Читать книгу The Rival Submarines - Percy Francis Westerman - Страница 4

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"Pipe away the diving-party!"

H.M.S. "Ramillies," the flagship of the First Battle Squadron of the Home Fleet, had just anchored in almost the identical position that she had occupied barely a quarter of an hour previously. With mathematical precision the other battleships of the squadron had also returned to their late anchorage and were preparing to investigate the mysterious occurrence in the shape of a complimentary message from the still more mysterious Captain Restronguet.

Up from below tumbled the diving-party. Air-pipes, life-lines, pumps, dresses, and helmets were produced from some remote yet properly apportioned part of the ship and were thrown down in a seemingly chaotic manner upon the steel deck. Actuated by electric power several sections of the armoured shields between the upper deck and the eaves of the V-shaped shell-proof roof were lowered till they lay flat upon the deck, and steel ladders for the divers' use were rapidly placed in position.

"Do you wish me to go down, sir?" asked a sub-lieutenant of the Number One.

"Certainly, Mr. Hythe," replied the first lieutenant. "Make a careful examination for a radius of say fifty yards from the shot-rope. You will doubtless be able to see the place where the flukes of our anchor held before. Ascertain if there are any traces of independent work; such as footprints in the ooze, tracks of the underbody of a submarine settling on the bottom, for example."

"Very good, sir," replied the sub, who, saluting, went off to be assisted into his diving-dress.

Sub-lieutenant Arnold Hythe was generally regarded as a smart and promising young officer. These golden opinions were gained not by self-advertisement, for the sub was unusually reticent concerning his profession, but by sheer hard work and a consistent application to that great deity that should always be before the eyes of all true subjects of the King--Duty.

He held a First-class certificate in Seamanship, Gunnery, and Engineering; a Second in Torpedo, and also in what the Navy List terms "Voluntary Subjects"; he was a qualified interpreter in French and German, and had more than a smattering of Spanish and Italian. In addition to these intellectual qualifications he possessed a powerful physique, and had a sound reputation as an all-round athlete whilst at Dartmouth.

The latter portion of his time as midshipman and the first few months after his promotion to sub-lieutenant were spent in duty with the Fifth Submarine Flotilla, whose base was at Fort Blockhouse at the entrance of Portsmouth Harbour. But through some cause, to him quite inexplicable, he had been appointed to the "Ramillies." This was somewhat to the sub's disgust, but realizing that it was of no use repining over such matters, Arnold Hythe accepted the change with cheerful alacrity.

Banks and Moy, the two seamen divers who were also to descend, were already dressed. All that remained was for their copper helmets to be donned, the telephones and air-tubes adjusted, and the glass fronts screwed on.

"I don't expect you will find any actual evidence, and it will be lucky if you come across any circumstantial evidence," remarked Mr. Watterley, the first lieutenant. "But in any case, should you see anything of a suspicious nature, inform us before proceeding to investigate. I need not remind you that the east-going tide is making, and that the current will be running fairly strong in a few minutes."

"Very good, sir."

Sub-lieutenant Hythe was a diver of considerable experience. Ever since his first descent in the training tank at Whale Island he took naturally to the hazardous duty. Going under the sea had a peculiar fascination for him, whether it was in the hull of a submarine or encased in the cumbersome india-rubber suit and ponderous helmet of the diver.

The men at the air-pumps began slowly to turn the handles. The glass front plates of the sub's helmet were secured, and assisted by a seaman Hythe staggered awkwardly towards the head of the iron ladder.

Rung by rung he descended till the water rose to his shoulders.

"By Jove, the tide does run," he muttered. "If it's like this now, what will it be in another ten minutes?"

Raising one arm he waved to those on deck, then releasing his hold he allowed himself to drop into the deep. The "Ramillies" was anchored in nine fathoms, but ere the sub reached bottom nearly a hundred and twenty feet of life-line and air-tube were paid out. With an effort he gained his footing and commenced to walk in the direction of the ship's anchor, battling against the two-knot current that swirled past him.

Although the sun was shining brightly and the light at that depth ought to be fairly strong, the sand and mud churned up by the tidal current made it impossible to see beyond a few yards. With nothing to guide him, for the life-line was quivering in the swirling water, Hythe struggled stolidly in the supposed direction. He realized that he was practically on a fool's errand. The mysterious person or agency who had been responsible for attaching the message to the anchors of the squadron was not likely to remain upon the scene of his exploit, while already all the sought-for traces must have been obliterated by the tide.

Presently two eerie-looking shapes ambled towards him. They were his companions, Banks and Moy.

"Well, if I am going in the wrong direction, those fellows are making the same mistake," thought the sub. "So here goes."

Another thirty yards were laboriously covered. Here and there the divers had to make a detour to avoid the wavy trailing masses of seaweed, that, if not actually dangerous, would seriously impede their progress, while at every few steps numbers of flatfish, barely discernible from the sand and mud in which they were partially buried, would dart off with the utmost rapidity.

"Thank goodness, here's the shot-line," exclaimed the sub, as a thin rope, magnified under water to the size of a man's wrist, became visible in the semi-gloom. The shot-line, terminating in a heavy piece of lead, had previously been lowered to serve as a guide for the divers to work from.

Pointing in two opposite directions Hythe signed to the two men to begin their investigations, while he, taking a route that lay at right angles to the others' course, began once more to struggle against the current. Ere he had traversed another ten yards his feet slipped into a slight depression. It was the hole scooped out by the flukes of the "Ramillies'" stockless anchor.

"Could do with a lamp," he remarked to himself, then stooping he began to examine the bed of mud and sand in which he stood. Beyond the almost filled-in cavity and the faint traces of the sweep of the battleship's anchor-chain there was nothing to attract his attention. He turned to look at his own footprints. They were already practically obliterated, so it was hopeless to expect to find the footprints of the mysterious diver or divers who had contrived to visit each of the anchors of the battleships in turn.

"Anything to report?" asked a voice through the telephone.

"No, sir," replied the sub.

"Thought as much," said Watterley. "Merely a matter of form. You may as well come up. I'll recall the two men."

Sub-Lieutenant Hythe was not sorry to hear the order to return. Had there been any possibility of success he would have prosecuted his investigations with alacrity, but Spithead with an east-going spring tide running is no place to indulge in submarine excursions. The danger of getting life-line and air-tube foul of some unseen obstruction was no slight one.

"THE NEXT INSTANT HE FELT HIMSELF BEING HURLED VIOLENTLY BACKWARDS."

Hythe adjusted the valve of his helmet prior to giving the recognized number of tugs on the life-line--the signal to be hauled up. The next instant he felt himself being hurled violently backwards by a sudden and irresistible swirl of water. Within ten feet of him a huge, ill-defined mass of what appeared to be bright metal tore past. He was just conscious of a vision of one of a pair of propellers thrashing the muddy water and the object was lost to view.

"What a narrow squeak!" he growled angrily. "By Jove, I shouldn't be surprised if Banks is done for. It's a submarine, that I'll swear, but not one of ours. Ours are painted a dull grey and that seems to be a huge moving mirror."

In spite of his strong nerves, a mild panic overtook the sub. He signalled frantically to be drawn up, and to his relief he found himself alongside the battleship.

Grasping a line that was thrown him, Hythe hauled himself along till he reached the iron ladder. Here he clung, too excited to attempt to climb, until a seaman descended and assisted him up the side.

"What's up, Mr. Hythe? You look as if you'd seen a ghost," exclaimed the Number One, as the front plate of the sub-lieutenant's helmet was removed.

"Are Banks and Moy safe?" gasped the young officer.

"Safe? Of course they are," replied Lieutenant Watterley, giving a hasty glance over the side to where two distinct clusters of air-bubbles marked the progress of the divers. "What have you seen? But no, say nothing more at present. Wait till you're out of your dress, and you can report to the captain."

Arnold Hythe sat down on a bollard and attempted to collect his scattered thoughts, while his attendant proceeded to remove his helmet and leaden weights. Ere his india-rubber dress was stripped off Banks and Moy appeared over the side.

"Well?" demanded the first lieutenant laconically.

"Nothin' to report, sir," replied Banks, while his companion signified corroboration by a nod of his head.

Mr. Watterley looked inquiringly at the sub. The flush upon his face had vanished and his features were white with excitement. Several of the officers had come up and were engaged in plying Hythe with questions, to which the latter paid no attention. He was still in a kind of stupor, the result of a sudden shock to his nerves.

"Now then, Mr. Hythe--why, what's the matter with you? Here, I must send for the staff-surgeon; I must, by George!"

Assisted by two of his brother officers the sub was taken below, and in a very short space of time Doctor Hamworthy succeeded in bringing him to a more normal state.

Meanwhile Admiral Hobbes, hardly able to conceal his impatience beneath a cloak of official reserve, was engaged in animated conversation with Captain Warborough upon the eventful incidents that had necessitated the return of the Fleet to Spithead.

"Commander-in-Chief coming off, sir!" reported the lieutenant of the watch.

Tearing as hard as her sixty horse-power motors could drive her the Admiral's pinnace containing the Commander-in-Chief, the Admiral-Superintendent of the Dockyard, and the military Governor of the Fortress headed towards the "Ramillies."

Received with due ceremony and formality the officials came over the side, and on being welcomed by Vice-Admiral Hobbes were taken below to the latter's cabin.

"Well, Hobbes, what do you make of this business, eh?" asked Sir Peter Garboard. "Have you taken any steps to investigate?"

"Sent three divers down," replied the Vice-Admiral. "I am even now awaiting their report."

"Then the sooner the better," rejoined the Commander-in-Chief.

Admiral Hobbes touched a bell and a marine orderly entered the cabin.

"Pass the word for Mr. Watterley."

The marine orderly saluted and doubled along the half-deck, nearly bowling over the staff-surgeon and the first lieutenant who were already on their way to make their report to the captain.

"What's this? Mr. Hythe frightened by something he saw beneath the surface?" demanded Vice-Admiral Hobbes.

"No, sir," replied Doctor Hamworthy. "He is suffering from a shock to the nervous system; the symptoms are almost identical with those resulting from a severe electric shock."

"You don't mean to say that Mr. Hythe is the victim of a submarine discharge?"

"I do not assert, sir; I merely stated my opinion based upon observations."

"And how is he now?" asked the Vice-Admiral impatiently.

"Fairly fit; he could be judiciously cross-examined," replied the staff-surgeon. "But, unless absolutely necessary----"

"It is absolutely necessary," interposed Admiral Hobbes; then turning to the first lieutenant he continued:--

"And what were the other men doing? I understand that there were two seamen sent down. Were they injured?"

"They saw nothing unusual, sir," replied Mr. Watterley. "I subjected them to a strict examination. They walked in opposite directions from the shot-rope, athwart the tide, while Mr. Hythe went dead against the current. The water was very muddy. The men said they could see about ten yards in front of them. Banks, after the question was repeated, said he fancied he felt a cross-current that might have been the following-wave of a submerged vessel moving at high speed----"

"By the by," interposed Sir Peter Garboard. "I suppose you ascertained that none of our submarine flotilla were manoeuvring at Spithead?"

"Oh, no, sir; or rather, I mean yes, sir," replied the harassed lieutenant. "We signalled to Fort Blockhouse and in reply were informed that F 1, 3, 7, and 9 of the 2nd Flotilla went out at 7 this morning for exercise off the Nab. Those were the only submarines under way from this port. I also asked them to communicate with the Submarine Depots at Devonport, Dover, Sheerness, Harwich----"

"I hope you didn't give the reason, by Jove!" exclaimed Sir Peter vehemently. "If the papers get hold of the news there'll be a pretty rumpus."

"I shouldn't be surprised if the Press hasn't received more information than we have," remarked Rear-Admiral Maynebrace. "It passes my comprehension how they manage it. One thing, it's no use trying to hush the matter up. We cannot expect to muzzle nearly five thousand men."

"Wish to goodness I could!" snapped Sir Peter. Then addressing Mr. Watterley, he added: "Oh, first lieutenant, will you please send for Mr. Hythe, so that we can hear his version of the business."

Five minutes later Sub-Lieutenant Hythe was shown into the Admiral's cabin. The young officer was still pale. His iron nerves had received a severe shock, but thanks to Doctor Hamworthy's attentions he was able to pull himself together sufficiently to give a fairly full account of what had occurred.

"How would you describe the submarine that passed so close to you?" asked Captain Warborough.

"She was quite unlike any of our types, sir. I noticed she was almost wall-sided, with a very flat floor. Instead of tapering to a point fore and aft she had a straight stem and, I believe, a rounded stern, cut away so as to protect the propellers."

"How many propellers?"

"Two, I think, sir. I distinctly saw the starboard one revolving. The eddy from it prevented my seeing anything more."

"H'm. By the by, had she a conning-tower?"

"I could not see, sir. Her upper deck must have been quite twelve feet above my head."

"What colour was she painted?"

"That, sir, I can hardly describe. I can only liken the sides to a huge mirror that reflected objects without reflecting the sunlight at the same time. As it was I could only see that portion of her that passed immediately in front of me. I could not even give an estimate as to her length, or even the speed at which she was travelling."

"You were capsized, I believe. Did anything strike you?"

"An under-water wave, sir, hurled me backwards. Nothing actually struck me, but I felt a strange paralysing sensation in my limbs, so that I could not make my way back to the shot-rope. All I could do was to signal to be hauled up."

"Then how do you account for the fact that this submarine craft passed close to you, and yet was unseen by Banks who was farther from the ship than you were?"

"I regret, sir, I cannot hazard an opinion," replied the sub.

"That will do, Mr. Hythe," said the Commander-in-Chief, indicating that the interview was at an end.

"Oh, by the way, Doctor," he continued, after the sub had left the cabin, "I suppose you have no doubt that this young officer actually did see this submarine? Is it possible that he was the victim of a hallucination?"

"From Mr. Hythe's medical sheet, and from my personal knowledge of his physical and mental condition, I have every reason to reply in the negative to both your questions, sir."

"Well, well, gentlemen," exclaimed Sir Peter, "we have a great task in front of us, with very little data to work upon. We have reason to suppose that there is a mysterious submarine commanded by an equally mysterious Captain Restronguet--a name that suggests that the fellow is French. We have definite evidence that by some unknown means that Captain Restronguet is able to execute extensive and fairly intricate work, namely, fixing those painted boards to the fluke of the anchors of the Fleet. How it was done has to be proved, and it must be proved up to the hilt, for even though no hostile act has been committed it is quite evident that the ships at Spithead were quite at the mercy of this unknown submarine. As far as the safety of the Fleet at Spithead is concerned, you, my dear Hobbes, are responsible. I, for my part, must take due precautions to prevent this submarine from entering the harbour, and I venture to assert, gentlemen, that when our preparations are complete, this Captain Restronguet and his submarine will be neatly trapped."