Dave Darrin and the German Submarines Part 36

"A just fate, but a pity it could not have been made ten times more severe," muttered Dave, as, through the gla.s.s, he saw the submersible careen under the impact, with a swift listing to starboard.

There was no use bothering further about the fate of the enemy. That was already settled. There were travelers, many of them Americans, to be saved as far as saving could be done.

As though to keep the submersible mocking company, the "Griswold" gave a final lurch, then settled quietly under the waves despite the immensity of her hull.

"Put around to port-back!" shouted Darrin, his voice now cool and steady as the realization of his rescue duties came to him. "Slow," he added, warningly. "We must be careful not to upset those boats with our wash."

After making the turn, Darrin ordered the speed reduced still more, as he saw human figures ahead on the dark waves-some swimming, others floating in death.

Not waiting for the order the searchlight men deflected the light, sending a beam out across the waters as the "Grigsby," moving slowly enough now, steamed along to one side of the forms in the water. Other seamen, at the edge of the slippery deck, stood by to heave lines to those who could grasp them.

The light, as it rested upon the water at a point seventy-five yards from the destroyer, revealed a woman's features.

Dave gave a start, rubbing his eyes as though sure he was the victim of some hideous illusion.

His eyesight was excellent; there could be no mistaking.

"Belle!" burst from him, in a convulsive sob.

Before those with him could divine his purpose, Dave Darrin leaped from the bridge to the deck below.

An agonized moment he devoted to the removing of c.u.mbersome rubber boots. Less than half as much time was required to throw off cap and coat. Then bounding forward, he leaped and sprang out, his clasped hands cleaving the water ahead of him as he struck through the waves.

Another splash, half a second later. But Darrin did not know that another swam behind him.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE FIGHT TO BRING BELLE BACK

It had really been Belle's white, motionless face that had floated by.

She had been in the boat Dave saw shattered by the sh.e.l.l.

Nor did Darrin once lose sight of her as he struck out fiercely until, when he was within fifteen feet of his goal, Belle sank without cry or voluntary movement.

Darrin made a great lunge forward and dived. He was seeking her, desperately!

Behind came that other swimming figure.

So true had been the aim of Darrin's lunging leap forward, that now, as he went deeper, one of his hands touched her. He seized Belle and shot up to the surface.

"A hand right here, sir!" sounded the cheery, enthusiastic voice of Boatswain's Mate Runkle. "Let me help you, sir."

Of a truth Dave was in need of help. His emotion had spent him more than the mere physical effort had done. He felt limp, weak, but the infection of Runkle's cheerful, cool tone made Dave once more master of himself.

"Take it easy, sir," advised the boatswain's mate. "They're lowering a boat."

"Can you see the boat?"

"No, sir."

"Hear it?"

"No, sir."

"Then how do you know-"

"I know an American man-o'-war's crew, sir. They wouldn't be doing anything else. All we have to do, sir, is to keep her afloat. I'll stake my soul on that, sir."

And then Dave did see a boat come into view, and heard the st.u.r.dy splash of oars-heard the c.o.xwain's brisk orders.

So weak was Dave that he almost wished to clasp Belle to him that they might sink together and be at rest. To take her from the water only to lay her in a grave on sh.o.r.e-what did it really matter after all? And for himself-what?

"Stand by, bowman there!" rapped out the c.o.xwain's voice, as the small boat shot along under rapid headway. "The boat-hook! The woman first!"

Deftly the hook was caught in Belle's soaked garments.

"And now the skipper!" called Runkle, who had transferred his support to Dave Darrin. "As for me, stand clear! I'll pull myself aboard."

Other boats came out from the destroyer. These, with the numerous boats from the sunken liner and a number of rafts that dotted the water, all had to be collected. The "Grigsby's" whistle broke hoa.r.s.ely on the air, calling them in.

The boat that carried Darrin and Belle was the first to reach the destroyer. Dave bore his wife up over the side.

"I shall take her to my quarters," he informed Lieutenant Fernald. "See that the surgeon is sent there at once. Runkle, you are all right?"

"Never more so, sir," replied the boatswain's mate.

"Go below and put on dry clothing."

Dave staggered along with his precious burden into his own quarters, which he never used on a patrolling cruise. He laid Belle tenderly on his bunk and called up the bridge.

"Mr. Fernald, are the pa.s.sengers from the 'Griswold' being taken aboard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any women among them?"

"Several, sir."

"Some that do not require attention themselves and can lend a hand here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then will you find two who will volunteer to come here, and ask them to do so immediately?"

"At once, sir."