CHAPTER XVII
THROUGH THE NARROWS
Frank felt himself go pale under the reaction from the strain of thelast few minutes. But he had won the advantage in the opening of thegame: he must maintain it to the end.
He had so often watched the launch crossing to and fro that he had apretty good idea of the course. Chanak was a couple of miles down thestrait on the opposite shore: it would excite least remark if he steeredas for that town. The vessel was too shallow in draught to run muchrisk from possible mines, and it was so frequently seen that no one on aTurkish ship would pay any attention to it. No doubt an alarm would beraised when the boatman discovered that he had been tricked; but Frankhoped to be several miles on his voyage to safety by that time.
When he drew out from under the lee of the hills he found that the windwas in his favour, blowing directly down the Narrows. This should meanat least a three-knot current. The launch was small, and probablyincapable of more than seven or eight knots: his utmost speed, then,might rise to ten or eleven. But it was not wholly a question of speed.If the alarm was given before he reached the narrowest part of thechannel at Chanak escape would be unlikely if not impossible. Thefast-gathering darkness would be no protection. He would be undersearchlights from both sides, and a dozen batteries would have him underfire at ranges ascertained to a yard. His nerves, judgment, quicknessof decision, would be taxed to the uttermost in this adventurous voyageof a few miles.
With the fall of night navigation practically ceased on the strait;therefore he was not very likely to be run down by accident. But he mustguard against collision with vessels moored under either shore.Further, there was always a chance that he would be challenged from thedeck of one of the stationary vessels, and though he did not doubt hisability to give a reassuring answer, he had always the Kurd to reckonwith. It would have been prudent to gag him, but the opportunity forthat was past. Shaping his course by the faint twilight, he kept one eyeon Abdi, ready to take action instantly if the man showed anydisposition to be troublesome.
So, in growing darkness, he ran down the strait until he came oppositeChanak, which was distinguishable by a few dim lights and the sounds ofbustle on the quays and jetties. The place had suffered considerably bybombardment from the ships of the allied fleet, which had come up towithin a few miles of the Narrows; but it was clear that extensiverepairs were already in progress. Observing two or three large vesselsmoored out of the current in the little bay north of the town, Frank asa measure of precaution cut off the engine, and the launch drifted intothe neck between Chanak and Kilid Bahr. His ear caught the faint soundof a windlass working in the channel at some unseen point ahead.Clearly a vessel lay out there. He pitched his voice to a low note, andgave Abdi a quiet warning not to speak a word or make any movement ofalarm, on pain of receiving the full contents of his revolver. The mostdangerous part of his voyage was evidently at hand.
In a few minutes he saw, some little distance ahead on the starboardside, a large dark shape moving towards him. Putting the helm over, hecrept in more closely to the Asiatic shore, in the hope that the launch,being small and low and travelling silently, would escape observation.But next moment he was startled by the sudden beam of a searchlightplaying over the middle of the channel from some point behind him. Thedarkness on either side was intensified, so that the light, while itswept mid-channel, favoured him; but if it should bend its rays to theleft, the launch would be vividly illuminated, and could not fail to beobserved by the men on the approaching vessel, who would certainlyfollow with their eyes the path of light. He watched the beamlengthening its giant stride. It passed over the slowly approachingtorpedo boat and illuminated the water beyond. Hugging the shore asclosely as he dared, Frank drifted on, resolved, if the light fell onhim, to start the engine and make a dash at full speed down the strait.
The light took a sudden sweep upwards, swung to the right over the hillsand disappeared. Then Frank realised that the current had failed him.The launch was scarcely moving. He steered for the open channel, edgingout very gradually. No sooner had the launch come again into thecurrent than the light flashed out, just touching a point of land on hisport side, and passing beyond it. It occurred to him that if he couldround the point during the interval of darkness before the light againappeared, he would no longer be in its direct path. It was worth therisk of starting the engine and making a dash over the short distancebetween him and safety. Guided only by the dark outline of the lowwooded cliffs on his left hand, he put the engine at full speed whilethe light was still sweeping the channel. To maintain an even distancefrom the shore he soon found it necessary to keep the helm well over.He must be rounding the point. And when, a minute or two later, thebeam once more flashed out, it passed almost directly over him, leavinghim in shadow. With a sense of profound relief he stopped the engineand floated down with the current, more than satisfied for the moment,but wondering how long his luck would hold.
The launch was now in pitch darkness. Frank knew that there were shoalsalong the shore, and he was beset by a double anxiety: he must steer soas to avoid at once the path of the searchlight and the unknown shoals.So fully was his attention occupied that he had almost forgotten theKurd lying forward. The dark patch which favoured him was favourablealso to an expedient which Abdi had been grimly meditating. Suddenly,while Frank was peering into the darkness ahead, he was conscious that ablack shape had intervened between him and the scarcely perceptiblespace of water. He knew instantly what it was, but before he couldbrace himself for the impending shock the steering-wheel shivered undera sword-cut that missed him by a hairsbreadth, and the Kurd flunghimself upon him, at the same time shouting vociferously to attract theattention of any watchers who might be on shore, or on some vessel nearby. Taking advantage of Frank's preoccupation and the darkness, Abdihad crawled from under the awning and along the deck under the side ofthe little craft, springing to his feet within a few inches of Frank'sseat.
It was the fact of being seated that proved to be Frank's salvation.Abdi lost the advantage of surprise when his sword-cut missed. He fellforward awkwardly. Frank's right hand was pinned beneath the Kurd'sbody, but his left, with which he had held the wheel, was free.Instantly he gripped Abdi's sword-arm above the wrist, and for a fewmoments there was a fierce struggle for position between the two men;Frank striving to free his right hand, and when he had done so, toprevent the Kurd from strangling him with his left arm.
Frank was soon aware that in mere power of muscle he was no match forhis assailant. But he had the firmer position, Abdi being inclinedforward and swaying unsteadily with the rocking of the launch. Suddenlydropping his clutch on the Kurd's upper right arm, he seized him by thethroat, braced himself against the seat, and pulled his left arm towardshim, exerting all his strength to twist him over. With his free righthand Abdi clutched at the thwart; but Frank's leverage against the seatgave him the mechanical advantage; moreover, the Kurd was expending muchenergy in trying to free himself from the pressure on his windpipe.Inch by inch he was pressed back against the side of the launch, everymoment struggling more feebly under Frank's choking clutch. At last hisshoulders were hanging over the water, and his arms were raised as adrowning man throws up his hands. Then suddenly Frank released theKurd's throat, caught him beneath the right knee, and, pressing heavilyon the seat, tilted him overboard. There was a gurgling gasp as the manstruck the water, then a brief silence, broken soon by a long yell. Itwas a cry for help, but not a cry of despair, and Frank, panting fromhis recent exertions, was aware that Abdi could swim. His cries must beheard on shore and on any vessels that might lie in the neighbourhood orbe patrolling the strait. At first their meaning would not be known,but they would give the alarm and put the enemy on the alert, and assoon as Abdi reached the shore the truth would be flashed from fort tofort.
The launch, left to itself during the struggle, had drifted inshore andwas bumping against the rocks.
Frank had just switched on the engineand reversed the screw when an agitated movement of the searchlight andshouts from the cliffs above him showed that an alarm of some sort hadbeen given. The white beam was sweeping the whole breadth of thechannel except that black band which was shielded by the cliffs and inwhich the launch was moving. This band widened as the trend of the shorebecame more south-westerly, and Frank had good hope of running out ofdanger. His confidence was rudely shaken when a second searchlightbegan to play from a point slightly ahead of him. For all he knew theremight be others at different points down the channel. It was neck ornothing now. He put the engine at full speed ahead, and the launchthrobbed and swished through the water.
The coast-line here made a sudden bend inwards. Frank steeredaccordingly, and was relieved to find that by his change of course hejust escaped the searchlight, whose beam flashed almost over his head.The beating of his screw could hardly fail to be heard on shore, no morethan a hundred yards away; but the light could evidently not bedepressed sufficiently to illuminate this edge of the channel. Thelaunch dashed on; the light was left behind; and steering almost duesouth Frank once more felt secure.
But next moment he was startled by the sudden flashing of a light fromthe opposite shore. It swept directly across the channel and movedslowly along, lighting up yard after yard of the white cliffs on hisleft hand. There was no avoiding it, and he felt a strange tingling ashe realised that in a few seconds the light would find him, and he wouldthen become the target for the enemy's guns. So it was. The beamsuddenly overtook him, the launch was vividly illuminated from stem tostern, and the light kept pace with it in its rush down the channel.Frank tried by zigzag steering to wriggle out of it, but it followedevery movement, and he resigned himself to the inevitable.
There was a roar and flash from the western shore. A shell splashedinto the water close astern, but failed to explode. At that moment Frankfelt neither dismay nor fear, but only a strange exhilaration. Shellsbegan to fall fast, now ahead, now astern, and on both sides, someexploding with a terrific noise, others merely splashing into the water."They haven't had practice on moving targets, like our naval gunners,"thought Frank.
Since everything now depended on speed, he steered out into the channel,in order to take full advantage of the current. His change of courseseemed to baulk the gunners. The light grew dimmer as he drew fartherfrom its source, and the gunners, slow in shortening their range, senttheir shells far beyond him. But now a brilliant beam of light struckthe launch from the eastern shore. The searchlight which the cliffs hadpreviously intercepted had free play over the part of the channel onwhich he was now racing. In a few moments shells began to fall morethickly around him. The noise was deafening. Huge waves dashed overthe launch, and Frank wondered whether it was to escape a shot only tobe swamped and sunk by the water. But he clung firmly to the wheel.
Then there was a stunning explosion. The launch staggered as if smittenby a mighty hammer; an immense volume of silvery spray showered upon it.Frank saw that a big gap had been made in the starboard side, a foot ortwo from the stem. But the engine still throbbed steadily, and thelittle craft still thrashed her way at full speed seaward. For a littlethe shelling ceased. The spray had hidden the launch from the view ofthe gunners, who probably supposed that they had sunk her. But theysoon discovered their mistake, and after a ranging shot they startedtheir continuous bombardment again. The brief respite had enabled Frankto gain ground. The launch was less brilliantly illuminated. A lightmist was gathering on the water. The wind had changed and was blowing infrom the mouth of the channel. In a few minutes the shells ceased tofall. The batteries had given him up.
But his satisfaction was short-lived. Above the throbbing of his enginehe became aware of a new sound--the deeper-toned throbbing of a muchmore powerful engine. A new light began to grope through the mist.Frank felt a sinking of heart. Beyond doubt a war vessel of some kindwas in pursuit of him. Outmatched in speed, what could he look for nowbut a sudden end?
The light found him. Instantly the torpedo boat astern opened fire:Frank heard the regular rap-rap of a machine gun. The noise of theengines grew louder: the vessel was bearing down upon him relentlesslylike a sleuthhound. Bullets whizzed, whistled, splashed, thudded on thewoodwork. He felt a burning pang in his right shoulder. Clenching histeeth he held on his course. Despair seized him when another light,this time ahead, mingled its misty beam with that from behind. Betweentwo fires, what could this be but the end? "I'll die game," hemuttered, and steered straight for the torpedo boat which was nowvisible in the lifted light of the vessel behind. In a few seconds hislight craft would strike that iron bow, and then----
But the shock against which Frank had thus steeled himself never came.With his hand still upon the steering-wheel he swooned away.
When Frank opened his eyes again, they lighted upon the ruddyclean-shaven face of a man in a peaked cap and navy blue.
"Where am I?" he murmured.
"In a ward of H.M.S.--no, I mustn't tell you the name, bedad: 'tisagainst the rules, or if it isn't, it might be, so I'll not tell you.But it's a hospital ship, and you've a nice little hole in yourshoulder, and here's the bullet that bored it: perhaps you'd like tolook at it."
Frank took the bullet and looked at it with an air of detachment. Itseemed hardly believable that that cone of lead had been in his fleshand was now out of it.
"But who the deuce are you, in an enemy uniform and all?" the surgeonasked. "No, you haven't it on now, to be sure; but there 'tis, rolledup on the bunk there, and you were in it when they brought you aboard,and you speaking English as well as the rest of us. You can't talk, tobe sure; but who are you? Don't try to talk, but tell me that."
Frank smiled at the rubicund Irishman.
"I feel rather groggy," he said faintly.
"Of course, and who wouldn't? But 'tis a clean wound, and you'll be upand skylarking in a day or two, Mr.----"
"Frank Forester."
"Ah now, that's not a Turk's name, to be sure. Well, don't talk. I cantalk enough for both. When Lieutenant-Commander W----no, I won't namehim--of H.M.S.--won't name _her_--saw a Turkish gunboat firing on a Turkin a neat little cockleshell of a launch, 'Boys,' said he--though I didnot hear him, to be sure--'Boys, drop one in the engine-room.' And sureenough, one of her fore six-pounders planted a shell amidships, andcrippled the Turk's engines, and a couple more sent her to the bottom.Then they hunted for you, and found your launch bumping on the rocksbelow Erenkeui, and you as pale as your shirt (where it wasn't red)hugging your wheel as if you loved it. They took you aboard and handedyou over to me, and I'm to send in a report when I've got from you whoyou are, and who's your father, and the way you come to be playing thefool in a Turk's uniform. But there's no hurry for that. You'll take alittle food, and sleep, and by and by I'll come and see you again, andthen you can give an account of yourself. Now let me have a peep atyour shoulder."