CHAPTER IV
THE SPY
"FIFTEEN metres fine grey sand, Herr Kapitan."
Ober-leutnant Hans von Preugfeld, commanding officer of U 247, wastypically Prussian in his thoroughness. Carefully he examined thesand adhering to the "arming" of the lead line that the leadsman heldup for his inspection.
He grunted a sort of congratulatory reply and, turning his back uponthe black oilskinned seaman, addressed himself to thesecond-in-command.
"Good, Eitel!" he exclaimed. "We are not far from the spot. Butcaution the men to keep their ears open and to stop running atintervals. I am in no mood to fall in with any of those hornets, nordo I want an English destroyer cutting us in twain."
Eitel von Loringhoven, unter-leutnant of the Imperial GermanSubmarine Service, nodded his head comprehendingly. He, too, fullyrealised the perils that beset pirate _unterseebooten_, for, despiteall possible precautions, Germany's under-water fleet was in a badway. It came home to him in a very personal manner, too, for he wasthe last survivor of five brothers who had gone out into the NorthSea mists at the behest of Admiral von Tirpitz. Four had neverreturned. Of the manner of their demise he was in total ignorance.Perhaps some day, if he survived the period of hostilities, theBritish Admiralty might enlighten him, but until then his knowledgeof how four von Loringhovens simply vanished was merely a matter forconjecture. And the very mystery of it all was both nerve-racking andterrifying not only to Eitel von Loringhoven but to every officer andman serving in the _unterseebooten_ flying the dishonoured BlackCross Ensign.
Throughout the day U 247 had been feeling her way through fog ofvarying intensity by aid of compass, lead line, and patent log.Whenever the thud of the engines of an approaching vessel was heardthe U-boat submerged promptly and without ceremony. Although five outof every six vessels that passed within audible distance were of theBritish Mercantile Marine, U 247 made no effort to ascertain thatthey were not warships. The risk of closing with any craft in the fogwas too great, for, although the U-boat could shell an unarmedmerchantman with impunity, she had long learnt to respect bothmen-of-war and armed merchant ships.
Von Preugfeld had vivid recollections of the s.s. _Contraption_, asix-knot tramp two hours out of Grimsby. He had had information froman unimpeachable source that the _Contraption_ was unarmed, that shecarried munitions for Archangel, and that she expected to join aconvoy off Flamborough Head.
With these facts in his possession, the ober-leutnant showed far lessdiscretion than he usually exercised. Unable to resist a chance ofplaying upon the nerves of the crew of the English ship, he brought U247 to the surface, and at reduced speed maintained a position a barecable's length from the tramp's starboard bow.
Therein he made a great mistake. He had completely underrated thestubborn courage of the British Mercantile Marine.
Hard-a-port went the _Contraption's_ helm. Barely had the crew of theU-boat time to scurry below and submerge at record speed when thetramp's forefoot rasped athwart the U-boat's deck. It was a nearthing, as the moisture on von Preugfeld's ashen-grey featurestestified.
Twenty minutes later U 247 rose to the surface, and at a safedistance shelled her antagonist and sent her to the bottom; but theU-boat had to "leg it" back to Wilhelmshaven with her pumps goingcontinuously to keep down the water that oozed through ominous dentsin her hull.
"Ten metres, Herr Kapitan."
"Any signs of the lighthouse?" he demanded.
"None, Herr Kapitan."
"Keep her at that," continued the ober-leutnant. "Inform me when youstrike eight metres, unless you sight the headland before that."
Running just awash, and with her surface motors well throttled down,U 247 held on until the look-out man gave the much desiredinformation:
"Land right ahead, Herr Kapitan. A white lighthouse two points on ourstarboard bow."
It was now close on sunset. A partial lifting of the fog revealed ata distance of about a mile a serrated ridge of dark cliffsculminating in a bold promontory crowned by the massive squat towerof a lighthouse. There was no need for von Preugfeld to verify thestatement by means of his reflex glasses. He rapped out a curt order,and the U-boat swung round through eight points of the compass andsettled down to a course south-south-west, or parallel with theforbidding shore.
"Tell von Preussen to hold himself in readiness," said von Preugfeld,addressing the unter-leutnant. "If he is not set ashore withinforty-five minutes, I will accept no further responsibility in thematter."
Von Loringhoven clicked his heels and saluted.
"Very good, Herr Kapitan," he replied. "Von Preussen is even nowchanging into the accursed English uniform. Ach, here he is."
The ober-leutnant wheeled abruptly to see standing within three pacesof him a tall, thickly built man wearing a khaki uniform.
"So you are ready?" remarked von Preugfeld, not with any degree ofcordiality. Truth to tell, he was not at all keen about thisparticular undertaking, namely, to set ashore a German spy disguisedas a British officer. "Well, I suppose your get-up will pass muster,von Preussen? If it does not, I fancy you'll be in a tighter holethan ever you've been before."
"I can look after myself, I think, Herr Kapitan," replied the spy. "Ican assure you that from my point of view my work ashore will bechild's play to the time I spent on board your vessel. Ach! I do nothesitate to confess that I am not of a disposition suitable for_unterseebooten_ work. It appals me."
The ober-leutnant shrugged his shoulders.
"It will help you to appreciate the perils that we undergo for thehonour of the Fatherland," he observed. "Perhaps, on your return, youmight communicate your views on the subject to the Chief of Staff.Our task grows more difficult every day. The men, even, are showingsigns of discontent, thereby magnifying our dangers. But,there--better come below and let von Loringhoven and me have a finalkit inspection; and at the same time we may join in a bottle ofRhenish wine and drink to the success of our joint enterprise."
The kapitan having enjoined a petty Officer to maintain a vigilantwatch, led the way, followed by von Preussen, the unter-leutnantbringing up the rear, and the three adjourned to a narrow,complicated compartment that served as a ward-room. In spite ofscientific apparatus for purifying the air, that confined spacereeked abominably. Everything of a textile nature was saturated withmoisture, while the metal beams, although coated with corkcomposition, exuded drops of rust-tinged water.
In the glare of the electric lamps Karl von Preussen stood stifflyerect, clad in the uniform of a captain of the British Royal AirForce. In height he was about five feet eight, broad of build, andwith decidedly Anglo-Saxon features. He could speak English fluentlyand colloquially, and thanks to a British Public School education,followed by a three years' appointment in a London shipping office,he was well acquainted with the peculiarities and customs of acountry that was Germany's chief enemy.
Long before August 1914 von Preussen had been a spy. One might saythat the seeds of the dishonourable profession were germinatingduring his school-days: they were certainly decidedly active when hewas occupying an ill-paid post in Threadneedle Street, where hismodest pound a week was augmented by sundry substantial sums paid inBritish gold but emanating from Berlin.
The outbreak of hostilities found von Preussen fully prepared. Posingas one of the principals of a steel factory, he practically had anentry to every British Government establishment. Armed with forgeddocuments, he was not for one moment suspected. From Scapa Flow tothe Scillies, and from Loch Swilly to Dover, his activities broughtvaluable information to the Imperial Government. Within a week of themining of a British Dreadnought--a calamity that the Admiralty vainlyattempted to conceal--von Preussen had conveyed details andphotographs of the lost vessel to Berlin, and on the followingmorning the German Press published illustrated reports of a "secret"known throughout the world.
When occasion offered, von Preussen did not hesitate to commit actsof sabotage. More than once, disguised as a munition worker, he wasinstrumental in the destruct
ion of a shell factory, while it was hewho gave instructions and furnished material to the noted spy OttoOberfurst in order that the latter could and did destroy the cruiser_Pompey_ in Auldhaig Harbour.
The stringent passport restrictions placed upon all travellers to andfrom Great Britain considerably curtailed von Preussen's activities.The difficulty of making a sea passage to the Continent was almostinsurmountable. Once, indeed, the spy essayed to fly, and was withinan ace of success, when the stolen machine crashed. Fortunately forthe spy, the accident happened in an unfrequented spot, and being butslightly injured he contrived to get away; but the mystery of theabandoned machine puzzled the brains of the Air Ministry for months.Von Preussen returned to the Fatherland via Bergen, disguised as afireman on board a Norwegian tramp.
The spy had not long been in Berlin before he was peremptorilyordered off on another "tour." The Hun High Command knew how to getthe best out of their secret service agents, and since Karl vonPreussen had been a success his employers kept him running at highpressure. Accordingly, armed with instructions to report upon variousBritish air stations, and to obtain accurate information respectingthe bombing 'planes known to be building for the express purpose ofblowing Berlin to bits, the spy was sent on board U 247, thecommander of which was furnished with orders to land his passenger onthe east coast of Scotland.
"Here's to your venture, von Preussen!" exclaimed Ober-leutnant vonPreugfeld, as he raised his glass. "Your health."
With a profusion of "Hoch, hoch, hoch!" their glasses clicked and thetoast was drunk. Then, tightening the belt of his trench-coat, thespy ascended the ladder and gained the deck.