The Secret Service Submarine Part 19

"Look here, you Karl, or whatever you call yourself, you're a spy!"

There was a torrent of expostulation. "No, sir, not a spy; I never was that. I was a reservist in our Navy. I was called out and I had to go.

I'm a prisoner of war, sir, that's what I am."

My brother shook his head. "You can't prove that," he said, "and the circ.u.mstances are most suspicious. I spared you last night, thinking you might be useful, and you certainly made some very good coffee this morning. But I've come to the conclusion ..."--he lifted the pistol.

I had had my brother's word for it that Karl was an excellent head-waiter. My own observations showed me that he was a coward, for he fell on his knees and tears began to stream from his eyes. My brother spat over the side in disgust and I kicked the fellow up to attention again.

"Well, I'll give you one more chance before shooting you out of hand.

You must come down with me and translate the German in the Flag Signal Book. You must tell me all you know about the plans of your late commander. Then, if you make us a good breakfast--I thought I saw some tinned sausages and some marmalade in your rack--I may possibly not shoot you, though I shall tie you up when we go into action. At any rate, you will have the same chance as the rest of us."

The fellow's grat.i.tude was painful to see. He was all smiles and obsequiousness at once, and so that little matter was concluded satisfactorily.

We had our breakfast, and an excellent one it was, all sharing alike.

Afterwards I went up on deck with the d.i.c.ksons.

We saw the sails of two trawlers a mile away on the port bow, but save for them the sea was deserted. The boys were in high spirits. Not a thought of what was to come troubled them for a moment. "Just think, sir," said d.i.c.kson max., "what a bit of luck to be in for a rag like this!" But I won't recount any more of their joyous prattle. It was real enough. They had not a trace of fear, but underlying everything there was a deep seriousness that had made them men in a few short hours.

For two hours I worked hard with Bosustow at the engines. There was lots to do. The gauges of the petrol tanks needed attention. There were many details which would only interest an engineer were I to recount them.

At a quarter to twelve I went forward with my brother. We were still on the surface--heading fast for our destination--and saw the port and starboard torpedo tubes loaded. It was astonishing how the d.i.c.ksons had picked up something of their work, and Bernard was very pleased.

At twelve we lunched and a tot of rum was served out to the three sailors. Everything was now ship-shape. We were all dressed in uniforms of the dead crew. We tied up Karl and lashed him securely in his galley.

Then, Adams being at the wheel in the lower portion of the conning-tower, my brother a.s.sembled us aft, by the clanging petrol engines.

"In ten minutes," he said, "I shall sound 'Prepare for action,' and from that time onwards you will be at your posts. I believe we are going to surprise the Germans and surprise the whole world. I believe we are going to save England from this raid. But we've got to remember that we may not pull it off. I am very pleased, more than pleased, with all you have done. I never want to command a better crew. It is the best scratch crew in naval history. We are only seven and we ought to be fifteen, but that does not matter. We have shown it does not matter, already. Now before we get to quarters I think we ought to remember what day this is.

It happens to be Sunday."

I am ashamed to say we all looked up in surprise, but so it was.

"Well," my brother continued, "by good luck, I happen to have a prayer-book in my pocket and I am going to read a bit of the service and the ninety-first psalm."

Very straight and stiff, he pulled out a battered little book and began.

This is not a scene I wish to linger on, but you will understand my reasons.

After the last sonorous Amen, Bernard said:

"Well, we've said our prayers and we've thought of our wives and--and of our girls. That is all I have got to say."

He nodded to Scarlett and a shrill whistle--the trumpet of the Navy--rang and rattled through the tube.

The two boys and Scarlett went forward to the torpedoes. Adams was called down from the steering wheel to a.s.sist Bosustow at the engines.

My brother ordered me up into the conning-tower by his side.

"You'll be of more help to me here," he said. "I shall control the ship entirely myself, but I may want your a.s.sistance. Watch me carefully in case I have to go below at any moment."

At twelve-thirty precisely, the gasolene engines were stopped. Bernard filled the tanks, slightly deflected the horizontal rudders, and we dived into the smooth, green wall of an approaching swell and sank to ten feet. The light was switched off, the periscope rose, and we bent over the white table, white no longer.

At five minutes to one the picture of the empty sea was altered. Our range of vision was about two miles, and at that distance to the north-east we observed a cloud of smoke upon the horizon.

"There she is!" I said, and put my finger upon the rapidly growing smear.

Within twenty minutes, a large battleship raised her hull, making directly towards us. We altered our course a little, and as we swerved I could see she had four funnels which grew larger every moment. Of her accompanying flotilla and of the transports we could see nothing at all.

Then we rose to the surface.

Our short-handedness became apparent at once. Adams had to be called from the engines to stand at the wheel. Scarlett and my brother went on deck as I was useless at the manipulation of flags. It was a critical moment.

"I am determined to take no chances," Bernard said; "that is why I am risking signalling. We could probably get her without showing at all, but as she expects us and will lay to for us, we can make it absolutely certain."

He had the signal book, over which he had pencilled translations of the German, in his hand.

"That flag, Scarlett--'wireless out of order,' it means."

That flag ran up a steel halliard bent to the top of the conning-tower.

"Ah, they see us!"

Scarcely three-quarters of a mile away, the great battleship was moving at a snail's pace. Her decks were crowded with men--in the clear sunlight I could see every detail. A piece of bunting ran up her mast in a ball and opened to the breeze.

"I'm d.a.m.ned if I know what it means, but it's obviously all right. Now then, Scarlett, the black flag with the white stripe. That means 'am successfully bringing despatches'--got it?--good!"

There was another signal from the battleship, to which we had now approached within half a mile. The smoke from her funnels had almost ceased. She was lying to and waiting.

Slowly we forged onwards. Then came a sharp order. We jumped back into the conning-tower and the sliding hatchway closed. Scarlett had gone like a flash to his torpedo tubes, and we dived. We sank in just a hundred and fifty seconds.

"Good!" said Bernard, as the periscope panted up and the battleship lay on the table before us.

The hum and tick of the electric motors began again. Bernard turned his wheel and the picture of the battleship opened out in full broadside.

"They don't know what to make of it," he remarked, to himself, rather than to me. "Now, I think--steady--steady ..."

The ship grew larger every moment, higher and higher. It seemed as if she was rising out of the water.

"Now!"--he leant over a speaking tube.

He had hardly given his order when a bell rang smartly, close by my head. I heard staccato voices below in the bows of the submarine, and then the clang and swish of the discharge. We were only three hundred yards away. A white streak appeared shooting towards the monster, like a spear of foam. It was so quick that I could hardly have followed it with my finger upon the table.

CHAPTER XI

THE SUBMARINE FIGHTS FOR ENGLAND

Can you imagine a narrow belt of foam, rushing over the sea like a live thing with irresistible and sinister suggestion of _something_ terrible below? That is what I saw as I stared down at the toy theatre, the little, coloured microcosm.