CHAPTER XV

  Recaptured

  FULLY expecting to be challenged and seized by an unseen foe,Hamerton grasped the metal slide with the intention of making a dashfor liberty. As he did so the cover slipped on its groove and closedthe aperture, jamming the Sub's fingers as it did so.

  The pain was acute, but for the time being Hamerton paid slight heedto it. His fingers, numbed by the shock, were powerless to reopen theheavy metal cover.

  Yet no hands grasped his, no hoarse voice demanded his surrender. Helooked down over his shoulder, and the cause of the sudden lightbecame apparent. In his descent he had touched a switch that wasconveniently fixed to a steel upright supporting the dome. Perfectsilence reigned in the place, whatever it might be.

  Disengaging his fingers, Hamerton descended the remaining rungs ofthe ladder. He realized that the accident was a blessing in disguise,for the slamming-to of the cover plate had effectually screened alllight from within. Previous to this some light might have escaped,unless intercepted by his body as he crawled through the manhole.

  The chamber was almost entirely occupied by the mountings of anenormous gun. The muzzle of the weapon disappeared behind aclose-fitting steel shield that effectually prevented any light frombeing seen from seaward. It also prevented the Sub from approximatelymeasuring the length of the gun, but upon opening the breech block hewas able to conclude that the bore was not less than fifteen orsixteen inches. The gun and its enclosed shield were of adisappearing nature, while the loading tray was so constructed thatthe huge weapon could be served in any position.

  At the rear of the loading tray was another opening that uponinvestigation Hamerton found to lead to the mechanism room forelevating the gun and its mounting. Here, too, was the opening to asubterranean passage, but the door was locked. Judging by the tramrails, the Sub concluded that it communicated with the principalmagazine, that must be situated, deep under the ground, somewhere inthe centre of the island.

  "The whole blessed island is honeycombed," he exclaimed. "It's asecond Gibraltar, only much more heavily armed. What a nut for us tocrack when the time comes!"

  Realizing that it was about time to rejoin his companion, the Subascended the ladder, switched off the light, and cautiously removedthe slide. The exertion told him how painful his fingers had become,while he was forcibly reminded of his fall by a peculiar numbingsensation in the nape of his neck.

  Without, the monotonous click of the signal lamp in the hut stillcontinued. The searchlight was now switched on, but the operators hadmade a bad contact of the carbons, for the latter were hissing andspluttering abominably. This was in the Sub's favour, for theattention of the engineers was directed upon their work, and thenoise of the searchlights effectually drowned the slight scrapingsound that Hamerton made as he attempted to scale the walls of thegun pit.

  Thrice he essayed the task. Under ordinary conditions a six-foot wallwould have presented no great obstacle, but his strength had beensapped by his two accidents.

  Round the edge of the dome he crept, till at the part facing the seahe discovered an iron ladder sunk in a recess in the wall, so as notto impede the raising of the armoured gun shield and its contents.

  Gaining the top of the wall Hamerton began to crawl back towards theplace where he had left Detroit. He had little fear of detection fromthe searchlight men: his danger lay in the fact that upon crossingthe beam of light from the open door his silhouetted figure might beseen by a vigilant sentry.

  Fortunately his misgivings were not materialized, and withoutincident he crawled to the place where his anxious comrade wasimpatiently waiting.

  "A sixteen-inch gun over there," whispered the Sub excitedly. "Aregular brute. Tumbled right on top of the anti-aircraft shield."

  "Hurt yourself?"

  "Only shaken a bit. Come on, it's about time we thought of somethingto eat. It was a quarter past one when I was in the gunpit."

  "What's the programme?" asked Detroit.

  "Make for the nearest house. We'll try our hands at amateurburglaring. If we keep midway between the fence and the edge of thecliff we ought to pass halfway between the double row of sentries."

  It took the daring fugitives the best part of an hour to arrive atthe lighthouse, a circular white tower--showing two powerful electriclights every five seconds--rising to a height of two hundred andseventy feet above the sea level. In a recent notice to marinersissued by the German Government it was stated that the lights wereliable not to be shown during the manoeuvres, and plainly hinted thatall merchant vessels should keep as far away as possible.

  A few feet from the base of the tower stood the lighthouse-keepers'houses. The light was attended by German marines, since the fiat hadgone forth that civilians were not to hold any Government post in theisland of Heligoland. The keepers, with their wives and families,still occupied the same quarters as their predecessors, instead ofliving in barracks.

  The problem now before Hamerton and his companion was which of thesix houses was to be honoured by their attentions. It would be ratherawkward to fix upon one where the keeper was spending his off-dutyhours; in fact, an alarm raised in any one of them would inevitablybring speedy aid. But the reason why Hamerton decided upon thelighthouse quarters at all was that their comparative isolation madeit easier to escape.

  All the houses were in darkness. Crouching close to the ground, lesttheir dark figures should show up against the whitewashed walls, thetwo men crept from window to window, cautiously trying thefastenings.

  At the fifth one Hamerton paused.

  "Empty," he whispered. "We're in luck; we'll try the end house."

  It was now raining heavily, while around that exposed position thewind howled dismally. Hardly a night for a dog to be out, yet herewere two men of good social position groping in the rainswept mire intheir quest for food and liberty.

  Hamerton raised himself and peered through one of the windows. A fireburned in the open grate, a dull-red pile of coals. The Sub rightlyconcluded that it had not been touched for several hours. By itsglare he could see rows of well-scoured highly-polished metal potsand pans, doubtless the pride of a thrifty German housewife; and,what was more pleasing, a couple of shelves on which stood bread,cold meat, cheese, and a glass jug half filled with an amber-colouredliquid.

  On either side of the fireplace two high-backed chairs were drawn up.Both were in shadow, being shielded from the glow of the embers by anoutstanding oak mantelpiece. In front of the grate stood a large ironpot, its contents still simmering gently. The Sub could almostimagine that he smelt the savoury odours.

  He tried the window. It was secured by a heavy metal catch. Nothingshort of breaking a pane of glass would enable him to force anentrance. The sight of the eatables was wellnigh irresistible.

  "Try the back," whispered Detroit hoarsely.

  Here, sheltered from the wind and rain, the two chums discovered thata small window had been left unsecured. In a trice Detroit was up onthe Sub's back and was through the narrow opening. Hamerton could nothave done it to save his life, for his whole body was achingpainfully. He had perforce to wait until the American stealthilyunlocked the door.

  Hamerton's first act was to draw a curtain over the window, then thetwo famished men began to wolf the eatables, standing close to thefire to enjoy the comforting glow, the while reckless of theconsequences, for their clothes were steaming like a hard-pressedhorse on a frosty day.

  Suddenly Hamerton touched the American on the shoulder and held up awarning finger. Overhead was a scuffling sound; then thud, thud, thenoise of a heavy person descending the stairs.

  Their retreat was cut off. Hamerton crouched behind one of thearmchairs, Detroit took refuge under the table, and there theywaited, hoping that the newcomer would not notice the depletion ofthe larder.

  The click of the key in the lock and the rasping of the bolts toldthem that either the occupier of the house had imagined that the doorhad been accidentally left unsecured, or else that there werenocturnal intrude
rs--and "the cat was out of the bag".

  Alas for the first theory! The electric light was switched on, andfrom his place of concealment Hamerton could see the skirts and bigcarpet slippers of a portly female.

  One glance was sufficient to show the woman that thieves had been atwork. Stooping, she peered under the table, and Detroit's eyes metthose of one of the fattest women he had ever seen.

  Without raising a shout the woman made a dart for a rifle that stoodin the corner. This she accomplished with considerable agilityconsidering her bulk.

  In one corner of the dresser were several loose cartridges. It wastowards these the woman waddled.

  "Stop her," hissed Hamerton, springing from his place of concealment.He was in time to grab the keeper's wife and prevent her fromobtaining the ammunition, while Detroit grasped the rifle.

  Then ensued a long struggle. The woman was powerful and determined,the intruders, loath to harm a female, did their best to wrench therifle from her without exercising brute force. And the curious partabout it was that the woman from first to last never called for help.

  Finding he could not gain possession of the weapon, the Sub deftlyextracted the bolt and thrust it into his pocket.

  "Be sharp, Detroit," he exclaimed. "Unlock that door. That's right.Now help me to secure this lady. She's deaf and dumb, poor creature.Hand up that curtain cord. You tie her ankles while I keep her fromhitting you over the head with this rifle."

  It was easier said than done. The woman resisted bravely, but atlength the American succeeded in passing the cord round her anklesand drawing it tight. Then by their united efforts the two menlowered her gently on to the stone floor.

  "Now let's cut," said Hamerton. "If anyone in the next house but oneheard the scuffle---- Put the top of that loaf in your pocket beforeyou go."

  Into the blinding rain the fugitives made their way, pausing underthe lee of a low stone wall in order to get accustomed to thedarkness.

  "Now there'll be a rumpus," whispered Detroit. "The best thing we cando is to get back to our quarters under the turntable. Since theplace is well guarded they won't expect to find us there, especiallyas they're bound to know that we've been pillaging one of thekeepers' cottages."

  "That's so," assented Hamerton. "Plucky old woman, that. She wouldhave used that rifle if she had managed to get hold of thosecartridges."

  "She has, I guess!" exclaimed the American, starting to his feet as aloud report came from the house they had just left. The housewife,unable to make herself heard, had contrived to raise herself by meansof the table, seize a cartridge, and throw it on the fire.

  "Run for it," hissed the Sub. "We must risk it."

  Keeping the lighthouse on their right the fugitives bolted, their oneidea being to put a respectable distance between them and thekeepers. Already lights were appearing in the cottages and a babel ofshouts arose, men enquiring what was amiss, and offering varioussuggestions as to the cause of the alarm.

  Soon the deaf-and-dumb woman was released, and by means of signs toldhow she had been molested by the two English spies.

  With that there was a general exodus. The keepers, intent uponwinning the reward issued for the escaped prisoners' arrest, seizedtheir rifles and started in pursuit. Not having the faintest notionof the direction the fugitives had taken, they naturally concludedthat they had made for the Unterland in the hope of being able toseize a boat. All this while Hamerton and Detroit were making towardsthe circular fence surrounding the Zeppelin station.

  "Easy!" whispered the Sub, when they were nearly abreast of SpitzHorn. "We'll be tumbling upon the sentries if we are not careful.They have been warned for a dead cert."

  Before Detroit could reply a tall, dark figure loomed up directly infront of them. A levelled bayonet glinted dully in the dim light anda guttural voice bade them stand on the pain of being instantly shotdown if they resisted.

  Oswald Detroit had not been a full back of his college team to nopurpose. With a sudden panther-like spring he threw himself upon theground right under the levelled bayonet.

  The sentry made a bold attempt to shorten his weapon and lunge at hisantagonist. He was the fraction of a second too late. The American'ssteel-like fingers gripped him round the ankles. His bunched head andshoulders caught the German a tremendous battering-ram-like blow justabove the knees.

  Swept off his feet by the impetus, the sentry fell heavily on theground. As he fell his finger involuntarily pressed the trigger ofhis rifle. There was a deafening report. The bullet whizzed close toHamerton's ear, while he clearly felt the blast of the detonation.

  The sentry, stunned by the fall, lay like a log.

  There was not a moment to be lost. The man's comrades, already on thequi vive, saw the flash and heard the report. The nearmost of thecordon ran to support the fellow who had raised the alarm.

  Throwing themselves on the ground the Sub and his companion crawledin a direction that was practically at right angles to the imaginaryline between the two nearest sentries. As they did so they heard theswish of a man's boots shearing through the long, damp grass.

  Once more luck was in their favour, for the oncoming sentry passedthem within a distance of ten yards. So intent was he upon findinghis comrade that the two men lying prone upon the ground wereunobserved.

  With an exclamation of dismay and astonishment the German stoopedover the body of the insensible soldier. Others came running up, andin the darkness one called attention to a dark object fifty yards orso from him, moving cautiously in the direction of the lighthouse.

  Half a dozen shots rang out. The object, whatever it was, gave aconvulsive spring and collapsed, kicking in its death agonies.

  Off ran the sentries to investigate. They had shot a goat that hadstrayed from one of the adjacent gardens!

  This diversion enabled the fugitives to gain the fence withoutdetection, wriggle under the lowermost barbed wire, and find atemporary respite on the unpatrolled area between the entanglementand the brink of the Zeppelin pit.

  With considerable difficulty the American located the topmost rungsof one of the vertical ladders.

  "Guess I'll go first," he whispered. "You feel game?"

  "Yes," replied the Sub grimly, yet he knew that he had hardly anounce of strength left.

  "Follow on," continued Detroit. "If you feel fagged, give me the wordand I'll hang on to you while you rest."

  Although the descent entailed considerable less exertion than theascent a few hours before, Hamerton could hardly retain his graspupon the slippery steel rungs. His downward motion was purelymechanical. His joints seemed so stiff that a sharp racking pain shotthrough his shoulders every time he lowered an arm to find the nextrung.

  "Here's the horizontal platform," whispered Detroit. "We'll restawhile."

  "No, carry on," begged the Sub, "if I stop I'm afraid I won't be ableto continue. It's only another fifty feet or so."

  "All right!" replied his comrade dubiously. "But, say, shall I carryyou down? hang on my back."

  "I'm too heavy," objected Hamerton. "Carry on. It will soon be over."

  Suddenly Detroit came to a halt, groping aimlessly with his foot forthe next rung.

  "Hold on!" he hissed. "There's some low-down trick here."

  Gripping one side of the ladder as far down as he could he felt withhis free hand. The disconcerting discovery that the lowermost sectionof the ladder had been removed came as a sudden and nerve-rackingshock.

  "Up we go," he exclaimed, with false cheerfulness. "We've struck thewrong ladder. It ends here. We've only to get back to the horizontalplatform."

  Retracing that twenty feet was almost beyond Hamerton's strength. Hadit not been for his companion's aid the Sub would certainly haverelaxed his hold. Utterly exhausted, he threw himself upon the light,steel bridge connecting the vertical ladders, and shivered throughsheer weakness and bodily anguish.

  "Stay here," continued Detroit. "I'll go on a little tour ofinvestigation. When I come back I'll rub your wrists and ankles,
andthen we'll make short work of getting to the ground."

  Stepping over Hamerton's body the American made his way along theface of the cliff. He was filled with vague fears. Something seemedto tell him that all three ladders had been tampered with.

  Just as he gained the part of the bridge immediately above theopening of one of the Zeppelin sheds, every arc lamp in the pit wasinstantaneously lighted.

  Blinded by the sudden and powerful glare the American stoppedstockstill, grasping the light handrail, and vainly attempting toshield his eyes from the intense brilliance of a lamp just beneaththe place where he stood.

  Voices hailed him in an unknown tongue. Their import was plainenough: it was a peremptory summons to surrender.

  He removed his hand from his eyes. He could now see, thoughindistinctly. Fifty feet beneath him and as many yards from the baseof the cliff stood a squad of marines with levelled rifles. Behindthem were three or four officers who had demanded his instantsubmission.

  Detroit had sense enough to realize that the game was up. He raisedhis hands in token of surrender, then deliberately made his way backto where Hamerton stood.

  Luckily for him the officers saw his object, and forbore to ordertheir men to fire. Several sailors came running up, bearing thedisplaced section of the ladder. This they placed in position, andhalf a dozen of them swarmed up to seize their prisoners.

  "It's the fortune of war, old man," exclaimed Hamerton feebly, "butwe've had a very good innings."

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels