<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2><span>CHAPTER X</span></h2>
<p>For some minutes after the Commander-in-Chief had finished speaking, I
stood staring down at the white whirl of water below me, wrapt in what I
might term, for want of a better simile, an overwhelming bewilderment of
terror. There could be no doubt that the construction he had placed upon
what he had heard was a correct one. Yet it seemed beyond belief, as I
reviewed it in my mind, that there could exist men in the world, so
base, so callous, as to even contemplate putting such a scheme into
execution. And yet, what other construction could we place upon it?</p>
<p>"Are you quite sure that you have told it to me exactly as you heard
it?" I said, trying to speak calmly. "As you are aware, the mere
substitution of one word for another, or the change of a sentence, might
make all the difference."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Oh no," he said, "I am absolutely certain that I have repeated the
conversation word for word as I heard it. In fact, I should be prepared
to stake my life upon it."</p>
<p>"Very well. Now let us look at the matter from every point of view. You
say that Reiffenburg asserted that a certain something, when fully wound
up, would run for an hour. Is that not so?"</p>
<p>The Commander-in-Chief nodded.</p>
<p>"In that case," I continued, "we may believe ourselves to be right if we
describe that something as a clock-work machine. We may also be sure
that if the explosion to which he referred is to take place, it will be
when the machine has run for the allotted time. In other words, it is an
anarchist bomb, of superior construction and capable of being set, like
an alarum clock, to go off at a given time. The mere fact that it is to
be placed in the stoke-hole, shows that it is to be used on board a
steamer, and it is scarcely likely to be on any other than this boat.
Putting all these things together, we arrive at this conclusion: The day
after to-morrow another vessel is due to join us. Our captors<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</SPAN></span> and the
crew of this boat will leave her and go aboard the new-comer, having
previously set the machine going, and——"</p>
<p>"And we shall be left locked in our cabins to drown like rats in a
trap!" said my companion in an awed whisper.</p>
<p>"That, I take it, is the idea," I answered slowly.</p>
<p>"My God! Manderville, how can you speak so quietly. Don't you realise
what an awful position we are placed in?"</p>
<p>"I realize it perfectly," I answered. "I am trying to think what we can
do to save ourselves."</p>
<p>The situation was so terrible that for a few moments I stood looking
across the waste of water, seeing nothing but a man locked in his cabin,
knowing that the ship was sinking, and battling vainly for life. "The
day after to-morrow! The day after to-morrow!" The words rang in my
brain like the tolling of a funeral knell.</p>
<p>"Surely there must be a way out of it if we can only find it," I
said—"some manner in which we can thwart these murderous ruffians. Let
us put our wits to work with all speed,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</SPAN></span> and see whether or not we can
find a loophole of escape."</p>
<p>"I have been doing that all the afternoon," the Commander-in-Chief
replied, "but so far without any success. If we are locked in our
cabins, I don't see how it will be possible for us to do anything. A
mouse confined in a trap, when a servant-girl plunges it into a bucket
of water, is not more helpless than we shall be."</p>
<p>"Come, come, old friend," I said, "you must not give way like that."</p>
<p>"I don't think any man can accuse me of cowardice," he replied, "but I
must confess that when I think of what may happen the day after
to-morrow, my courage fails me."</p>
<p>"But it's not going to happen," I answered. "Make up your mind to that.
As I said just now, there must be a way out of it, and we've got to find
it. In the meantime, we must endeavour, if possible, to let the others
know the position of affairs, though how that's to be managed, I must
confess I don't quite see. It is not possible to approach their cabins,
and, according to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</SPAN></span> the new arrangement, we are not allowed to come into
personal contact with them."</p>
<p>"Could it not be managed by means of the port-holes?" my companion
enquired. "Your cabin and that occupied by Castellan adjoin, I believe?"</p>
<p>"That is so," I replied, "but I could not reach a quarter of the
distance that separates his port-hole from mine, and I have nothing in
my cabin to assist me. But we must think it over and see what can be
done. Now we had better begin to pace the deck again, or they may grow suspicious."</p>
<p>With that we set out, and for upwards of an hour religiously patrolled
the poop. At the end of that time we were ordered below, and when my
cabin door was locked upon me, I sat myself down on my locker and put my
brains to work. The first point to be decided, as I have said above, was
how we were to communicate with the others; the second and all
important, was to find a means of escape from the doom that had been
prepared for us. At last, my head in a whirl, I turned into bed and
endeavoured to divert my mind from the burden it carried.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</SPAN></span> The attempt
was useless, however, as may be easily understood. Think of what I
would, my thoughts invariably came back to the same subject. I recalled
that night in Paris, when the eyes of the woman we had known as the
Countess de Venetza had exercised such a strange effect upon me. I
remembered the nameless horror they had inspired in me, and the
sleepless nights I had had in consequence. I also recalled our first
meeting and our crossing to London together. Who would have dreamt then
that that meeting would have ended in this terrible fashion?</p>
<p>Hour by hour the night wore on until the faint, weird light of dawn
crept into the sky. We might now say that <i>to-morrow</i> we should know our
fate. Then, tired of tumbling and tossing in my bunk, I left it, and
stood at the open port-hole, watching the great, grey waves go by. There
was a fair sea running, and, in consequence, the steamer was rolling heavily.</p>
<p>"If only I could find some means of communicating with Castellan," I
said to myself for the hundredth time. "He and Woller might put their
wits to work, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</SPAN></span> possibly hit upon a scheme that would save us." Then,
in a flash, as is generally the way, an idea occurred to me. If I were
permitted a chance of carrying it out, it was quite within the bounds of
possibility that it might succeed.</p>
<p>Taking my letter-case from my pocket, I selected a clean half-sheet of
note-paper, and wrote upon it a letter to the Colonial Secretary. In it
I told him what the Commander-in-Chief had discovered, and what our
suspicions were. I begged him to tell Woller, and between them to try
and think out a scheme for our deliverance. When I had finished, I made
the note into a cocked hat and slipped it into my pocket. I might here
remark, that the doors of the various cabins opened directly into the
saloon, and that at the foot of each door there was the space of nearly
an inch. My object, therefore, was to get the note under the door
without our gaolers observing what I was doing. At first glance this
would appear a difficult matter to accomplish, but I had every
confidence in my plan, and was determined to make the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</SPAN></span> attempt. As good
fortune had it, Castellan's cabin was almost directly behind my seat in
the saloon, and this was a point in my favour. Having settled upon an
idea for delivering this note, I was in a fever to put it into
execution. It seemed as if the breakfast hour would never arrive, but at
last the door was unlocked, and I was informed that the meal was upon
the table. Now or never must my scheme be carried out.</p>
<p>As I have said, the ship was rolling heavily, and for this reason I
clutched at the rail running along the side of the saloon, while with my
left I made a feint of reaching the back of the seat at the table. Then,
abandoning the rail, I staggered forward, just as the ship was finishing
her downward roll. The natural consequence was that I lost my footing as
she came up again, and found myself lying in a heap upon the floor of
the saloon, just before Castellan's cabin. While in this position, it
was quite easy to push the note underneath the door without attracting
attention. This accomplished, I staggered to my feet and to my position
at the table, flattering myself that the whole thing had been so natural
that the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</SPAN></span> suspicions of our captors could not possibly have been
aroused. Our meal at an end, I followed the Commander-in-Chief to the deck above.</p>
<p>"Well," I said, when we reached the taffrail, "have you anything to tell me?"</p>
<p>"Nothing," he answered lugubriously. "I lay awake all night puzzling my
brains, but without success. If only we could communicate with
Castellan, I feel sure he would be able to work out some scheme."</p>
<p>"It is already done," I replied. "I managed to get a note to him this morning."</p>
<p>"You did," he said, with a look of incredulity upon his face. "Then how
on earth did you manage it?"</p>
<p>"By giving myself a bump which I shall remember for some hours to come,"
I replied. "You observed the fall I had in the saloon, when trying to
reach the breakfast-table?"</p>
<p>"Yes, I noticed it," he answered; "but what had that to do with it?"</p>
<p>"Everything in the world," I said. "Perhaps it did not strike you that
my fall took place outside Castellan's cabin door. That was when I got
the note to him. If you did not see it,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</SPAN></span> it is more than probable that
the others did not. In that case, we need have no fears in that direction."</p>
<p>"There is the making of a strategist in you," he said, with the first
smile upon his face I had seen there since he told me his dreadful news.</p>
<p>"Many thanks. Now the next thing to consider is, how is Castellan to reply."</p>
<p>"He'll find a way," my companion replied. "Never fear, Castellan is a
resourceful man, and all I hope is that he'll find a way of getting us
out of this hole. If we could only manage to get out of our cabins,
there might be some chance for us, but so far as I can see, there is not
the slightest possibility of being able to do that. What is more to the
point, did you observe that they are making assurance doubly sure by
putting a padlock on each cabin door?"</p>
<p>"No, I did not notice it," I replied. "How do you know it?"</p>
<p>"Because the carpenter was at work on my door before breakfast," he answered.</p>
<p>If this were so, our case was indeed hopeless, for while we might be
able to force the lock, it would be impossible to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</SPAN></span> break through both
lock and staple. When we returned to the saloon, I found that what my
companion had said was only too true. The man had placed the necessary
fittings on each of my friends' cabin doors, and was just commencing on
mine. He stood aside to let me pass, and as he did so, I noticed that
behind the flap of his tool basket, and less than a couple of inches
from the door, lay a small gimlet, which doubtless he had been using for
the work he had been engaged upon. As I saw it, a longing to possess it,
such as I never had for anything in my life, came over me. If only I
could get it into the cabin unobserved, it would be worth more to me
than a hundred times its weight in gold. Was it possible, however, to
secure it? I had only a second in which to hit upon a scheme, but that
was sufficient. Putting my hand to my waistcoat, I gave a tug at the
cord which carried my eye-glass. It snapped and the glass rolled away
across the floor towards the spot where the man was standing. He stooped
to pick it up, but before he had time to stand upright again, I had
given the gimlet a push with my foot, and it was inside the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</SPAN></span> cabin. When
the man returned the glass to me, I gave him a coin for his trouble,
thanked him, and then walked into my cabin and shut the door. Once that
was closed behind me, I picked up my treasure and thrust it under the
mattress of my bunk. The question the next few minutes would have to
decide was whether the loss would be discovered, and if so, whether the
man would accuse me of taking it. So invaluable would it be to me, that
I felt as though I would have fought the world for its possession. I
could plainly hear him driving in the last screws, and afterwards
placing the tools he had been using in his basket with the others. A
moment later the padlock was placed on the door and locked, and then my
hearing told me that he was leaving the saloon. When all was safe, I
took the gimlet from its hiding-place once more, and regarded it with an
interest that, I can assure you, no article of that description had ever
inspired in me before. Now, if only it were not discovered that I had it
in my possession, I felt that I should be able to make my escape from
the cabin when the proper time arrived.</p>
<p>When we went on deck after luncheon, I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</SPAN></span> informed the Commander-in-Chief
of my good fortune, and of the use I intended putting it to. His delight
was as sincere as my own, and we were about to discuss the possibilities
it opened up for us, when I felt compelled to take off the yachting cap
Reiffenburg had lent me on the morning after my arrival on board.
Hitherto it had been tolerably comfortable, now it did not fit at all. A
nasty lump was pressing upon my forehead, and in order to discover what
occasioned it, I lifted the strip of leather inside, to find a piece of
paper there that had certainly not been in the cap when I had last worn
it. One second's consideration was sufficient to convince me that this
was Castellan's method of conveying a message to me. He must have worn
my cap when on deck, and have placed the strip of paper in a place where
he knew I should be well-nigh certain to find it.</p>
<p>Leaning on the taffrail, with our backs turned to the sentry, I opened
it and eagerly scanned the contents. It ran as follows:—</p>
<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Manderville</span>,—Your letter astounded me. The plot you speak of
only serves to show what a set of fiends we have fallen in with.
Since<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</SPAN></span> receiving it, I have been puzzling my brains for a solution
of the difficulty, but so far have discovered no plan that could
have the remotest prospect of success. As you will by this time
have noticed, our enemies have taken double precautions to ensure
our remaining prisoners. Unless we can manage to force our way out
at the last moment, I fear that our fate is sealed. Should any idea
occur to either of us, I will communicate with you again by the
same means that I have employed on this occasion. God bless you
both, and may He help us in our trouble.—Your friend,</p>
<p class="right">B. C."</p>
</blockquote>
<p>When we had read it I tore it into small pieces and threw the fragments
overboard. Half an hour later, when we went below, I wrote him a brief
note in which I told him to be of good cheer, for I thought I had hit
upon a scheme which might very possibly prove successful. This, when
next we were on deck together, I placed in the hat, and on the following
morning had the satisfaction of finding it gone.</p>
<p>Try, if you can, to imagine with what feelings we greeted the dawn of
the day that was to mean so much for us. Who knew what the end of it
would be? The mere idea was quite bad enough, but the uncertainty as to
when the event we dreaded would take place<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</SPAN></span> was much worse. It might not
be until towards evening, or it might be at any moment. I was well aware
that to carry out the plan I had proposed to myself—namely, the boring
holes with the gimlet round the lock and the hasp and staple that
secured the padlock, would take a long time, and, if left until the last
moment, would be useless. On the other hand, for all our sakes, I dared
not begin the work while there was even the remotest chance of our
enemies discovering it. I was not afraid of their looking behind the
door, for the simple reason that when I was out of the cabin, it was
invariably hitched back, by means of a brass catch, to the end of the
bunk—and there would be no reason for them to examine it. Yet if the
point of the gimlet should chance to penetrate the smooth surface round
the lock on the other side, detection would be certain, and the plot
would fail by reason of it. Therefore, when we returned from our morning
spell on deck, I embraced a momentary opportunity that presented itself,
and measured the exact thickness of the door. Then when the latter was
closed upon me and I was alone, I was able to mark the gimlet to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</SPAN></span>
correspond. Having allowed a sufficient margin to ensure the point not
going quite through the door, I mapped out my plan of operations, and
set to work. The gimlet was not a large one, nor was its point
particularly sharp. The labour was therefore prodigious; the tiny
box-handle cut and blistered my hand, my face streamed with
perspiration, but still I worked on and on, remembering always that not
only my own life, but the lives of my companions, depended upon my
exertions. By mid-day more than three-parts of the work was
accomplished. As a memento of the occasion, large blisters covered the
palm of my hand, while every muscle of my arm ached as if I had been
placed upon the rack. That no suspicions should be aroused, I removed
every particle of sawdust from the floor, and dropped it out of the
port-hole, to be carried away by the breeze. By the time I was summoned
to the luncheon only some twenty holes remained, and these I resolved to
complete as soon as we returned from our airing on deck.</p>
<p>During the progress of the meal, it was easily to be seen that something
unusual was going on. Our guards were unmistakably<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</SPAN></span> excited, and I will
do the older man, Sargasta, the credit of saying that he appeared
sufficiently alive to his own villainy to have no desire for
conversation with either the Commander-in-Chief or myself. Conrad, on
the other hand, was even more flippant than usual. I noticed also that
both men watched the deck uneasily, as though they were momentarily
expecting news from that quarter. If this were so, they were destined to
be disappointed, for the meal ended as uneventfully as it had begun.</p>
<p>According to custom, we had left our chairs and were proceeding to the
door at the further end of the saloon, in order to take our usual
promenade, when a hail reached us from the deck above. Conrad's face—he
was standing in front of us at the time—turned as pale as the cloth
upon the table, and when he ordered us back to our cabins, a second or
so later, it was in a voice so unlike his own that I scarcely recognised
it. As for myself, a sudden, and peculiar, feeling of composure had come
over me. I felt sure the vessel they were expecting was in sight, and
that in a short time they would be on their way to board her, leaving us
to meet, with what fortitude we<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</SPAN></span> might, the miserable death they had
arranged for us.</p>
<p>To have let them have the least suspicion that we were aware of what
they were about to do, would have been madness on our part, for in that
case they would either have killed us outright, or have taken the
precaution of making our cabins so secure, that we could not possibly
escape from them in time. Once in my cabin I went to the port-hole and
looked out. As I expected, I had interpreted the hail from deck aright,
for, coming swiftly towards us, was a handsome vessel of the yacht type.
Already, as I could tell from the revolutions of the screw, we had
slackened our pace, and were doing but little more than crawl through
the water. If we were to save ourselves we had not a moment to lose.
Going to the bunk and procuring my gimlet, I set about the completion of
my task with feverish energy. The blisters in the palm of my hand burnt
like fire, my arm still ached from its morning exertion, but I kept
steadily on, remembering that every turn of the little point was
bringing us one revolution nearer safety. Only pausing now and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</SPAN></span> again to
look out of the port-hole, in order to note the vessel's progress, I
continued the work until only some half-dozen holes were required to
finish the task. In the saloon outside perfect silence reigned, and I
could guess why—they were either preparing the machine, or making ready
to leave the ship. It seemed to me that I could hear the ticking of the
clock-work of the bomb. What if it were already in the stoke-hole, and
had been running for half-an-hour? Another half-an-hour might elapse
before I should be able to open the door. This thought sent the sweat of
pure terror rolling down my face, and caused me to work with feverish
haste. At last I could see the new-comer without moving from the door.
She was still little more than a mile away, and was signalling our
vessel. Overhead the tramp of feet was to be heard, followed by the
whine of a rope running through a sheave. A moment later a boat was
lowered, and lay for a moment in full view of my port-hole, before she disappeared.</p>
<p>By this time I had thrown caution to the winds, and was boring my holes
right through the door, and out on the other side. I had<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</SPAN></span> just finished
the last but one, and was about to withdraw the gimlet, when, without
warning, the frail shaft broke off near the handle, and the little
instrument, which a moment before had been our connecting link with
life, lay at my feet as useless as a straw. I gazed at it for a moment,
and then threw the handle from me with a gesture of despair. If I had
not already done enough to make the door yield, my work would be of no
avail. Suddenly a voice from the deck above called through the skylight
in the saloon, "Conrad."</p>
<p>"Well?" cried the voice of Reiffenburg in answer from his cabin on the
port side; "what is it?"</p>
<p>"What are you about that you do not come? Don't you know that the time is half gone?"</p>
<p>On hearing this, I sank back upon the locker almost beside myself with
terror. My suspicions were correct after all. <i>The machine had already
been running for half-an-hour.</i> A few seconds later a light step sounded
in the saloon and went clattering up the ladder. I waited a few moments,
and then, with agonizing curiosity, got on to my feet and looked out of
the port-hole once more. I was just in time<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</SPAN></span> to see three boats leave
the side, and push off in the direction of the stranger. Reiffenburg,
Sargasta, and the man who had waited upon us, were in that nearest me;
the rest were filled with the officers and crew. As they drew further
away they looked back at our doomed vessel, while Reiffenburg, upon
whose face I can quite imagine that devilish smile to be playing, took
off his hat and waved it to us, as if in ironical farewell. Then I
sprang off the locker, and, seizing the handle of the door, pulled with
all my strength. To my horror it stood the test. I tried again, with the
same result, and then fell back against the wash-hand-stand, hopeless,
for the moment, to the very centre of my being. All the time a little
voice within me was telling me that in the stoke-hole the wheels were
going round remorselessly, ticking off the seconds that separated us
from death. Not more than a couple of minutes could have elapsed since
the men had deserted the ship, but to me they seemed like hours. Then,
gathering all my strength together, for one great effort, I once more
gave the door a terrific pull. This time I was more successful, for the
wood cracked.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</SPAN></span> Another crash followed, the door gave way under the
strain, and I found myself stretched on my back upon the floor. <i>I was free!</i></p>
<p>Regaining my feet I did not hesitate. I had arranged the whole plan in
my mind beforehand, and did not waste a second considering what should
be done. Shouting to my companions that I would free them in a few
minutes, I rushed along the saloon, down the little alleyway, past the
steward's cabin, and so on to the main-deck. Before a man could have
counted twenty I was standing among the polished wheels and rods of the
engine-room. "Heaven send they remained true of their decision to place
it in the stoke-hole," I said to myself as I descended the narrow ladder
that led to the furnace-room below.</p>
<div class="center"><ANTIMG src="images/ill_03.jpg" width-obs='449' height-obs='700' alt="Clutching it in my arms" /></div>
<p class="bold"><span class="smcap">Clutching it in my arms.</span></p>
<p class="bold"><i>To face page 281.</i></p>
<p>It is strange how, in moments of such awful mental anguish, the mind
will revert from the matter in hand to some apparently trivial subject.
On this occasion I remembered how, many years ago, the Chairman of a
great Steamship Company had been kind enough to take me over one of
their new vessels, and had shown me the engine-room and the stoke-hole
below. How little I had thought then that my next visit to a similar<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</SPAN></span>
place would be in search of an infernal machine that was intended to
take my life! Rung by rung I descended the ladder and at last found
myself in the stoke-hole. The furnaces were still alight, the men not
having taken the trouble to draw the fires. Their rakes and shovels lay
just as where they had thrown them down, but not a trace of the object I
was searching for could I discover. Like a madman I ran hither and
thither, hunting high and low: indeed it was not until I was almost
giving up the search in despair, and was going off to look elsewhere,
that my diligence was rewarded. Then, in a corner, I made out a black
object, in shape not unlike a large band-box. That it was the bomb there
could be no doubt, for when I placed my ear to its side, I could
distinctly hear the ticking of the clockwork within. Clutching it in my
arms, regardless of what would happen should the allotted time expire
while I was carrying it, I climbed the ladder, passed through the engine
room, and into the alley beyond. A mist was clouding my eyes, my breath
came in heavy gasps, but I heeded nothing save the necessity for getting
that devilish contrivance overboard, and out of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</SPAN></span> harm's way. Reaching
the bulwarks on the starboard side, that is to say, on the side opposite
to that on which the strange vessel was lying, I raised it high above my
head and threw it from me. It struck the water with a splash, a few
bubbles followed it, and then it was gone. So far as that was concerned, we were saved.</p>
<p>Having thrown the machine overboard, I made my way to the saloon as
quickly as possible. Much still remained to be done. I could imagine
with what impatience my companions were awaiting my return; being in
ignorance of what was going on, their anxiety must have been greater
than mine. Hastening to the Captain's cabin on the port side, which
during our term on board had been occupied by Sargasta, I flung open the
door and hurried in, to find a scene of the wildest confusion. Clothes,
papers, and books were strewn about the floor in hopeless disorder, but
the articles which I had come in search of, the keys of my friends'
cabin doors, also those of the padlocks, lay in a bunch before me upon
the table. I picked them up and hastened into the saloon once more. In
but little longer time than it takes to tell, the doors were opened, and they were at liberty.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"And the machine?" cried Castellan, while the others looked the
question.</p>
<p>"Overboard," I answered. "I hastened to get it out of the way, before
coming to relieve you."</p>
<p>"God bless you, Manderville," said Woller, taking my hand. "You have
saved our lives!"</p>
<p>"There can be no doubt of that," put in the Commander-in-Chief. "And
now, what is to be done?"</p>
<p>"We must get away from that boat over there," I answered. "Castellan,
you have always had a liking for mechanics and engineering, do you think
you could undertake the engines?"</p>
<p>"I think I could manage them at a pinch," he replied. "At any rate, I am
quite willing to try."</p>
<p>"And you?"</p>
<p>"I must go to the wheel," I answered. "Whatever happens, we must give
that vessel yonder a run for her money. Now let us be off, but be sure
to keep out of sight as you cross the deck. They'll be waiting and
watching for the explosion."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"In that case, Heaven be thanked, they are doomed to disappointment,"
said Woller.</p>
<p>"Now, Castellan," I said, "if you can do us the favour of setting this
crazy old tub going again, we shall be grateful." Then turning to Woller
and the Commander-in-Chief, I added: "I am sure, gentlemen, you will,
for once in your lives, condescend to officiate as stokers."</p>
<p>Both were quick to express their willingness to do all that lay in their
power to help, and then we left the saloon and, keeping under cover of
the bulwarks, made our way along the main deck to the midships of the
vessel. In the alleyway at the entrance to the engine-room we paused for
a moment, and Castellan held out his hand, which I took without a word.
The others followed suit, and then I sped on towards the ladder leading
to the bridge. Reaching the wheel-house in front of the chart-room, for
I had no intention of going upon the bridge itself, I shouted down the
tube to the engine-room, to know how soon it would be possible for them
to put her ahead.</p>
<p>"I am starting her now," was the reply. "I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</SPAN></span> am afraid, however, that it
will be some time before I can get much out of her."</p>
<p>True to his word, a moment later the vessel began to draw slowly ahead,
but her speed was so slow as to be scarcely perceptible. As I stood at
the wheel I wondered what they were doing on board the other vessel.
Fully half-an-hour had elapsed since they had left the ship, and yet
there had been no explosion. I could distinguish the boats lying
alongside her, and could well imagine how puzzled their occupants must
feel. Then a thought came into my mind which almost brought my heart
into my mouth. What if they should suppose that something had gone wrong
with the mechanism of the bomb, and should return to the vessel to make
sure of our destruction by scuttling her themselves? Under the impulse
of this new fear I applied my mouth to the speaking tube again.</p>
<p>"For Heaven's sake, get all the speed you can on her," I cried. "I am
afraid of their coming back."</p>
<p>"We are doing our best," was the reply. "The pressure is rising steadily."</p>
<p>I prayed that it might rise in time to save<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</SPAN></span> us, and turned my attention
to the wheel once more. Then a sudden and very natural curiosity came
over me to discover, if possible, our whereabouts on the seas. When I
had first come on board they had talked about the North Sea, but I had
now quite convinced myself that this was not the case. At the slow pace
at which she was travelling, the vessel required little or no watching,
so, leaving her to her own devices, I went out of the wheel-room by the
starboard door, in order that I should not be observed by the people on
board the other vessel, and so entered the old-fashioned chart-room. I
quite expected to find the chart there with the run marked out upon it,
and I was not disappointed. The navigator, whoever he was, must have
been both a careful and conscientious man, for I found that he had
pricked off his run up to mid-day. I found it very easy, therefore, to
settle our position. It proved to be as I expected. We were not in the
North Sea at all, and, so far as that chart was concerned, had never
been there. Our true position was three degrees, or thereabouts, west of
Achil Head, on the west coast of Ireland. I had just convinced myself on
this<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</SPAN></span> point, when I chanced to look out of the window on the port side.
Almost before I had time to think, I was back in the wheel-room once more.</p>
<p>"The boats are returning," I shouted down the tube, in a voice that
might have been heard a couple of hundred yards away, and then added
illogically—"can you do nothing?"</p>
<p>I looked again, and sure enough two of the boats were heading directly
for us. It was plain that they had noticed something suspicious, either
from the smoke escaping from the funnel, or the splashing of the screw
astern, otherwise they would not have deemed it necessary to send a
second boat. They must have guessed that we had escaped from our cabins,
and that we had taken charge of the ship.</p>
<p>For a moment a feeling of exultation seized me as I thought of the
disappointment and rage which must be filling their hearts. The feeling,
however, was short-lived. Let them once get aboard, I reflected (and I
did not see how we were to prevent them), and the end, so far as we were
concerned, would be the same as though the bomb I had thrown overboard
had been allowed to do its deadly work. I looked<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</SPAN></span> out again, to discover
that the leading boat was now less than a quarter of a mile away; so
close indeed was she that I could plainly see the men in her—the dark
man, who had officiated as steward, in the bows, and Sargasta and Conrad
in the stern. Every stroke of the oars was bringing her nearer, and
already the man in the bows was getting his boat-hook ready to hitch on
to the accommodation ladder. In another two or three minutes at most,
they would have been aboard. Then in a voice which at any other time I
should not have recognised for my own, I shouted down the tube—"For
Heaven's sake, give her steam. They are close alongside." Then came back
the answer I shall not forget as long as I live: "It's all right now, I
can let her go."</p>
<p>I had scarcely withdrawn my ear from the tube before I felt a throb run
through the vessel, and she was going ahead at a speed that could
scarcely have been less than eight knots an hour. Throwing prudence to
the winds, I ran out to the deck and looked at the boats, now lying
motionless upon the water some considerable distance astern. One of the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</SPAN></span>occupants of the first boat was standing up watching us through a pair
of glasses. Then, realizing that it was hopeless for them to think of
catching us, the boat's head was turned, and they pulled back at a fast
pace towards the yacht. That it would be necessary for the latter to
remain in order to pick them up was quite certain, and in this lay our
chance of obtaining a good start. Through the medium of the
speaking-tube I shouted words of encouragement to the engine-room below.
It needed only a glance over the side to be assured that our speed was
materially increasing. If only we could manage to keep it up until
nightfall, it was just possible we might manage to escape after all. At
one time and another I have sailed many an exciting race, but never one
for such a big stake as that we were now contesting. It was nearly five
o'clock by this time, and the afternoon was rapidly drawing in. In half
an hour it would be dark, then, if we were not overhauled and captured
before, our opportunity would come. Kind, however, as Providence had so
far been, even greater good fortune was still in store for us. I
remember that I had just<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</SPAN></span> called down to the engine-room to know if one
of them could come up to me for a consultation. The Commander-in-Chief
was selected, and it was not long before he made his appearance before
me, collarless, with his shirtsleeves rolled up, and begrimed from head
to foot with coal-dust.</p>
<p>"Where is she?" he asked, as soon as he reached me.</p>
<p>In answer I led him to the door of the wheel-room and pointed astern.</p>
<p>"She has got the boats aboard, and will be after us in a few minutes," I
said. "Let us hope that we shall be able to show them a good pair of
heels. Can she do any more than her present running?"</p>
<p>"Not very much," my companion replied. "We are all inexperienced down
below, you know. If you could see Castellan's face as I saw it just now,
you would see the very picture of anxiety. He says he doesn't know at
what moment he may turn a wrong handle and blow us to pieces."</p>
<p>"I trust he will not do so just yet," I answered. "Tell him we are all
agreed that he is doing splendidly. And now let us see<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</SPAN></span> how our friend,
the enemy, is get—— Why, what's this? what's become of the yacht? I
can't see her!"</p>
<p>We stood at the wheel-house door straining our eyes, but we could see no
sign of the yacht. Providence had sent to our assistance one of those
extraordinary fogs which spring up so quickly on the west coast of
Ireland, and this was the stroke of Good Fortune to which I have already
referred. A moment before the sea had been as open as a mill pond; now
it was covered with an impenetrable blanket of mist.</p>
<p>"If we don't run into anything, or anything doesn't run into us, I fancy
we shall be able to give her the slip, after all," I said. "Now the
matter to be settled is the course we are to pursue. Shall we continue
as we are going, that is to say, parallel with the coast, or shall we
bring her head due west and make for the open sea?"</p>
<p>"There can be no doubt that under the present circumstances, the open
sea is the right place for us," my companion replied. "The western coast
line of Ireland is proverbially treacherous, and if this fog continues,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</SPAN></span>
we ought to have plenty of sea-room about us."</p>
<p>"I agree with you. And the others, what do they say?"</p>
<p>"They are willing to fall in with anything we may decide," he answered.</p>
<p>"In that case, let us steer for the open sea," I said, and put the wheel
over as I did so.</p>
<p>The vessel's head turned slowly round, and when I had got her into the
position I wanted, I resigned the wheel to my companion, telling him to
keep her as she was going, while I went into the next cabin to look at
the chart. On examining it, I was relieved to find that, according to
the course we were now steering, and the speed at which we were
travelling, it would be all straightforward sailing for some hours to come.</p>
<p>By this time the vessel was encompassed in a white shroud, so that it
was impossible to see more than a few yards ahead. As an example, I
might remark that from the wheel-house even the foremast was invisible.
Not a sound was to be heard save the throbbing of the engines and the
dripping of the moisture<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</SPAN></span> upon the deck. Nevertheless, regardless of
consequences, we steamed steadily on, trusting to the good fortune which
had followed us so far to keep any vessel out of our way.</p>
<p>When I returned to the wheel-room, the Commander-in-Chief left for
below, promising, on his arrival there, to send Woller to the cuddy in
search of food. The necessity for husbanding our strength, in view of
the work we had before us, was apparent to all. That the General was
successful in his search was proved by the fact that when he joined me a
quarter of an hour later, he brought with him a bottle of claret, some
excellent ham, and enough bread and cheese to have satisfied two men,
with appetites bigger than my own. After he had left me, I lighted the
lamps in the binnacle and then fell to work upon the food.</p>
<p>So far as that night is concerned there is little else to chronicle.
Hour after hour, that is to say until ten o'clock, we continued our due
westerly coast, and then left the fog behind us, as suddenly as it had
overtaken us. Overhead the stars shone brilliantly, while the sea, save
for the long Atlantic swell, was as smooth<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</SPAN></span> as glass. Though I searched
the waste of water as far as my eye could reach, not a sign of a vessel
could be discovered. Having satisfied myself upon this point, I made the
wheel secure and set off in search of the ship's lights. These I
discovered in the forecastle, and when I had placed them in position I
lighted them, and then returned to the wheel-room. I had not been there
many minutes before the sound of a footstep on the deck outside
attracted my attention, and a minute later Castellan stood before me. No
one would have recognised in the figure he presented, the trim,
well-dressed Colonial Secretary of a few months before.</p>
<p>"All well so far, Manderville," he said cheerily; "but I can tell you
it's terribly anxious work below. I've just run up to obtain a breath of
fresh air and to see what you are doing. I am afraid you must be very tired."</p>
<p>"Not more tired than you are, I expect," I answered. "I intend bringing
her head round to south-west in a few minutes; that should put us in the
track of ships by daylight. Our luck will have deserted us indeed, if we
cannot find one and get them to take us aboard. Do you<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</SPAN></span> think you can
manage to hold out below until then?"</p>
<p>"We must," he replied; "there is nothing else for it. This has been a
terrible day, Manderville. We ought to be thankful that we have come so
well out of it."</p>
<p>"Hear, hear, to that," I answered.</p>
<p>"And now I must be getting back to the engine-room," he said. "Call
through the tube if you want anything, won't you?"</p>
<p>I promised to do so, and then with another good wish, he bade me
farewell and disappeared.</p>
<p>When he had gone I brought the vessel's head round to the course
indicated, and then settled myself down to a long night's vigil. How
wearying it was I must leave my readers to imagine. The night was
bitterly cold, but I was so wrapt up in what I was doing, that I paid
small heed to that. At regular intervals I left the wheel-room and went
to the bridge above, to make sure that no vessel was in sight. Then I
would return to my post and remain there for another quarter of an hour.
It was wearying work, and more than once I was so nearly over-powered by
sleep that it<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</SPAN></span> became necessary for me to stamp my feet and pinch myself
in order to keep awake. At last, after what seemed an eternity of
waiting, the first signs of approaching day were to be observed in the
sky. Then a faint grey light overspread the sea, touching the little
waves until they had the appearance of frosted silver. When it was quite
light I left the wheel and made my way up to the bridge. Still no sail
was in sight, and for all I could see to the contrary, ours might have
been the only vessel upon the ocean.</p>
<p>At seven o'clock, when I was beginning to feel faint for want of food, I
spoke through the tube to Castellan, asking him to send one of his
companions in search of a meal. He informed me that Woller would go
immediately, and on hearing that I returned to my post. I had not been
there many minutes, before I heard a shout outside, and Woller, excited
beyond measure, made his appearance at the wheel-house door.</p>
<p>"A ship! a ship!" he cried. "A man-of-war, if I'm not mistaken, and not
more than five miles away!"</p>
<p>Before he could say anything more I was out<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</SPAN></span> on the deck beside him,
holding on to the rail and watching a large black man-of-war coming up
hand-over-hand. She was certainly not more than five miles distant, and
every moment brought her nearer. Hastening to the engine-room tube, I
called to Castellan to stop our vessel; then, asking Woller to take the
wheel, I ran aft to the signal-locker in the companion hatch. To pick
out the Union Jack and to bend it on the peak halyards occupied scarcely
more time than it takes to tell. Then I ran it up to half-mast as a
signal of distress, and having done so, went aft to the taffrail and
waited for the other vessel to come up to us.</p>
<p>She made an imposing picture in the bright morning light as she came
cleaving her way through the water, and when I remembered all that her
coming meant to us, I could have kissed her very decks in thankfulness.</p>
<p>Returning to the bridge I found Castellan, the Commander-in-Chief, and
Woller awaiting me there. Not a word passed between us for some moments.
We stood gazing at the Queen's ship in silence, waiting to see what she
would do. Then a stream<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</SPAN></span> of signals broke out at her mast-head, but as
it was impossible for us to interpret them without the necessary code,
we were obliged to disregard them. She must have understood this, for
she gradually drew closer until she was less than half a mile distant,
when she came to a standstill.</p>
<p>Shortly after we distinctly heard a boat piped away, saw it leave her
side, and watched it come towards us. A large lump was steadily rising
in my throat as I saw the blue-jackets at the oars and the officer
seated in the stern, and I felt that I was getting perilously near
making a fool of myself. Churning the water under her bows into
snow-white foam, the boat drew alongside. Then the handsome young
officer ascended the accommodation ladder. We had by this time descended
to the main deck to receive him. That he did not recognise us (and he
might very well not have done so) was evident from the fashion in which
he addressed us.</p>
<p>"Well, my men," he began, glancing from one to the other of us, as if to
satisfy himself as to which was the leader, "what is the meaning of your
distress signals? From what<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</SPAN></span> I can see of her, your boat looks right
enough."</p>
<p>"There is no fault to be found with the boat," I answered, realizing in
an instant the position of affairs. "The truth is, we want to be taken
off her. It is impossible to work her with only four men."</p>
<p>"But what has become of the rest of the crew?" he asked, looking round
as if he expected to see them somewhere about.</p>
<p>"They left her yesterday," I answered, unable, despite the gravity of
the situation, to refrain from mystifying him. The youth was so full of
his own importance, and so inclined to be overbearing that I could not help myself.</p>
<p>"And pray what rank do you four hold on board her?" he asked, evidently
not a little surprised by our appearances.</p>
<p>"We are passengers," said the Commander-in-Chief, "and, as my friend
says, we are extremely anxious to leave the ship and go aboard your vessel."</p>
<p>"That's all very well," he answered curtly, "but I don't think it will
do. The skipper wouldn't hear of it, don't you know. But for the
present, what are your names?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Here was the opportunity for which I had been waiting.</p>
<p>"This gentleman is the Right Honourable Benjamin Castellan, Secretary of
State for the Colonies," I said, pointing to Castellan, "this is the
Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, and my friend on your left is
Sir William Woller, who some little time ago was appointed
Commander-in-Chief of the British forces in South Africa."</p>
<p>"Stow that," the officer answered angrily. "You'd better not play the
fool with me. What do you take me for?"</p>
<p>At the same time I noticed that he looked curiously from one to the
other of us as if he could not altogether trust his own judgment. Then
he added: "You know very well that the four gentlemen you speak of are dead."</p>
<p>"You will find, my friend, when you come to know us better, that there
is likely to be a difference of opinion on that score," said the
Commander-in-Chief quietly. "My own is that they are very much alive."</p>
<p>"Perhaps it would be as well for one of us to write a note to the
Captain," Castellan put<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</SPAN></span> in. Then turning to the lieutenant, he
continued: "I think it would be better for you to believe our story, my
friend. What you have been told, as you will admit when you have heard
all we have to say, is quite correct. That we are the people in question
I shall soon hope to convince you. Will you accompany us to the saloon,
or do you prefer to remain here?"</p>
<p>He came with us to the cuddy, and when we had found paper and ink in the
captain's stateroom, Castellan sat down and wrote a note to the
commander of the ship. This was despatched by the boat that had brought
the lieutenant, and in less than half-an-hour Captain Breatford was
ascending the steps of the accommodation ladder. In the meantime we had
made ourselves as presentable as possible, and had quite succeeded in
convincing the lieutenant of the truth of our story. He was profuse in
his apologies for his manner towards us, but we bade him think no more
about it. He might very well have been forgiven for not having recognised us.</p>
<p>I must leave you to imagine the captain's surprise at finding us in such
a strange <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</SPAN></span>position. He prophesied a tremendous sensation in England
when our story should become known.</p>
<p>"You are quite certain, I suppose, that it was off Achil Head that you
parted company with the yacht?" he asked when he had heard our adventures.</p>
<p>"Quite certain," I replied. "But if you would care to convince yourself
on that score, and will come with me to the chart-room, I will show you
the chart worked out by the officer of the watch up to noon yesterday."</p>
<p>He did so, took certain notes, and then invited us to accompany him to
the warship. The necessary officers and crew had already arrived to take
possession of our own vessel, and when all was ready, we bade the old
tub farewell. She had been the theatre of one of the most singular
adventures of the Century, and, but for the fact of my having obtained
possession of that gimlet, might now have been lying at the bottom of
the ocean, with us locked up in her.</p>
<p>On board the man-of-war a consultation was held, and as a result the
captain decided to set off at once in search of the mysterious yacht,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</SPAN></span>
and afterwards to land us at a port whence we could easily reach London.</p>
<p>"In the meantime, gentlemen, permit me to offer you the best hospitality
in my power," he said. "I think, in being permitted to rescue you, I
should deem myself the most fortunate man in the British Navy to-day. To
rescue four such gentlemen is not a chance that falls to a man's lot
very often."</p>
<p>Needless to say we quite agreed with him.</p>
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