The Fight for Constantinople Part 12

"Yaas--wonerful, dat is so. Now I tell you dis; de German General, von Sanders, ordered you plis'ners to be sent to Skutari. Telim Pasha, he say 'no'. Telim Pasha friend of Englis and of Ahmed Djezzar. When Englis army come: how many soldiers?"

Ahmed raised his eyebrows inquiringly. The Sub shook his head.

"I don't know," he replied shortly.

"P'laps twenty tousand?"

"I haven't the faintest idea."

For a brief instant Ahmed showed signs of disappointment.

"Dey come soon?" he asked.

"I cannot tell," replied d.i.c.k, beginning to feel nettled by the fellow's inquisitiveness. "Now, clear out; we want to have a rest."

The man obeyed. As before he locked the door after him. Directly the door clicked d.i.c.k sprang swiftly and noiselessly out of bed, crossed the room, and placed his ear to the keyhole. Hearing nothing, he peered through the narrow slit; then with a grim smile on his face he returned to his bed, at the same time holding up a warning finger to check the mystified midshipman's enquiry.

"h.e.l.lo! There's a sea-plane!" exclaimed d.i.c.k about a quarter of an hour later. He hastened to one of the windows, while Farnworth, walking unsteadily from the effects of his injuries, took up his stand at an adjoining one.

The whirr of the aerial propellers grew louder and louder. The Turkish soldiers, lolling about in the courtyard within the fort, overcame their lethargy sufficiently to raise their heads and follow the course of the aeroplane.

Presently it pa.s.sed almost overhead, proceeding in a south-westerly direction. It was flying low--at about two hundred feet. On the under side of the main plane were two red crescents--the distinguishing marks of the Turkish air-craft.

Hearing the whirr of the blades, other soldiers hurried from the buildings. Amongst them were two German officers.

The latter waited until the sea-plane was out of sight; then, allowing their swords to clank noisily over the stones, they walked towards the opposite side of the quadrangle, the Turkish soldiers standing stiffly at attention as they did so.

At that moment someone hailed them.

Turning on their heels the officers retraced their steps. Curiosity prompted d.i.c.k to crane his head to follow their movements. Not altogether to his surprise he discovered that the owner of the peremptory voice was the self-styled Ahmed Djezzar. In spite of being in the uniform of a Turkish bluejacket the two Germans saluted.

"No luck," he reported, speaking in German--a language that, after many mentally and bodily painful hours at school and a subsequent "roasting"

at Osborne and Dartmouth, d.i.c.k could follow, with comparative ease.

"No luck. The English swine do not seem communicative. I'll try them again; then, if that fails, we'll take other measures."

CHAPTER IX

In Captivity

"You were wondering what I was doing just now," d.i.c.k.

"When you tiptoed to the door?" asked Farnworth.

"Yes. I couldn't explain at the time, because friend Ahmed had his ear glued to the keyhole. He's not listening now. He's just had two German officers kow-towing to him."

"Eh?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the midshipman incredulously.

"Fact! I had my suspicions, and now they are fully confirmed. The fellow's name is no more Ahmed Djezzar than mine is. He's a German.

You noticed he was very persistent in asking questions about the British Expeditionary Force in the Dardanelles?"

"Yes, sir; and you jolly well boomed him off. He didn't appear to like it."

"He's got some infernal scheme under way. He's just told the other fellows, who are evidently inferior in rank to him in spite of his rig as a Turkish bluejacket, that he hasn't been at all successful at pumping us, up to the present, but that he means to have another shot at it. Failing this, he hints at strong measures, so we must be prepared to undergo a little discomfort."

"What do you propose to do, sir?"

"Let him have it hot if he starts his 'Me friend of Englis officers'.

This room would be all right for half a dozen rounds. I think I could alter the shape of his figurehead. h.e.l.lo, there's that seaplane returning, and, by Jove, they're firing!"

The officers rushed to the windows once more. Although they could not see immediately overhead, they had a fairly comprehensive view of the sky from west through north to north-east.

The courtyard was now filled with Turkish soldiers and sailors, all roused at the noise of the approaching air-craft. Most of them had their rifles and were preparing to open fire, while upon the broad rampart on the far side men were making ready with a couple of anti-aircraft guns.

"One of our sea-planes in pursuit, I think," observed Farnworth excitedly.

"I think you're right. h.e.l.lo--here's the Turkish aeroplane."

The monoplane was travelling fast in a northerly direction. The pilot was not visible, but the observer had faced about and was firing with a rifle at the pursuer, which had not yet come within the British officers' range of vision.

Even as d.i.c.k and his companion watched, a bullet cut through a pair of tension wires to the right-hand main plane. The sea-plane started to bank, slipped, and fell sideways like a wounded bird. More and more it tilted till both pilot and observer were flung from their seats.

Frantically grasping the thin air they dropped with ever-increasing velocity, till their line of descent was hidden by the intervening buildings; but the officers distinctly heard two separate thuds as the bodies struck the earth.

With its propeller still revolving rapidly, the disabled monoplane described erratic curves. Suddenly the Turkish soldiers bolted for dear life, as the uncontrollable air-craft plunged almost vertically downwards into the courtyard. With a fearful crash it landed twenty yards from the window at which the Sub and his companion had taken stand. The litter of framework and canvas trailed on the ground like the gear of a dismasted racing yacht; then, as the petrol took fire, a column of flame rose fifty feet in the air.

"There she is!" almost shouted the midshipman.

Less than two hundred feet above Fort Medjidieh glided a large biplane.

The motor had been switched off, for the crew had vol-planed down from a far greater height in order to make sure of their work.

"A Frenchman!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Crosthwaite, for the tricolours on the under side of the main planes were clearly visible. "Hope he'll drop a couple of heavy bombs upon these ragam.u.f.fins. I'd be quite willing to the risk of any pieces. .h.i.tting me."

The courtyard was now deserted, but from the doors and windows ab.u.t.ting on the open s.p.a.ce, red-fezzed Turks peeped timorously, some of them plucking up courage to fire at the daring sea-plane. As for the crews of the anti-aircraft guns, they scurried off without letting fly a single round. The two German officers who had been conversing with the so-called Ahmed tried to restrain them, but in vain. One of the officers then began to train the nearest gun, but he, too, thought better of it, for holding his sword to prevent himself being tripped up, he ignominiously ran for shelter.

By this time the biplane had restarted its motor and was banking steeply. None of the shots fired at it had taken effect, nor did the aeroplane attempt to drop any bombs. Apparently its mission had been to chase the inquisitive Turkish monoplane, and to observe the nature of the defences of Fort Medjidieh. Having thrice circled over the hostile position with contemptuous indifference to the desultory fusillade, it returned towards its base.

Directly it turned tail the Turkish infantrymen and artillerymen issued from their shelters in swarms, and for five minutes--long after the French air-craft was out of range--a terrific waste of ammunition testified to the tardy zeal of the Ottoman soldiery.

During this time d.i.c.k saw nothing of Ahmed. The Teuton--for such he was--had made himself scarce. Nor did he put in an appearance during the rest of the day, the evening meal being brought in by a Nubian.

After breakfast on the following day the British officers were taken out for exercise under the escort of a file of soldiers. Their walk was limited to the extent of the courtyard, so that the Sub had no opportunity of taking mental notes of the details of the interior of the fort, for the heavy guns commanding The Narrows were hidden from sight by the barrack quarters.

Twenty minutes were allowed them. The Sub was able to smoke, some excellent cigarettes being given him by the corporal in charge of the party. At the expiration of the time the prisoners were marched back to their quarters, where they found Ahmed, unruffled and obsequious, awaiting them.

"Well, Ahmed," said d.i.c.k, with well-a.s.sumed jocularity, "we didn't see much of you yesterday. I thought perhaps you had been sent to take the captured British submarine to Constantinople."