The Rival Submarines Part 22

"Then for goodness' sake hurry up!" replied the chief officer.

Hythe found Kenwyn staring out of the scuttle at nothing. It was so pitch dark that without the conning-tower everything seemed an impenetrable ma.s.s of darkness--sea and sky a chaos of invisibility. All the while the submarine was pitching and tossing like an empty barrel.

"That you, Mr. Hythe," exclaimed the second officer, unmistakably glad to have some one to speak to. "Isn't this a set-to? I don't know what can be happening."

Just then a brilliant flash of lightning played upon the turmoil of broken water without. In the pale-blue glare it seemed as if the surface of the angry sea was one expanse of tall, steep waves--an exaggerated tidal race.

"Ah, that's better," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Hythe, as the hiss of incoming water could be faintly distinguished above the hammering of the waves against the "Aphrodite's" sides and upon her deck. "We're diving once more."

At twelve fathoms the motion, though still erratic, became less marked, and the condition of things was vastly improved when the electric light was once more connected up.

Every available search-light was switched on, and as the powerful beams were directed through the scuttles Hythe and Kenwyn gave a simultaneous exclamation of surprise. Eddying through the water as far as the rays of light could penetrate were columns of smoke mingled with bubbles full of gaseous vapour. Now and again dark ma.s.ses would shoot upwards with the velocity of a meteor.

"A submarine eruption, by Jove!" declared Hythe. "We're over the mouth of a submerged crater. That accounts for the earthquake shocks in Malta and elsewhere. Those black objects we see whizzing by must be lumps of lava."

Kenwyn placed his hand upon the side of the conning-tower. The metal felt quite warm to his touch. The thermometer registered eighty-five degrees.

"We'll be boiled alive if this lasts," he exclaimed. "The sea must be quite hot. Ah! that's better," he added, as the propellers began to revolve. "We ought to get out of this natural saucepan as soon as possible."

Just then Captain Restronguet's voice was heard at the telephone inquiring if Mr. Hythe were in the conning-tower.

"He is, sir," replied Kenwyn.

"Ask him to step this way. The watertight doors are now open."

"Have you noticed the sudden rise of temperature, Mr. Hythe?" asked the captain when the sub reached the fore conning-tower. "You have? I thought you would. We've had a most unusual experience; we have pa.s.sed almost over the mouth of a submarine volcano at the moment of an eruption. The 'Aphrodite' was almost drawn into the vortex caused by the rush of water to fill the cavity formed by the expelled lava from the crater."

"I wonder if another island has been created, sir?"

"If there has been the 'Aphrodite' has narrowly escaped being left high and dry upon it, Mr. Hythe. It was in the last century that an island suddenly appeared almost in this lat.i.tude and longitude. The British, I believe, claimed it and so did the Italians; but before the question of ownership was decided the island settled the matter by disappearing.

If----"

"Look ahead, sir!" exclaimed the quartermaster in horrified tones.

The water was now slightly less smoke-laden, and the two for'ard search-lights made a tolerable clear path for nearly a hundred yards ahead. Into that double ray of light came the hull of a sinking vessel.

It was sinking stern foremost with a slight list to starboard. Hythe recognized the type of craft, a Sicilian fishing-boat. Her mast had snapped off about three feet above the deck, while her lateen sail, extended by the upward tendency of the wooden yard was almost as rigid as a sheet of metal. Lashed to the tiller was the helmsman--a dark-skinned, curly-haired Italian. The sub could even distinguish his gold ear-rings. The poor fellow was still struggling desperately yet aimlessly, for he made no effort to cast off the rope that bound him to his post of duty. His hands clutched wildly at the yielding water.

Amidships were two other men, similarly secured, but they were evidently already drowned since they were making no attempt to save themselves.

But for a brief instant did the distressing vision last, for with a quick movement the quartermaster placed the helm hard over, the "Aphrodite" swerved, and the parallel beams shone upon a waste of unbroken water.

Captain Restronguet muttered something under his breath.

"Can nothing be done to save them?" asked Hythe.

The captain shook his head.

"Nothing," he replied deliberately. "Nothing. Had there been a ghost of a chance we would have taken the risk."

For several moments the occupants of the conning-tower stood in silence, gazing fixedly at the chaos of water before their eyes. By this time the "Aphrodite" had pa.s.sed the influence of the eruption, for she no longer rolled and plunged on her submarine course.

"The danger is now over, Mr. Hythe," said Captain Restronguet at length.

"Perhaps you would care to resume your bed? I am afraid that everything is in a fearful mess 'tween decks, though."

"It is lucky for us it is no worse, sir. For the moment I----"

A dull thud upon the deck of the submarine caused the sub's remarks to remain incompleted. The shock literally caused the "Aphrodite" to reel.

"Bring her up, sir, bring her up!" exclaimed Devoran's voice at the telephone. Captain Restronguet did not wait for an explanation.

Ordering the quartermaster to trim the horizontal rudders he himself pressed the lever controlling the emergency ballast tanks. Up rose the submarine, though not with her accustomed rapidity, and soon she was pounding sluggishly in the still agitated sea that swept her fore and aft and washed over on all sides.

"A craft of sorts has foundered right on top of us, sir," continued the chief officer. "There are men still alive in her--or, at least, I fancy so."

Captain Restronguet and Hythe waited to hear no more. Leaving the conning-tower in charge of the quartermaster they rushed off to where Devoran was stationed. The fore-scuttle of the rearward conning-tower was obstructed by the bulky quivering hull of a large fishing-vessel.

She was lying on her port bilges, her keel being wedged in between the deck and the base of the conning-tower, but so insecure was her balance that every movement of the "Aphrodite" in the furious sea threatened to slide her once more into the depths.

"Are the men still there?" asked Captain Restronguet.

"They were, sir, when she settled on our deck."

The sound of the concussion had brought the rest of the crew aft, and in a crowd they stood at the foot of the steps leading to the tower. The captain leant over the circular aperture and hailed them.

"Men," said he, "who will take the risk and venture outside?"

A dozen voices replied in the affirmative, even that of Gwennap, the non-swimmer.

"You, Polglaze, and you, Lancarrow. A couple of life-lines there, and two men to tend them."

Quickly Polglaze and Lancarrow sprang up the ladder and entered the conning-tower.

"There's a boat or small craft lying across our deck," explained Captain Restronguet. "I believe there are some of her crew still aboard. I want you to investigate, and should there be any men bring them back."

Deftly the two members of the "Aphrodite's" crew secured the life-lines round their waists. Devoran unlocked the lid of the aperture in the conning-tower. As the hatch opened a wave burst through, flooding the floor to a depth of two inches--the height of the coaming round the trap-door leading to the Number Two Platform. Before a second wave had time to add to the mischief already Polglaze and Lancarrow were battling their way up the shelving, slippery sides of the stranded vessel. To gain her deck there were no other means, for her keel extended far beyond the side of the submarine. Twice Lancarrow slipped, but aided by his companion, who was already astride the fishing-boat's shattered bulwarks he succeeded in scaling the wall of wood.

Just then a heavy sea came inboard. The wrecked craft rocked, seemed on the point of lurching once more into the depths, when a correcting heel of the "Aphrodite" saved the situation and the lives of the two heroes.

Peering through the almost closed hatch Devoran and Hythe saw Polglaze slide down the boat's hull, grasping what looked like a bundle of clothing in his arms.

"Keep a strain on the life-line," ordered the chief officer. "Smartly now--haul away."

Another sea flooded the deck and swirled past the base of the conning-tower. The strain on Polglaze's life-line was enormous, but fortunately the rope was a sound one. As the smother of foam subsided Polglaze's face appeared at the almost closed hatchway.

"Here you are, sir," he exclaimed breathlessly. Hythe and the first officer instantly opened the lid, and the bundle--the body of a boy about ten years of age--was thrust into their arms. Ere another wave hurled itself upon the rescuer Polglaze was safe within the conning-tower.

And now Lancarrow's burly form appeared sitting astride the fishing-craft's bulwarks. He evidently had a weightier burden, for in spite of his efforts the powerful Cornishman could not at first raise it clear of the sides. Thrice he essayed the task and the third time was successful. His burden was the _padrone_ or master of the wrecked craft.

Just then a formidable sea, higher than the rest, came hissing and foaming down upon the submarine. Lancarrow with his back turned to it was unaware of the danger, but both Hythe and Devoran saw it and shouted a warning. Their voices were drowned in the howling and shrieking of the gale.

With a smother of hissing foam the wave burst. Lancarrow, still grasping his burden, was hurled from the bulwarks and thrown upon the "Aphrodite's" deck. The same wave sent the fishing-boat back into the depths, thus depriving Lancarrow of the slight shelter hitherto afforded by the hull, and hurled him across the slippery deck. Fortunately he was not stunned by the impact and did not relinquish his hold of the man he had rescued, while the life-line saved both from being washed overboard.