The Fight for Constantinople Part 25

"A matter of twenty minutes to drill the holes, sir, and say another twenty to ship the thing and connect up the rods."

"Good--carry on!" said Huxtable encouragingly.

The artificer hurried below, and, a.s.sisted by willing hands, proceeded with the self-imposed task. The work had to be done as silently as possible, lest the noise, travelling far on the quiet night air, should betray their presence.

"Capital man that!" remarked the Lieutenant-Commander to d.i.c.k. "I wouldn't mind betting a month's pay that he'll turn out the complete job before the elapse of the time he mentioned. Otherwise I wouldn't care to let him tackle it, for it will be dawn very soon. Fortunately, it looks a bit misty. I shouldn't be surprised if we have a thick haze when the sun rises, in which case we can afford to keep on the surface a little longer."

His prognostics were correct, for with the first blush of dawn a low-lying layer of vapour began to roll across the surface of the sea.

The submarine, rendered invisible even at a short distance, was fairly safe from surprise, since the sound-conducting properties of moisture-laden atmosphere would enable her crew to detect the approach of another vessel by the thud of her engines long before she came within observation.

"May as well enjoy a smoke, Crosthwaite," remarked Huxtable, producing a cigarette-case. "It's a good chance, since it's too light for the glimmer of a cigarette to be detected, even if there were no mists hanging about. Mr. Devereux, you might pa.s.s the word for the hands on deck to smoke."

Gladly the thoughtful concession on the part of the skipper was acted upon. The men, producing pipes and cigarettes, fully appreciated the order, since smoking and the use of matches were rigidly forbidden down below, owing to the danger of petrol fumes.

Presently the sun rose above the hills on the Asiatic sh.o.r.e, shedding streaks of crimson across the eastern sky. Athwart the rays wisps of ragged clouds and "wind-galls" betokened rough weather at no distant date.

"I hear we're having a shot at Constantinople, sir," remarked Farnworth to d.i.c.k. "Mr. Devereux has been telling me that we're also going to have a look at Scutari. Won't the Turks have a surprise!"

"Naturally," replied d.i.c.k. "And we've a lot in our favour. They'll take it for granted that a Russian submarine has been operating from the Black Sea, and consequently they will devote all their energies to preventing her return through the Bosphorus. That will give us a rattling good chance to get back without being detected. By the by, how are you feeling--fit?"

"Spiffing!" replied the midshipman. "I really must have a shot for the submarine branch after this. The only thing I feel I want to do is to stretch my legs."

"I should have thought you had enough of that when we tramped over the hills from Medjidieh," remarked the Sub.

"That's just it--too much at one time and not enough the next. The result is that I'm as stiff as blazes for want of homeopathic treatment."

The midshipman, who, like his brother officer, had taken an early opportunity to discard his captured German uniform, was arrayed in a pair of trousers belonging to Devereux--which fitted only where they touched--and a sweater. Yet, strangely enough, the cap lent him by the Acting Sub of the submarine was much too small for him, owing to the fact that his head had not regained its normal size after the blow he had received on the occasion of the "little sc.r.a.p" in Yenikeui Bay.

With some minutes to the good, Parsons re-appeared on deck and reported that the rudder was ready to be shipped. With the aid of half a dozen seamen, the metal plate was whipped on deck and taken aft. Here, by dint of working up to their knees in water, the artificers succeeded in bolting it in position, and the preliminary trial of the actuating rods gave promise of success.

"Excellent, Parsons!" declared the Lieutenant-Commander warmly. "I'll take advantage of the first opportunity and report to the Admiral upon your zeal and ingenuity."

Ordering the hands to their stations, Huxtable brought the craft awash and had the motors re-started. At a modest five knots, since speed was no object, the submarine resumed her course. Huxtable's plan was to submerge as soon as Prince's Island--one of a group about ten or twelve miles to the south-east of the Ottoman capital--came in sight, and remain on the bed of the sea until daybreak on the following day.

Then, taking advantage of the early light, he would approach, with the periscope frequently showing, until he "spotted" his prey--which he hoped would be the recreant German battle-cruiser _Goeben_, or, failing that, the _Breslau_.

About mid-day Prince's Island hove in sight. The submarine, having taken her bearings, dived to avoid a fleet of feluccas evidently engaged in fishing; for only upon the supposedly impregnable Sea of Marmora did the Turkish fishermen--all of them too old to be called upon to serve in the Ottoman navy--dare to ply their business. The fear of Russian destroyers had long before swept the Black Sea clear of all Turkish merchantmen and small craft.

"May as well have a look round before we dive," declared Huxtable, as the submarine reached her desired temporary resting-place. "The sun's right behind us, and the glare will effectually prevent anyone on sh.o.r.e from spotting our periscope. I'm rather curious to know what that square tower is, and whether it is armed."

Two hundred yards only from the lurking submarine the sh.o.r.e rose with comparative steepness from the sea. According to the chart there was a depth of eight fathoms up to within twenty yards of the south side of the island, and owing to a faint southerly current, caused by the discharge of the pent-up waters of the Bosphorus into the wide expanse of the Sea of Marmora, the water in the vicinity of the group of islands was thick, and tinged with a sandy deposit, rendering it well adapted for purposes of submarine concealment.

Dead ahead was a small creek, on the eastern side of which was an old stone tower, about thirty feet in height and capped by a loopholed parapet. On this flew the Ottoman Crescent, while the sun glinted upon the bayonet of a befezzed sentry as he leisurely paced the ground in front of the low gateway. At the water's edge below the tower was a rough wooden pier of less than twenty yards in length. It was in a very decrepit condition, for several of the piles were raking at alarming angles, while the single handrail in several places had broken away from its supports.

Even as the officers of the submarine kept the tower and its vicinity under observation the sentry began to show signs of alacrity. He shouted something--although no sound reached the confined s.p.a.ce of the submerged vessel--and pointed sea-wards. Instantly Huxtable grasped the wheel of the diving gear, at the same time ordering the men to "stand by".

But it was not on account of the submarine that the Turkish sentry gave the alarm, for other soldiers, to the number of about a dozen, appeared and pointed seawards, but not in the direction of the lurking craft.

One of them entered the tower, and presently hoisted a signal from the stumpy flagstaff.

Training the periscope astern, the Lieutenant-Commander discovered the reason for the excitement ash.o.r.e. A small paddle-steamer was approaching from the direction of the Bosphorus.

"A representative of the Ottoman navy," said Huxtable with a laugh.

"Etiquette demands that we should not intrude, so we'll make ourselves scarce."

Quickly, yet with hardly a swirl to denote her position, the submarine sank to the bed of the Sea of Marmora. Ten minutes later the dull thud of the steamer's paddles announced the fact that she was pa.s.sing almost over her unsuspected enemy.

"We'll have another squint at her," decided the skipper. "It will be fairly safe to do so, since the Turks will be fully occupied with the visit of the vessel."

As soon as the periscope showed a foot above the water the Lieutenant-Commander took a lengthy survey. Then he turned to Crosthwaite, who was the only other officer standing by the bowl of the periscope.

"What do you make of that?" he asked.

d.i.c.k looked. The steamer was now berthed at the head of the pier, on which stood a Turkish lieutenant and the file of sun-helmeted soldiers, all with rifles and fixed bayonets. Pa.s.sing up the gangway were several men dressed in naval uniforms, while at their heels came more Ottoman soldiers.

"Our men!" exclaimed d.i.c.k.

"I think so, too," replied Huxtable, "but I am not absolutely certain.

They are prisoners, that is quite evident."

The distance was too great to enable either of the two officers to distinguish details, but the captives were not Frenchmen: the absence of the red tuft on their caps told that. They might be Russians, but it was impossible to see whether they wore the blue-and-white jerseys that would in that case take the place of the flannel "pneumonia catchers" worn by the British bluejacket. All the men wore beards, but, as d.i.c.k knew by personal experience, that might be owing to being held in captivity for several weeks without facilities for shaving.

As soon as the prisoners were ash.o.r.e a Turkish officer came off the steamer and engaged in conversation with the lieutenant in charge of the little garrison. A doc.u.ment, apparently a list of the prisoners, changed hands, and the two officers parted, the former returning on board, while the lieutenant leisurely followed the men who were escorting the prisoners towards the tower.

The steamer showed no signs of casting off. She strongly resembled the old Thames paddle-wheelers of thirty years or more ago; but a couple of Krupp quick-firers were mounted behind light steel shields--one for'ard, the other aft. As she rolled sluggishly in the slight swell it could be seen that the vessel's hull below the water-line was thickly covered with weeds.

"A study in contrasts, sir," observed d.i.c.k. "Quick-firers and wireless installation on board a ramshackle paddle-wheeler."

"M'yes," admitted Huxtable automatically, for his attention was centred upon the progress of the little band of captives.

Closely guarded, they were marched into the tower. Only five soldiers went with them; the rest, having piled arms, either strolled back to the pier or else made for a long, low building that served as a barracks.

Once more the submarine descended, for the steamer began to show signs of activity. The rhythmic beats of her paddles as she pa.s.sed overhead gave Huxtable an inspiration.

"I'll follow her, by Jove!" he exclaimed. "Ten to one she's going back to Constantinople. It's too good a chance to lose!"

CHAPTER XVI

A Daring Stroke

The Lieutenant-Commander's decision was a sound one. By following the slowly-moving Turkish steamer, maintaining her distance solely by the noise of the latter's paddles, the submarine could keep entirely submerged and yet be led towards a recognized anchorage in the Ottoman navy. It only remained to be seen whether the steamer was making for Constantinople or not. In any case the submarine would be miles nearer her destination by nightfall; but, if the Turkish vessel were bound for the Golden Horn, Huxtable meant to attack at the first opportunity, without waiting for dawn, and trust to the ensuing confusion following the complete surprise to effect his escape.

Twenty minutes elapsed. Huxtable's face began to grow long, for the compa.s.s course showed that the submarine was being led in a direction S.S.E. Was it possible, he asked himself, that the wretched little paddle-boat was making for Nagara or some of the other Dardanelles forts?

"I'll hang on for another ten minutes," he declared. "Then, if the steamer still persists in going in the opposite direction to the one I wish, I'll decline to have any more truck with her."

"She's turning," exclaimed d.i.c.k. "She's ported her helm."