet of our
presence here. In any case they've been mighty smart about it."
"What do you propose to do, sir?" asked Lieutenant Slade.
"Do? Why, trick them. Look here, Mr. Tregarthen," he added, "I'll
remember my promise to you, and what is more, it's my resolution not
to commit any action that may be regarded as the act of a
belligerent. Meanwhile it would be a good opportunity for you to
write your report to the Admiralty, for, mark my words, they'll send
a boat in the morning."
"I've already done so, sir," replied Gerald. "Do you wish to see the
document?"
"No, no; I have the greatest confidence in you, Mr. Tregarthen; it
would be a breach of etiquette on my part if I were to supervise your
correspondence."
"I have not the slightest objection----"
"But I have, so please say no more on this subject. Ha! Here's
Sinclair once more."
"Message dispatched as stated, sir. The bos'n reports ship will be
ready to be undocked at midnight," laconically announced the officer
of the watch.
"Very good--carry on," was the stereotyped reply.
Captain Brookes appeared to be in no hurry. The dinner seemed unduly
prolonged, and it was six bells ere the captain set the example by
going on deck.
Away in the offing the powerful beams of the searchlights of the
blockading squadron played continuously on the town and harbour,
while from the mastheads of the ships the flashing signals blinked
incessantly. Judging by the number of beams there were at least four
vessels, but of what strength the officers of the _Olive Branch_ were
unable to ascertain.
In spite of Captain Brookes's coolness a sense of uneasiness pervaded
the officers and men of the trapped cruiser, for without resorting to
extreme measures it seemed impossible for the _Olive Branch_ to make
a bid for freedom.
Punctually at midnight the sound of rushing water announced that the
sluices to the culverts were opened, and three-quarters of an hour
later the cruiser, now fit to proceed to sea, was warped into the
centre of the harbour.
The commandante and the alcalde were sent ashore, all claims settled,
and with stores and water tanks replenished, the _Olive Branch_ swung
easily at her cable, awaiting the dawn.
"Do you recognise any of these vessels, Mr. Tregarthen?" asked
Captain Brookes as the sun appeared over the summit of the Andes.
"Yes, sir; the one flying the commodore's broad pennant is the
_Niobe_, protected cruiser; the others are the _Melampus, Cambrian_,
and _Amethyst_."
"All out-of-date vessels on their last legs," commented the captain
of the _Olive Branch_. "I suppose they are good enough for the
ordinary work on this station; but, by Jove! it's lucky for them that
I can keep myself under control. Either that commodore is mad, or he
does not know the risk he's running."
"Is it madness to carry out orders, sir?" asked Gerald, quietly.
"Under certain conditions, yes; discretion should always be a proviso
in such cases. But here comes a boat."
As he spoke a steam pinnace flying the white ensign came pelting
towards the harbour, throwing up columns of spray as she plunged
through the agitated water on the bar.
"Ship the accommodation ladder," ordered the officer of the watch,
and for the first time in the commission of the _Olive Branch_ was
this means of gaining access to the cruiser made use of.
"Desire the officer to step down to my cabin," said Captain Brookes,
as he turned to leave the quarter-deck.
The pinnace made the foot of the ladder to a nicety, and a lieutenant
in full uniform, accompanied by a "sub," came over the side,
punctiliously, yet sourly, returning the salute.
"Hello, Tregarthen! What the dickens are you doing aboard this
packet?" exclaimed the British officer in undisguised astonishment.
"Don't you know me?"
"Yes, of course; it's Blake."
"Right, old man; but again, why masquerading in mufti on this
hooker?"
"Because I cannot help it," replied Gerald. "To be exact, I'm a
prisoner, though only a nominal one. Also, I'm on leave. In another
twenty-three days I am supposed to rejoin the _Calder_, but I'm
afraid I shan't."
"We'll rescue you, old fellow, never fear."
"Don't be so sure about that. It's a long story, but this letter will
explain matters. Now you had better be off, for the captain awaits
you in his cabin, and the officer of the watch looks as if he's
growing impatient." So saying Gerald handed the lieutenant the
document he had prepared, and withdrew to where Stockton was
observing, with mixed feelings, the pinnace of the _Niobe_ as she lay
alongside.
[Illustration: As night fell the searchlights played with unceasing
vigilance upon the harbour. Suddenly Captain Brookes turned to
Gerald. "Does my compact forbid me using the Z-rays?" he asked.]
In less than a quarter of an hour the English lieutenant, accompanied
by Captain Brookes, reappeared on the quarter-deck. Without betraying
any of the circumstances of the interview the former went over the
side, and the pinnace steamed swiftly back to her parent ship.
"Well, gentlemen, it's only right that you should know the true state
of affairs," began the captain. "I have affirmed that, save for the
matter concerning the detention of Mr. Tregarthen and Mr. Stockton, I
have never committed any action against the British Government that
warrants such interference, and therefore I question the commodore's
right to demand our surrender. If, in the execution of my
self-imposed duty, I have unfortunately been compelled to take stern
measures with the _Afrika_, that quarrel is between the German
authorities and myself. On that score I have made my protest to the
commodore of yonder squadron."
An hour later the pinnace returned, the lieutenant bearing a verbal
message from the British commodore that he was there to carry out
orders, not to quibble over them, but that he was prepared to put
Captain Brookes's protest before the Admiralty in a favourable light
should the surrender be immediately carried out.
This message the lieutenant gave in the presence of all the officers
of the _Olive Branch_, possibly imagining that the moral effect might
be greater.
Captain Brookes's swarthy countenance darkened.
"Go back to your ship, sir!" he thundered. "Inform your superior
officer that I scornfully refuse his terms. Here is the _Olive
Branch. If he wants her, let him come in and take her_."
A low murmur of applause from his officers greeted this announcement,
and once again the English lieutenant returned to his ship.
"I am beginning to repent of our bargain, Mr. Tregarthen," remarked
the captain. "But, by Jove! I'll keep my word. We are safe enough for
the time being, for they will never dare to enter the harbour without
obtaining the consent of the Chilian Government. Meanwhile I can only
hope for an on-shore gale and a dark night."
All that day and the night following the blockading squadron remained
on the _qui vive_, but on the next morning the gale that Captain
Brookes wished for had begun.
Dead on shore it blew, the crested breakers thrashing upon the
shallows that flanked the entrance. The sky was overcast, and heavy
rain descended incessantly. At about noon the waves became so high
that the British ships, already rolling their main decks under, stood
out to sea so as to escape the discomforts of an on-shore berth.
Nevertheless, as night fell, the searchlights played with unceasing
vigilance upon the harbour of Talcahuano.
"Confound those searchlights!" muttered Captain Brookes, then turning
to Gerald he exclaimed, "Look here, Mr. Tregarthen, does my compact
forbid me the use of the Z-rays? I think not."
Gerald did not know what to reply. This act alone could hardly be
termed a belligerent one, and at the same time no permanent damage to
_personnel_ or material was likely to ensue.
"I'll risk it," continued the captain, and giving orders to clear
deck for general quarters, he made his way to the conning-tower.
One glance at the foaming bar where the water gleamed silvery white
under the beams of the concentrated searchlights showed him that the
plan was a desperate one. A deviation of half a cable's length to
port or starboard would be fatal even to the _Olive Branch_, for no
vessel could run aground on those deadly shoals and hope to survive.
Suddenly, as if by the touch of a magic hand, the searchlights
vanished, leaving only a black expanse of storm-tossed waters.
Captain Brookes had made use of the Z-rays.
Slowly the anchor came home from its muddy bed, the engine-room
telegraph signalled full speed ahead, and at her utmost possible
speed the _Olive Branch_ dashed towards the bar, every revolution of
her propellers bringing her nearer the alert yet mystified British
squadron.
She was running the gauntlet. Perils unseen awaited her ahead and on
either hand. Another five minutes would decide her fate.
_(Another long instalment of this splendid serial next month.)_
[Illustration: fourth instalment]
BY PERCY F. WESTERMAN
Author of "A Lad of Grit," etc.
_ILLUSTRATED BY E. S. HODGSON_
*Synopsis*
GERALD TREGARTHEN, sub-lieutenant of H.M.S. _Calder_, being on leave,
sails from Poole with his old school chum Jack Stockton on board the
latter's yacht _Playmate_. In mid-Channel the yacht is run down; the
two friends are rescued, and find themselves on board a mysterious
cruiser--the Olive Branch--commanded by Captain Brookes. Finding that
Tregarthen is a British naval officer, Captain Brookes announces his
intention of keeping him on board, and, after due deliberation,
Gerald decides to fall in with the captain's plans, as far as his
sense of loyalty will permit.
Tregarthen is initiated into the secrets of the _Olive Branch_,
including that of the deadly ZZ-rays--an irresistible charge of
electricity whereby the destruction of a hostile ship can be made at
will. Captain Brookes also explains that by the power at his command
he hopes to make war so terrible that no nation will venture to
declare war; thus universal peace will be assured.
During the voyage south Schneider, the ship's scientist, deserts,
taking with him some important plans. He is found on board a German
"tramp," and is brought back to the _Olive Branch_, which when this
action is reported is branded as a pirate.
Hostilities break out between Chili and Peru, and Captain Brookes
determines to intervene. The _Olive Branch_ is damaged by a mine, and
puts into a Chilian harbour for repairs; but while in dock it is
trapped by a British squadron demanding its surrender by daybreak.
Captain Brookes is handicapped by a vow never to fire on a British
vessel. At midnight when the damage to his ship has been repaired, he
makes use of his Z-rays to extinguish the searchlights of the British
squadron. Then the _Olive Branch_ starts forward at full speed.
[Illustration: chapter XV]