The Rival Submarines Part 38

Restronguet coats, hats, and boots were all the rage; in fact the name Restronguet applied to any article ensured it a ready sale. The nation was Restronguet mad.

But the captain of the "Aphrodite" was not a man to have his head turned by fatuous hero-worship. He knew perfectly well that in the course of a few years his name would be a mere byword. Reports of his popularity had been transmitted to him by his agents. He merely shrugged his shoulders, and impressed upon the wireless operator who received the messages to maintain a strict reticence as to their nature. He had a mission to perform, and he meant to accomplish it. Thus, with ill-concealed impatience he waited and waited till, with his crew, he became heartily sick of the sight of First Bluff Point and the forbidding bar of the mighty Zambezi.

On the morning of the twenty-ninth day of the "Aphrodite's" detention a native boat, manned by half a dozen blacks, was observed to have managed to cross the bar and was bearing down towards the vessel. In the stern was a European, a sallow-faced man dressed in dirty white clothes and a broad sun-hat.

As soon as the boat came alongside the bowman dexterously threw a rope, and when this was made fast the white man, without waiting for an accommodation ladder to be shipped, swarmed up on deck.

"Me pilot," he explained, with a deep bow and a flourish of his hat.

"Me pilot 'pointed by Republic. Me take you in."

"Is it safe to cross the bar?" asked Captain Restronguet eagerly.

"Yes, senhor; me take you in for so many milreis," and he held up the fingers of both hands four times.

It was a matter of nearly nine pounds--thrice the amount the Portuguese expected to receive. It was part of his nature to make allowances for being beaten down.

"I'll make it gold to the value of eighty milreis if you put me inside the bar to-night," said Captain Restronguet.

"Me take you up to Marromea--that am de port--for dat," exclaimed the pilot gleefully. "How much you draw?"

"Twelve feet," replied Captain Restronguet.

The Portuguese had no need to make a calculation to arrive at the depth in "bracas," since the British fathom is almost identical with the Portuguese "braca."

"Too ver' much," he exclaimed, shaking his head.

"I can reduce it to seven feet."

"How can do? You no throw cargo oberboard?" asked the astonished Portuguese.

Without replying, Captain Restronguet gave an order for the emergency tanks to be emptied, and still greater was the pilot's amazement to find the vessel rising higher and higher out of the water.

Suddenly it occurred to his slow-witted brain that the craft he had boarded was a submarine, and since the only submarine he had heard of was the "Vorwartz," that had made the pa.s.sage under cover of night, he came to the startling conclusion that he had boarded the pirate vessel.

His olivine features turned a sickly yellow till there was hardly any contrast between his face and the whites of his eyes, and turning, he made a rush for the side.

"Steady, my worthy friend!" exclaimed Captain Restronguet, as Devoran and Kenwyn caught the Portuguese by the shoulders. "A contract is a contract. You've got to pilot my vessel over the bar."

"Mercy, senhor!" whined the fellow falling on his knees.

"Get up, you idiot!" said Captain Restronguet sharply, but all to no purpose; the pilot maintained his entreaties at the top of his voice.

"I believe he imagines he's on board the 'Vorwartz'," suggested Hythe.

"Perhaps," agreed the captain, then addressing the pilot he told him that he was in no danger, and that he was on the "Aphrodite."

But the man was so terrified that the words fell on deaf ears. His terror was increased by a sudden commotion over the side as his native crew, hearing the cries of their master, took their paddles and made off for the sh.o.r.e as hard as they could urge their c.u.mbersome craft.

At last Captain Restronguet became out of patience with the craven pilot. At a sign from him Devoran whisked the Portuguese to his feet and led him for'ard. Here he again collapsed, grovelling on the deck.

It was now nearly high water, and unless something were done another delay of twelve hours at least--possibly of days--would necessarily ensue.

Drawing his automatic pistol he clapped the muzzle to the pilot's temple. The touch of cold steel did what words had failed to do.

Abject terror was banished by the stern menace of that small yet powerful weapon.

"No shoot, senhor capitan!" howled the wretched man. "Me take you ober: no shoot."

Captain Restronguet replaced his pistol, the pilot, still shaking, stood in front of the helmsman in the fore-conning-tower and directed him by movements of his hand. Four minutes sufficed to bring the "Aphrodite,"

rolling like a barrel, through the agitated water on the bar, and thus after nearly a month of inaction the avenging submarine floated in the turgid waters of the broad Zambezi.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

IN THE BALLAST TANK.

At Marromea Captain Restronguet paid the pilot, who was taken ash.o.r.e in a native boat. The Portuguese, as soon as he received his money and found that he had not been harmed, became quite enthusiastic over the generous "Ingles," and vowed that, whatever other work he had in hand, he would await the "Aphrodite" on her return. "If the senhors ever come back," he added darkly, for he knew the effect of the pestilential climate upon unseasoned Europeans.

Marromea, where the Portuguese once had a fairly prosperous trading station, had fallen into decay. Fever had decimated the inhabitants, the railway, intended to fellow the course of the river and effect a junction with the Cape to Cairo line at Victoria Falls, had been abandoned. Long gra.s.s and tropical foliage had already hidden the melancholy remains from view.

There were scarcely thirty Portuguese in the place; the others were natives who, being partly civilized, were infinitely greater scoundrels than their unenlightened brethren. Of the thirty Portuguese, two-thirds of the number were Government officials, and with the idea of displaying their powers, threw every obstacle in Captain Restronguet's way. Dues were demanded and paid, then a peremptory request to be shown the ship's papers--doc.u.ments that the "Aphrodite" did not possess.

Fortunately Hythe had a sheet of printed matter that he had brought off at Gibraltar with his purchases, and this was duly presented. After a lengthy scrutiny the officials returned it, saying the papers were quite in order but forty milreis must be paid to _vise_ them.

"I'll see you to Jericho, first!" exclaimed Captain Restronguet wrathfully, and ordering his men to arm themselves he paraded them on deck as a gentle hint to the mercenary representatives of the Portuguese Republic.

If they knew of the presence of the "Vorwartz" in the river the authorities would not admit it; they refused to allow the telegraph to be made use of to communicate with the trading stations up-stream, and resolutely declined to provide a pilot for the navigation of the shoal-enc.u.mbered reaches as far as Kaira--a hundred miles above Marromea.

At last Captain Restronguet resolved to take stern measures. He was ready to abide by the usual customs of a foreign country, but he was not going to be fooled by a pack of rascally Portuguese.

"Clear for diving, Mr. Devoran!" he shouted.

The Portuguese officials, filled with curiosity, lined the edge of the wharf, talking volubly amongst themselves, while to show their contempt towards the foreign craft they amused themselves by throwing cigarette ends upon her deserted deck.

Down below the crew tumbled; hatches were secured, and the ballast tanks flooded. The "Aphrodite," made fast bow and stern to the wharf by the hempen hawsers, sank till her deck was only a few inches above the water. It was now just after high water, and there was a depth of forty feet alongside the quay.

Then with a jerk the strain on the ropes began to tell, a large portion of the crumbling quay was destroyed and tumbled into the river. Down sank the submarine till the tops of her conning-towers were fifteen feet beneath the surface. She was resting on the bottom of the river.

"Man the aerial torpedo tube, Mr. Kenwyn," ordered the captain. "Give them a sixteen pounds charge."

With a whizz and a roar the projectile leapt through the water and soared four hundred feet in the air. There it burst, the concussion shaking every miserable hovel in Marromea to its foundations. When the "Aphrodite" returned to the surface the quay was deserted; the terrified officials, suffering with injured ear-drums, were skulking in the bush.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WITH A WHIZZ AND A ROAR THE PROJECTILE LEAPT THROUGH THE WATER."]

"Ah, that is what we want," remarked Captain Restronguet, pointing to a ship's whaler lying on the quay. "Under the circ.u.mstances, considering how extortionately we have been charged, I have no qualms in annexing yon craft."

The whaler was a heavy one, but a dozen men soon brought her on board.

This done the "Aphrodite" cautiously made her way upstream, for mudbanks and shoals abounded, and only by the frequent use of the lead was the submarine, running light, able to keep to the main channel.