Biggles Fails To Return Part 18

continued Biggles. 'I have a plan. If we decide on it, wil you drive the party down to the sea?'

'Why should I mind? There is enough petrol. There is even a spare can, not yet opened. I am told that if I open it I shal be sent to prison; but as I shal be shot now if they catch me, how can they send me to prison for opening the petrol?'

'How, indeed?' murmured Biggles. 'It was clever of you to think of that.'

'Thank you, signor signor,' answered Mario simply.

'The question is, what shal we do with the ambulance when we get to Castil on?'

'What shal we do with it?'

'That's what I'm asking you. We can't leave it standing on the road. Could we get up the track to the vil age?'

'Who knows?'

'I thought perhaps you might,' replied Biggles softly. There were times when he found Mario's Latin habit of answering a question with a question rather trying. 'Wel , see what you can do about it. We've got to get it off the road,' he concluded.

Arriving at the end nearest to Castil on, Mario got the vehicle off the road by the simple expedient of charging the hil side, with a fine disregard for tyres, springs and pa.s.sengers. 'The ambulance doesn't belong to me,' he explained in reply to a questioning look from Biggles. With the engine racing in bottom gear the car crashed and banged its way over the rocks, and final y bounced into the vil age street.

'No one wil see it here unless a person comes to the vil age,' announced Mario carelessly. 'If a person comes tch tch,' he touched his stiletto.

Biggles dismounted, and going to the rear of the vehicle, found Bertie and Ginger, with their charges, getting out.

'For the moment you are safe, madame madame,' he said with a smile of confidence. 'Come with me and I wil take you to Henri.'

The others fol owed.

Chapter 17.

Plan For Escape The reunion of Henri and his family, whom he had not seen for three years, gave Ginger an idea of the mental anguish hundreds of thousands of people, parted by the war and unable to get in touch with each other, were suffering. It made any risks they had taken more than worth while. After watching them for a minute, Biggles beckoned to the others to fol ow him up to the kitchen, where, without preamble, he asked Bertie to report the result of his reconnaissance at the harbour.

'First I had a talk with Francois,' began Bertie.

'From the window of his house I could see everything that was going on, so the whole show was real y a slice of pie. Francois, by the way, is al against these beastly fascists who have made a mucker of jol y old Monaco. He'l do anything to annoy them, and as he has the boat he may be useful. It's my old racer, you know. I've told him he can have it-it'l be out of date for racing by the time the war is over.'

'Does the engine stil function?' put in Biggles.

'Wel , old boy, it would if it had any petrol. Francois is a first-cla.s.s mechanic, which is why I employed him in the old days, and as he couldn't bear to see the engine go to bits he has kept it on the top line-if you see what I mean? Not being able to use the motor, he's rigged up a sail for waffling up and down the coast looking after his lobster pots, which is about as much fishing as he does. By the way, he has a licence from the authorities to go fishing, so everyone is accustomed to see him pottering in and out of the harbour. We talked over the possibility of sailing to Spain, but we decided it was too far- eight hundred miles or thereabouts. Bluebird Bluebird is purely a racer, with no keel and a very shal ow draft; without power she couldn't live five minutes in a heavy sea. The Gulf of Lyons can be the very devil in a westerly gale, should we be caught out. Moreover, she was designed as a two-seater, but Francois has taken off most of the faring, so she would carry eight or nine people for a short distance in a calm sea.' is purely a racer, with no keel and a very shal ow draft; without power she couldn't live five minutes in a heavy sea. The Gulf of Lyons can be the very devil in a westerly gale, should we be caught out. Moreover, she was designed as a two-seater, but Francois has taken off most of the faring, so she would carry eight or nine people for a short distance in a calm sea.'

'That's useful to know,' murmured Biggles. 'What about the aircraft?'

'There are twelve Savoias in the harbour, moored to buoys in three lines of four-as you probably saw for yourself?' continued Bertie. 'The leading machine of the outside line carries a pennant, so presumably it's the C.O.'s* kite. The officers are living in the Bristol hotel, just opposite, and the crews are parked in the Beau Rivage, at the bottom of the hil . As far as I could make out there are no sentries except a headquarter guard in the custom-house; but if I know anything about the Ities they probably spend most of their time playing cards. I don't suppose it would occur to them that someone might borrow one of the machines. There are a fair number of troops round the harbour, bathing and what not. I gather from Francois that it goes on half the night. I've saved the most important spot of news stil last. I didn't hear this myself, but an Italian told Francois that the squadron leaves to-morrow for a secret destination, which I wasn't able to discover.'

'It doesn't matter two hoots where they're going,'

observed Biggles thoughtful y. 'But if they're pushing off to-morrow it means that as far as we're concerned to-night's the night. What time are they going?'

'I couldn't find out. There seems to be some doubt about it.'

'No matter. They'l hardly be likely to move before daylight, and by that time our show wil be over, one way or the other. Did you hear of any particular reason why they stopped here?'

'Francois thinks it was something to do with fuel- at least he heard them talking about oil and petrol.'

'Thanks, Bertie. You've done a good job. Now let us see how the show lines up. We've got quite a large party. Mario has decided to come with us, so that wil make nine al told. As far as the aircraft is concerned, that's al right; a dozen people could pack into one of those Savoias. Our big difficulty wil be Henri. He'l have to be carried. Al the same, with reasonable luck I think we ought to be able to pul this off. The Italians are an easy-going lot-thank goodness.'

Biggles thought for a little while, gazing at the floor.

Then he looked up. 'Al right,' he resumed. 'Listen careful y, everybody. This is my scheme, and success, as usual, wil depend on perfect timing. The moon is due to show just before three, so our best time for action wil be a trifle before that. What I mean is, we should have darkness when we want it, and afterwards, when a spot of light would be useful, we shal have the moon.'

'We're stil wearing Italian uniforms, don't forget,'

interposed Ginger. 'How does that work in?'

'So much the better for the scheme I have in mind.

Our two most useful a.s.sets are Mario's ambulance and Francois' boat. I'm adapting the show to use them both. Mario tel s me he is al right for petrol.

This is my idea, bearing in mind that we shal need the two fittest men in the party-that's you, Algy, and Bertie-to carry Henri. At twelve midnight Mario wil drive Ginger and me to just this side of Monaco, to within reasonable walking distance of the harbour. It would be dangerous for him to go right into the town in case they are on the look-out for him. Our job wil be to get the aircraft. Mario wil return to Castil on, where Algy wil be in charge. The whole party wil get into the ambulance, which wil then proceed to Cap Martin. Run along to the end of the cape and take cover in the trees, where the party wil wait until Francois arrives with the boat. I shal arrange that with him. I gather he knows al about us, Bertie?

Remember to tel me just where he lives.'

'Oh, yes, he knows al about you,' put in Bertie.

'Good. I shal ask him to try to be at the point of Cap Martin at two-thirty precisely. When he arrives, Algy's party wil abandon the ambulance and go to the boat, taking with them Mario's spare can of petrol, and my uniform, which I shal need. Is that clear so far?'

'Perfectly clear,' confirmed Algy.

'The point about the can of petrol is this,' went on Biggles. 'Francois wil come in under sail, and if he is al right for time he may not need the petrol. On the other hand, if there is a delay, the petrol can be used to speed things up. Put it in the tank, anyway. The boat wil then proceed to a point about two miles off the tip of Cap Martin, where, if we are not there, it wil wait. The time is now, shal we say, a few minutes to three, and the moon wil be coming up. We shal aim to get away with the Savoia in order to arrive at the same time. In short, the rendezvous is two miles off Cap Martin at three o'clock. You'l probably have to use the engine to come alongside-if we try to come to you we may swamp you. Both parties wil have to make every possible effort to be on time. I think that's al -except if the aircraft doesn't show up by that's al -except if the aircraft doesn't show up by three-fifteen you'l know we've come unstuck, in which case Francois wil take you back to Cap Martin, from where Mario wil drive you to Castil on.

That's only in the event of failure. Should it happen, Algy, in charge of the party, wil have to devise some other means of getting home. Is that al absolutely clear?'

'Yes, it seems perfectly straightforward,' agreed Algy. 'You've landed yourself, as usual, with the dirty end of the stick. Have you any idea of how you are going to get hold of this aircraft?'

'More or less. We shal simply swim out to it, cut the cable and start up. Whether we taxi to the rendezvous, or take off, wil depend on the circ.u.mstances-it's only five or six miles from the harbour to Cap Martin. Looking at the thing now, there appears to be nothing to prevent anyone from doing that, but as a result of past experience we know jol y wel that some snag usual y turns up to upset things. Anyway, that's the scheme, and we shal stick to it as long as nothing occurs to bust it up.'

'a.s.suming that al goes according to plan, and we get the machine, where do you propose to make for?' asked Ginger.

'I shal try to run straight through to England.

Natural y, that wil depend on how much fuel we find in the tanks, and the wind, if any. I've left the wind out of my calculations because the weather seems settled.'

'What about Lucil e?' asked Ginger. 'I've got very fond of that little moke.'

'Algy can turn her loose; she'l browse on these hil s til someone picks her up. Maybe she'l find her way home. Any more questions?'

n.o.body answered, so the plan, as outlined, was accepted. It was now late in the afternoon. The others were cal ed up from the cel ar and informed of the decision.

The princess smiled. 'But this is most romantic.

My ancestors would be chuckling in their graves if they knew. Until recent times, for hundreds of years this sort of thing went on up and down the coast, fighting, rescues, princes at war with each other, and the Saracens making raids everywhere.' The princess sighed. 'What days they were.'

'We're not doing so badly ourselves,' Ginger pointed out, glancing at Jeanette.

The princess intercepted the glance and smiled. 'I think you are doing very wel ,' she observed. 'When the war is over you must visit my home near Palermo -that is if Jeanette wil let you. The Sicilian girls are very good looking.'

Jeanette blushed. The princess laughed. Ginger grinned sheepishly. Bertie shook his head sadly.

Mario produced some food. n.o.body asked where he had got it from, but it was a welcome diversion.

After that they sat and discussed the plan in al its aspects while the sun went down in a blaze of gold and crimson behind the long arm of Cap d'Antibes, far to the west. Princess Marietta went back to the cel ar and returned to say that Henri seemed slightly better. His mother was stil with him.

'Which reminds me,' said Algy, addressing Biggles. 'Do you real y feel up to this show to-night?

You haven't been on your feet very long.'

'I couldn't do it if there was likely to be much violent exercise,' admitted Biggles. 'But as far as one can foresee, that isn't likely to arise. Bar accidents, I should be okay.'

Algy did not pursue the subject, and after that there was little to do except wait for the time to pa.s.s until zero hour.

Just before midnight, after a handshake al round, Biggles, Ginger and Mario, in accordance with the arrangement, went to the ambulance which, not without difficulty, was coaxed back to the road. At Biggles' suggestion they al sat on the front seat, where their uniforms would be seen if they were stopped, and so made their way, slowly, for the night was dark, to Mentone. Turning right, Mario went on to the outskirts of Monte Carlo, the ambulance taking its place in a considerable convoy going in the same direction. At a convenient spot it stopped. Biggles and Ginger got out. Mario turned the car and disappeared up the road on the return journey.

Biggles and Ginger walked on towards the harbour.

There were a number of Italian military cars, guns and tanks, parked beside the road, and a fair number of soldiers were moving about, but none had anything to say to the two officers who walked along as though they were out for a strol before turning in.

Without once being accosted they reached the harbour, where a few soldiers, presumably late arrivals, were having a midnight bathe. In a few arrivals, were having a midnight bathe. In a few minutes they were outside Francois' little house, knocking on the door.

It was opened after a short delay by the old boatman in his nightshirt. He looked startled when he saw his uniformed visitors, but Biggles soon put him at ease by explaining who they were. 'May we come in?' he concluded.

' Oui, oui, messieurs Oui, oui, messieurs, enter,' invited Francois cordial y.

They went in and closed the door.

In the tiny parlour Biggles explained why they had come to see him. 'I know that you wil be wil ing to help us, because by helping us you wil be helping France,' he went on. As he spoke Biggles took from his pocket his rol of French notes, and in spite of Francois' protests he pressed it into his hand. 'I can't take the money with me,' he pointed out. 'I shal have no means of carrying it in the water; if I tried it would only get wet, and spoiled.'

Francois demurred, but in the end accepted the money-a big sum for a man in his position.

Biggles then went on to describe just what he wanted him to do, that under the pretence of looking at his lobster pots he should sail along to Cap Martin, pick up the refugees, and take them to the rendezvous. Without hesitation Francois expressed his wil ingness to do this. He went quietly upstairs and returned ful y dressed.

'I wil go now,' he said.

'Yes, you had better start right away to be on the safe side,' agreed Biggles. 'Whatever happens, you must be at Cap Martin by half-past two.' He looked at his watch. 'You should manage it; there isn't much breeze, but you've got nearly two hours.'

'If the wind goes I use my oars,' said Francois.

'What about your wife? Is she awake? Does she know about this? I ask because we shal have to stay here for a while.'

'No, she sleeps,' answered Francois. 'It is better not to tel her. And so you wil remain here?'

'Yes, if you don't mind,' replied Biggles. 'We had to come early in order to explain everything and give you a chance to get Cap Martin. We wil just sit here quietly.'

' C'est bon. Au revoir, messieurs C'est bon. Au revoir, messieurs .' Francois departed. .' Francois departed.

'Now we've got to kil time,' Biggles told Ginger, standing where, through the open window, he could watch the harbour. It was too dark to see very much, but splashing indicated that some of the troops were stil bathing. 'I hope they'l stay there,' went on Biggles, referring to the bathers. 'It wil be supposed that we are in the party when we take to the water if we are seen. By the way, I propose to take the C.O.'s machine-it wil probably be the best of the bunch. It means a swim of about a hundred yards.

We'l land on the buoy, and pul the machine up to it.'

'What about these uniforms?'

'I was thinking about that. It's an awkward business swimming in clothes. I shan't need mine after I leave here because Algy is bringing my own uniform along. I can put it on later in the machine.

What about you? If you leave your Italian outfit here, where are you going to wear later on?' Biggles smiled. 'You'l find it a bit parky, flying in your birthday suit!'

'You don't suppose I'm going to join the party looking like Adam, do you?' answered Ginger coldly.

'There are ladies, don't forget. I'l dump my tunic, but stick to the slacks, also my shirt. We shal have to abandon our shoes.'

Nothing more was said for a little while. Then Biggles remarked, 'This waiting is a tedious business, but it couldn't be avoided. Mario had to get back and we had to give Francois time to do his stuff.'

Not until twenty to three did Biggles move. Then he stripped off his uniform, retaining only his vest, pants and belt. Through the belt he pushed his automatic, and a sheathed stiletto which he took from his pocket.

'Where on earth did you get that knife?' asked Ginger.

'Borrowed it from Mario.'

'What's the idea? Are you going to start stabbing people?'

'Not yet. It's to cut the mooring rope. We can't waste time untying wet knots. Got your gun?'

'It's in my trousers pocket. My torch is in the other if you need it.' As he spoke Ginger discarded his tunic and shoes.

'Al right. Let's get along,' proposed Biggles.

'We'd better take these uniforms with us and dump them in the drink; it won't do to leave them here in case there's a row, and a search, in which case case there's a row, and a search, in which case Francois would get it in the neck.'

Picking up the now unwanted clothes, they went out and closed the door softly behind them. One or two swimmers stil lingered on the quay, otherwise the harbour was quiet. The water lay placid under the stars. Some distance out the silhouettes of the aircraft could just be seen, looking like prehistoric monsters tethered to rocks. Faintly across the water strains of music came from the customs house, where a radio was playing a waltz. Vague shadows could be seen moving against the light of a half-open door.

Biggles lowered himself gently into the water and jettisoned his uniform. Ginger did the same. Ripples spread from the spot, reflecting the cool light of the stars.

Without a word, using a steady breast stroke, they began swimming towards their objective.