The Great Airship Part 5

"Stand by there! Get hold of that light, Seaton, and let's see what's the damage. Stand by there, men. This looks like a bad business."

d.i.c.ky did not plunge into hysterics. On the contrary he was as cool as one could possibly have wished. That the matter was serious he guessed at once, though his inexperience left him doubting what had actually happened. However, the rapidly rising water within the pinnace, the fact that he already stood knee deep himself, went a long way to convince him that his little command had met with an unfortunate accident. But he was hardly prepared for the amazing swiftness of its termination. Hardly had one of his men seized the light for'ard and held it aloft when, as if that was the prearranged signal, the pinnace filled, waves washed in over the gunwale while clouds of steam were shot from the furnace. Then, with a heave and a wriggle and an almost audible sob the pinnace shot away from beneath the feet of the crew who had manned her. Perhaps one half-minute later d.i.c.ky's head appeared from beneath the water which had submerged him. He opened his mouth and shouted:

"Stand by there, men! There's wreckage here. Hold on to it."

"Aye, aye, sir," came from Hawkins, his deep tones easily recognizable.

"Now, lads, answer to your names as I call 'em. Hurst."

"Here, sir."

"Perkins."

"Here, sir."

The answer was given with a gulp. Perkins was endeavouring to eject the volume of water which he had so recently swallowed.

"Seaton, Carew, Tomkins."

"Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!" came with varying degrees of quickness, and for the most part in distinctly gasping fashion.

"All present and aboard, sir," cried Hawkins, using that formula by force of habit. "All clinging tight, sir."

"But to what? And there's that shout again. This is getting beyond me,"

declared the youthful d.i.c.ky, not in despondent tones it must be declared, for never was there a lighter-hearted nor more courageous individual. But in a manner which showed that the speaker was sorely puzzled. No wonder, too, for that elusive call sounded now as if it came from the sky again. It made the bulky Hurst actually tremble. He was shivering already, for the water was cold, and this sudden immersion was no joke under the circ.u.mstances. But now that call, three times repeated, sent a cold shiver down his back, as if someone had suddenly added a huge block of ice to the water.

"I'm jiggered," he stuttered, his strong teeth chattering. "From away up aloft. Why, there's a man here, sir, tied up to this here wreckage."

It was too dark to see more than an inch in front of one's nose, but Hurst could feel, and rapidly ran his fingers over the form of a man supported on the wreckage to which he and his companions were clinging.

Was that wreckage the remains of a boat? Undoubtedly no. Then what was it? Both Hawkins and Hurst endeavoured to elucidate what had become a mystery. They ran their hands far and wide over spars and timber. They stretched as far as they were able, while d.i.c.ky Hamshaw did likewise, puzzled beyond expression by the strangeness of his immediate surroundings. And then that far-away cry again fell on his ear.

"Silence, men," he commanded, in his most peremptory manner. "Now, give 'em a call--all together!"

The bellow which the half-submerged members of the crew sent out must have penetrated some considerable distance. They waited for an answering cry, and then were more completely bewildered. For of a sudden the darkness overhead was split in twain by a beam of brilliant light, which shot from a point far above them, a point so brilliant that they dared not gaze at it. A moment before they were struggling in the water surrounded by the densest darkness. Now, they and a huge circle about them were brilliantly illuminated, showing seven forlorn figures bobbing in the ocean about a ma.s.s of wreckage of curious formation secured to which was the body of a man more forlorn than themselves. d.i.c.ky Hamshaw wondered whether he were dreaming. He stretched out a hand and pulled at the sleeve of that unconscious figure. And then he gazed aloft, wondering from whence that light came, who could have cast it upon them, and what manner of ship it was that floated there, invisible and stationary yet a ship for all that; for a man or men were aboard it.

Cries had come from that direction, while their own shouts had been followed by the sudden jet of light which now played about them. Was he dreaming indeed? or could that actually be the figure of a man descending through the very centre of the beam towards them, descending at a speed which made him giddy, treading steps which there was no seeing?

"Jingo!" he gasped. "This is getting too hot for anything. Why--why, the man's on a rope. Now, what in the d.i.c.kens supports him?"

What indeed? Not one of the men clinging to that strange wreckage in the water illuminated so wonderfully could guess to what cla.s.s of vessel that rope could be attached. For nothing was visible aloft save that one penetrating eye, that brilliant orb which shot down upon them its dazzling beams. Hurst shivered yet again. Even Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw was decidedly disconcerted and nonplussed by the uncanniness of the situation. For that man, dangling from a rope, turning like a spider hanging by a single thread, and swaying from side to side as the wind caught him, appeared to be supported by nothing in particular. And yet he was descending towards them at an amazing rate, and that too with no effort on his own part. Someone above must be paying out the rope to which he was attached. But who? Where was the spot from which he had started? What sort of vessel hovered aloft?

"I'm hanged," ventured d.i.c.ky.

"It's just the queerest thing as ever I seed, sir," admitted Hawkins.

"But there's one thing I'm sure of. This here wreckage is what's left of a waterplane. See there--one of the floats is on the top of the water.

There's generally two, so one can guess that the other's foundered, and if it wasn't for this here one the whole affair would have sunk. It's lucky for us and lucky for the man here. French, sir."

"Yes," agreed the young officer. "Looks it. Hallo!"

His last exclamation had been drawn from him by the sudden discovery that the man at the end of that strange rope was now within a matter of ten feet of him, swaying just overhead. In fact, in those few seconds during which d.i.c.ky had turned to inspect the wreckage to which he was clinging, the newcomer, descending as it were from the sky, had dropped to within speaking distance. Who was he? Of what nationality?

"Ahoy!" shouted d.i.c.ky, nothing daunted. "Where do you come from?"

A face looked down upon him, a face cast into shadow by that brilliant beam from above, and yet distinguishable to some extent by reason of the reflection from the water. It was a bearded face, that of a man in his early prime, strong, reliant, and dauntless, and bearing an expression familiar to the young officer. Did he know this man? Impossible.

"Who's that?" came in stentorian tones.

"Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw, sir," bellowed Hawkins, taking upon himself to answer; "he and the crew of the steam pinnace away from the Solent.

We've struck against the wreck of a waterplane, and the pinnace has foundered."

"All present, I hope?"

"Aye, aye, sir!" shouted d.i.c.ky, for without a doubt the man above was a naval officer. He had the cut of a nautical man from head to foot, while whoever saw a man hang so comfortably in midair at the end of but a single rope but a sailor?

"And you can stick tight for a while?"

"Certainly," answered d.i.c.ky.

"Then hang on; I'll be down again in a minute."

The man waved his hand. There came a cry from far up aloft, and then the dangling figure was whisked upward at express speed, for all the world as if he were seated in an elevator going aloft in a New York skysc.r.a.per.

"I'm jiggered!" gasped Hurst, silenced up till now by the novelty of the situation. "Why, look what's coming."

Down through the very centre of the beam, appearing once more to have actually no point of support, there dropped a wide platform, over one edge of which a man's head protruded. At lightning speed it fell towards the wreckage, halting abruptly within two feet of the water as the man signalled. Then it dropped a few inches lower, while a hand was stretched out to Hawkins.

"Come aboard," that same cheerful, brisk voice commanded. "Where's the officer?"

"Here, sir," shouted d.i.c.ky.

"How many men are you responsible for?"

"Six, sir; and this fellow lashed to the wreckage."

"Good! Then we'll soon finish this business. Now, on you come."

Very rapidly was the crew of the pinnace transferred to this strange platform, and following them the unconscious figure of the man they had come out to rescue.

"Hold tight!" came the order.

"Tight it is, sir," responded Hawkins.

"Then hoist."

The stranger signalled. d.i.c.ky felt the platform move upward. Then it shot towards the sky, while of a sudden the beam died out, leaving them all in darkness. It sent a chill down his back. Even the jovial and careless midshipman was impressed by the uncouthness of this adventure.

Where was this stranger bearing them? What was to be the end of this amazing rescue?

CHAPTER IV