Читать книгу The Rival Submarines - Percy Francis Westerman - Страница 7

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At 4 a.m. the "Investigator" arrived off the eastern arm of Plymouth Breakwater, whence she signalled to Devonport Dockyard the news of her arrival. The lights of the "Mudlark" were soon afterwards observed as she threaded her way through the tortuous passage between Drake's Island and the mainland, and in company the two vessels bore away in the direction of Penlee Point.

Officers and crew were in a state of suppressed excitement. If Captain Restronguet were a man of his word, as he evidently was, his capture seemed certain, for the waters of Cawsand Bay were admirably suited to the arrangements which Captain Tarfag had made for his great coup.

By dawn the vicinity of the bay presented a scene of animation. The cliffs between the village of Cawsand and Penlee Tower were black with people. Thousands of the good folk of the Three Towns had crossed over to Cremyll and thence, mostly on foot--for the number of vehicles available was quite inadequate--had tramped the hilly road across Maker Heights. Kept at a respectful distance by a strong patrol of picquet-boats were hundreds of crafts of all sizes, from the frail pleasure skiff to the weatherly fishing-smacks and the local ferry steamers. Beyond these lay several battleships and cruisers whose presence had not yet been required in the North Sea; and since they were of an older type, with masts and unprotected decks, they were literally covered with human beings.

A better place to effect the capture of the submarine could hardly be found, for the depth shelved gradually from twenty feet close inshore to forty along a line joining the extremities of Penlee and Picklecombe Points.

The after-decks of the two surveying vessels were buried beneath piles of nets composed of three-inch tarred rope intermeshed with flexible steel wire. These could be "paid-out" with considerable rapidity, and being buoyed and weighted would sink automatically till their upper edge was ten feet below the surface and their lower edge the same distance from the bottom. Both vessels were to start simultaneously from the western extremity of the Breakwater and head for Penlee and Picklecombe Points respectively, where strong parties of seamen were ready to haul the ends of the nets ashore.

At half-past five Captain Tarfag gave the order to commence paying out the obstructions, and at a steady six knots the "Investigator" steamed ahead, her consort, being a slower vessel, having to take the shorter distance--that between the Breakwater and Picklecombe. Precisely at five minutes to six the shoreward ends of the nets were secured.

"If Captain Restronguet keeps his promise he is already safe in the net!" exclaimed Lieutenant Egmont. "You see, there is nothing to prevent him from giving his signal at the appointed time. There are no vessels in the bay, and no aircraft overhead."

"It will be a nasty shock to those craft if he fires a rocket over their heads," remarked Arnold Hythe, indicating the crowd of small vessels that, in spite of the picquet-boats, were continually edging nearer and nearer in the desire of their occupants to see more of the promised "fun." "But what is going to happen when we trap the submarine?"

"Oh, Captain Tarfag and I have already settled about that," replied the navigating lieutenant confidentially. "As soon as we are certain that the submarine is in the bay parties of men ashore will drag in the nets, till the craft is either stranded or her propellers are hopelessly entangled in the rope and wire strands. But stand by! It's close on six."

A hush fell on the assembled multitudes. Every face was turned in the direction of the tranquil bay, where, save for a slight ground-swell, the water was unruffled.

The crowds were not kept waiting. Punctually to the minute, at less than four hundred yards from shore and almost abreast of the little village that gives the bay its name, a green and white flag, hanging limply from a staff by reason of the saturated state of the bunting, rose above the surface. Then urged by some unseen power the flag-staff ripped its way through the water, throwing the spray in silvery cascades. Then it described a circle of less than a hundred yards in diameter, then as abruptly as it appeared the emblem of the mysterious Captain Restronguet vanished beneath the surface.

"We've got him, by Jove!" shouted Captain Tarfag.

Four blasts in rapid succession from the "Investigator's" syren was the signal for the men ashore to haul away.

Slowly the ponderous line of netting was dragged through the water. Fortunately there was little or no tide and hardly any floating weed to render the task more difficult than it might otherwise have been; nevertheless it required an hour's hard work ere the enclosed space marked by the line of buoys appreciably diminished.

All the while signals from the "Investigator" were being exchanged with the look-out tower on Penlee Point. Again and again came the disquieting news "No sign of submarine."

"Surely in fifty feet, with a clear sandy bottom, those fellows up there ought to detect the craft!" exclaimed Lieutenant Egmont impatiently.

"I failed to see it at ten yards, although I admit the water was awfully muddy," said the sub.

"But what if she's given us the slip?" continued the navigating lieutenant. "Look, man; in another half an hour the bight of the net will come ashore."

"A lot may happen in half an hour," replied Hythe. "Unless she uses an explosive to clear a passage we have her safe enough, and I do not think that Captain Restronguet will resort to extreme measures, judging how he has already behaved in British waters."

"What I want to know is how Captain Tarfag proposes to take possession of her, when she is held up in the nets. He told me he had a plan, which we are now carrying out, but not a word more on the subject would he say, so, of course, I couldn't offer any suggestions."

"It is nearly high-water springs," observed the sub. "That means that we could get her sufficiently high for the falling tide to leave her stranded. Hulloa! What's that?"

A sudden commotion at less than a cable's length on the "Investigator's" starboard bow showed that some large moving object had been held up in the stout meshes of the net. Myriads of air-bubbles rose to the surface, causing a considerable patch of broken water on the otherwise smooth sea. A light-draught picquet boat, with two heavy grapnels made ready to lower, dashed over the submerged net. The iron hooks fell with a dull splash.

"Holding, sir!" shouted the midshipman in charge of the picquet-boat.

"Good! Belay there!" replied Captain Tarfag. "Drop the second grapnel, and I will send a boat to bring the rope aboard."

The working parties ashore desisted in their efforts. All the power at their command could not bring the nets home another fathom. Held by the submarine, that in turn was tenaciously anchored to the bottom of the bay, they absolutely refused to be hauled in. A sounding gave a depth of seven and a half fathoms.

"Mr. Hythe," shouted the captain.

The sub took the bridge-ladder at top speed, and saluting, awaited his chief's orders.

"Oh, Mr. Hythe," continued the latter. "I want to send a couple of men down to report on the position of the submarine. If she's anchored, get them to find out in which direction her cable leads and we can then creep for it. Also I want to ascertain whether it be possible to lower the bight of a chain under her bow and stern. If that can be done I'll signal to the Dockyard for a couple of lighters, and we'll lift the craft with the rising tide and take her straight into the Hamoaze. But mind, Mr. Hythe, I wish it to be distinctly understood that volunteers only are required for this service."

"I should like to descend, sir."

"You! Why I thought, by Jove, you had enough of it on the last occasion you encountered the submarine, judging by all accounts. But of course, I should be glad to accept your offer. Take two men with you."

The sub again saluted, and on gaining the quarter deck ordered the bo's'un's mate to pipe away the diving-party.

Of the qualified divers every man-jack expressed his desire, as vehemently as the presence of the officers permitted, to go down. Hythe would have much preferred to have taken Moy and Banks, who at his request had been transferred from the "flagship, but favouritism he strongly set his face against.

"Numbers one and two front rank men, fall out."

Number one was a tall, broad-shouldered Irishman named O'Shaunessey, a man who still retained the Wexford brogue. Number two was a dapper little Cockney, Price by name, who had the distinction of holding the Navy record for deep-sea diving.

"Look here, Price," said the sub, "I'm going down too; but I want you to clearly understand what to do. I will try to locate the Submarine, and see if there is any possibility of raising it by means of a grapnel. You I want to get as close to the bows as you can without much chance of being seen and report by telephone what forefoot she has, if any, and if there's any chance of slinging her at that end. O'Shaunessey, I want you to examine the after-end, and find out what overhang she has; also whether her propellers are foul of anything."

"Hurry up, there!" ordered Captain Tarfag. He was naturally anxious that his prey should not escape him, for, although the strain on the picquet boat's grapnel-line was maintained, the bubbles no longer rose from the enmeshed submarine.

Hythe was the first to descend, from a boat lowered from the "Investigator." The conditions beneath the surface were far more favourable than on the occasion of his descent at Spithead, for the bottom was of firm white sand, and the tidal current was barely a quarter of a knot.

Ere he had traversed fifty yards an ill-defined mass loomed up ahead of him. It was the submarine, exaggerated out of all proportion by the refractive properties of the water.

With rapidly beating heart the sub continued to advance. Suddenly he saw a figure in diver's dress approaching. He stopped. The stranger stopped too.

"I'll wait for Price and O'Shaunessey," thought Hythe, and still keeping his face towards the unknown diver he laboriously retraced his steps. As he did so the stranger did likewise.

"I wonder----" thought the sub, and raising his right arm he saw the unknown diver simultaneously raise his left. Hythe was confronted by a magnified reflection of himself. The sides of the submarine were made of a mirror-like substance.

Keeping a respectful distance from the submerged craft Hythe walked towards, but parallel to, the bows. Presently he became aware that he was passing under the lowermost edge of the net, that, with elongated meshes, was stretched tightly across the upper portion of the stem of the submarine.

Since nothing had attempted to molest him, Hythe's sense of confidence rose.

"No, they wouldn't dare play the fool now," he reasoned. "There's no escape for them, and they will make the best of a bad job by surrendering at discretion as soon as the lighters sling her clear of the bottom. I wonder where her cable is?"

No signs of the submarine's anchor and chain were visible. There were hawse-pipes--two on the starboard bow and one on the port bow, but in none of them was a stockless anchor, or indeed one of any description. The hawsepipes were partly concealed by the nets, but the meshes were sufficiently distended to make the sub certain on that point.

Keeping his eyes fixed upon the ground Hythe walked on, thinking that, from the position of the vessel, he would eventually stumble over an anchor and chain lying half-buried in the sand. At length he came to the limit of his life-line, his search unrewarded.

"That's completely stumped me--middle wicket, by Jove!" he muttered. "A looking-glass submarine fixed as tight as a limpet to the sand, and not an anchor to be seen! All in good time, I suppose. When we get her into Plymouth we'll find out all we want to learn soon enough."

With that he turned and began to make his way round the submarine once more.

"Oh, there's O'Shaunessey!" he said to himself, as a huge helmeted figure came shambling along through the semi-transparent water. "I wonder what---- Great Scott!"

Arnold Hythe came to an abrupt stop. The diver approaching him was not O'Shaunessey. The Irishman's helmet was provided with an air-tube, and a life-line encircled his chest; this fellow had neither. He was one of the crew of Captain Restronguet's submarine.

The sub was not devoid of personal courage. The sight of the strange diver advancing in his direction aroused all the bull-dog fighting instinct in him.

"All right, my fine fellow!" he muttered. "I'll see if I can't tackle you."

Unhesitatingly he advanced towards the stranger. The latter, pausing a brief instant, held up one hand as if warning off his rival, but seeing that Hythe was intent upon grappling with him he stood on his guard.

The sub had no compunction. Although he could not under present circumstances summon the man to surrender in the King's name, he realized that, by virtues of the special Act of Parliament, he was authorized to summarily arrest any member of Captain Restronguet's command.

The next instant the two divers were locked in a close embrace, Hythe endeavouring to bring the man's arms to his sides, while at the same time he shouted through the telephone for his comrades in the boat to haul him to the surface. The unknown struggled desperately, striving to pass one heavily-leaded boot behind the sub's ankle. For ten seconds they grappled in the eerie depths of the sea, then Hythe found himself being dragged along the sandy bottom. His signal to be hauled up was being answered, and the steady strain on the life-line told him that unless anything unforeseen occurred another minute would find him and his captive at the surface.

On and on, over the yielding sand the two men were dragged, for the long scope of rope prevented an immediate upward ascent. Suddenly the unknown diver wrenched one hand free. He drew his knife, the blade glinted dully in the pale green light, and with a steady motion severed the life-line.

"Great heavens! He'll sever my air-tube next," thought the sub, but, apparently content with the advantage already scored, the fellow dropped his knife and tightened his grasp upon his antagonist.

"Blow me up!" gasped Hythe through the telephone, but although the men at the air-pumps redoubled their exertions the extra pressure of air escaped through the valve in the young officer's helmet, since he was unable to close it.

"I am attacked. Tell O'Shaunessey and Price to come to my assistance," exclaimed the sub. In spite of his powerful physique he was not even holding his own. He had bitten off more than he could chew.

During the struggle the sand churned up by the feet of the wrestlers rose till it was almost impossible to see more than a few feet away. Several times Hythe gave a hasty glance to see if his men were coming to his aid--but no.

Four grotesquely-attired figures appeared through the sand-blurred water. With a feeling of dismay the sub realized that he was hopelessly outnumbered. Since he had taken the initiative in provoking the contest he knew that he must expect to accept the consequences; yet he determined to resist as long as his strength of body and mind remained.

Powerful hands grasped him by the arms and legs. He was overthrown and lifted into a horizontal position. Even then he kicked out strongly till his captors, having good cause to fear his leaden-soled boots, desisted in their efforts to secure his legs.

A loud buzzing--the hiss of escaping air--told him that the worst was at hand. The minions of Captain Restronguet were unscrewing the union of his air-tube.