The Sea-girt Fortress: A Story of Heligoland

  CHAPTER XXI

  Good Old Hamerton!

  SMITH'S first act was to put the helm hard down, but so fierce wasthe wind and so stunning the blows of the steep, crested waves thatthe yacht soon lost way. She wallowed sluggishly in the trough of thesea, cascades of water pouring over her on all sides. A crash, justaudible above the roar of the elements, announced that one of thepanes of the cabin skylight had been broken.

  "Up with the mizen!" shouted the skipper.

  There was no time to reef the sail. Staggering upon the wedge-shapedpart of the deck abaft the mizen-mast, Smith tore frantically at thesail-tyers, while the boom charged to and fro with the force of asledge-hammer as far as the scope of the sheet permitted.

  Wellnigh breathless he regained the cockpit.

  "Haul up!" he bawled.

  Flapping with a series of whip-like cracks the stout canvas washoisted. The men expected every moment to see the sail split asunderand the mast go bodily over the side. It was with feelings of reliefthat they saw the sorely pressed craft swing round head to windwithout the threatened calamities taking place.

  "We're all right for a bit," gasped Smith. "Where's the _Boxer_?"

  As he spoke a searchlight flashed out of the darkness. For a fewmoments it swung in a more or less horizontal direction, as far asthe erratic motion of the destroyer permitted; but as soon as thebeam fell upon the _Diomeda_ the light was immediately screened.

  "They've picked us up," said Stirling. "They'll stand by us."

  Again the searchlight threw out its rays, and to the astonishment ofboth men they saw revealed the British destroyer less than a quarterof a mile away. In the brilliant light the _Boxer_ could be seenplugging her bows into the vicious waves. The spindrift was flyinghigh over her four squat funnels, cascades of foam were pouring fromher fo'c'sle deck, while, owing to the greatly reduced speed, she wasrolling like a barrel.

  Then the mysterious searchlight vanished, leaving Smith and hiscomrade blinking in the darkness.

  "What vessel was that?" asked Stirling.

  "Hanged if I know and hanged if I care," replied Smith. "Where's thatlamp? There's the _Boxer_ signalling."

  Throughout the whole of the hazardous period the flashing lamp in thecockpit was still intact. Bracing himself against the swayingmizen-mast the skipper of the _Diomeda_ replied by a few shortflashes.

  Slowly and deliberately the message was flashed from the destroyer,for the naval men knew that the average yachtsman is more or less ofa duffer at Morse signalling.

  "Ride to sea-anchor if you have one. Keep your lights burning;traffic about. Will stand by you."

  "I understand," was Smith's reply, after the message had been roughlyjotted down and transcribed by the aid of a codebook.

  Within ten minutes the yacht was riding to her sea-anchor. Themotion, as compared with the straining and plunging while under tow,was fairly easy, and after lashing an awning over the broken skylightthe crew of the _Diomeda_ were able to "stand easy".

  "I'm sorry I snapped you up," remarked the skipper slowly.

  "Didn't know that you did."

  "But I did. Don't you remember my saying something about being hangedif I cared, when you asked me what vessel that was that was flashingher searchlight?"

  "After all, it was a silly question," rejoined Stirling. "How couldyou be expected to know any more than I should?"

  "I believe I do know, though," asserted Smith. "Look away on our porthand. Do you see those patches of misty light on the sky?"

  "Well?"

  "They're searchlights playing on the clouds. Evidently the Heligolandtorpedo flotilla are engaged in night manoeuvres; to me it seems likea trial of aircraft versus submarines and destroyers."

  "And the vessel that turned her searchlight on the _Boxer_? Shewasn't sky hunting?"

  "No; not just then. You see, she spotted the navigation lights of the_Boxer_ and the _Diomeda_, and was naturally curious. But there shegoes!" As Smith spoke a narrow ray of light flashed verticallyupwards at apparently less than two miles away to the southward.Then, describing an ever-widening spiral, the beam searched theclouds for a considerable time, till, having satisfied herself thatthe object which she was in search of was not within range of thesearchlight, the foreign warship screened the light and made off.

  "Let's get below; it's fairly habitable," suggested Stirling. "I'mmighty hungry; and even these oilskins seem to strike cold."

  "Very well; you go," was the reply. "I'll stick here till daybreak.It can't be much longer, and I fancy the wind is dropping a lot."

  "It is, but it was thick while it lasted. We must have struck thetail-end of a summer hurricane." With that Stirling went below,divested himself of his oilskins, and proceeded to mop up the saltwater from the cabin floor. This done he made coffee, handing out acup to his comrade in the cockpit.

  "How goes it?" he asked.

  "Dawn's breaking; seas going down rapidly," replied the skipperoptimistically. "The searchlights haven't been showing for the bestpart of half an hour."

  "_Boxer_ still standing by, I hope?"

  "Rather. I can just see her outlines against the sky. It will bequite light in twenty minutes."

  As soon as the grey light in the north-eastern sky was strong enoughto enable things to be seen with sufficient clearness the _Boxer_bore up to leeward of the yacht. By means of a megaphone thelieutenant-commander shouted to Smith to get the sea-anchor aboard,and prepare to be taken in tow.

  This, by reason of the sea that was still running fairly high, was adifficult task, and by the time the yacht was again wallowing asternof the destroyer it was a quarter to five.

  For the next two hours good progress was made. Almost momentarily thewaves grew calmer, so that the _Boxer_ was able without undue risk toher charge to increase speed to twelve knots. Never before had thestanch old yacht travelled at that rate. Her following wave was asight to behold, towering and threatening to break inboard over herpointed stern, yet never able to overtake her. After the night ofanxiety both men found the motion most exhilarating, and there wasevery chance of sighting Old England's shores well before noon.

  Suddenly Stirling grasped his companion's arm, then pointed to anobject well above the skyline on the starboard bow.

  "Where's the telescope?" asked Smith. "I believe it's an airship."

  With some difficulty, owing to the motion of the yacht, the skippergot the glass to bear.

  "It is," he affirmed. "And a thundering big one."

  "One of ours?"

  "I don't think so. The British ones show a dull yellow or light brownwith the sun shining on them. This chap's a peculiar shade of grey.I'll semaphore to the _Boxer_ and ask if they've spotted her."

  But before Smith could get the two hand-flags from the signal lockerthe destroyer's gunner, followed by three seamen, came running aft.

  Steadying himself by the wire rail, the warrant-officer raised amegaphone to his lips.

  "We're going to cast you adrift,"' he shouted. "Make sail and steersou'-sou'-west. There's a foreign airship in difficulties. We're offto investigate. Will return and pick you up later."

  "Aye, aye," shouted Smith. "What nationality is she?"

  The gunner shook his head and tapped the megaphone suggestively.Without its aid conversation was inaudible.

  Hardly had Smith cast off the hawser and the crew of the _Boxer_gathered it aboard when the destroyer set off at full speed in orderto intercept the drifting airship.

  Having set staysail, jib, and mizen, the skipper of the _Diomeda_shaped a course as indicated by the _Boxer_, while Smith's telescopewas brought into constant use by one or the other of the crew.

  "She's descending," announced Stirling. "By Jove, she'll fall intothe sea in a minute--no, she's steady. They have evidently emptiedthe water-ballast tanks. Here, you take the telescope."

  The _Boxer_ had apparently come within the proper distance of theairship, for although it was almost an impossibility to gaugerelative distances through a telescope
, Stirling could see thedestroyer circling to starboard.

  "They've got a line on board," he declared excitedly. "The airship isturning head to wind. The _Boxer_ is returning. I say, what luck forthe _Westminster Daily Record_! 'Exciting salvage of a Zeppelin by aBritish destroyer in the North Sea--by our Special Correspondent.'How will that look?"

  "I shall be able to look the better if you'll kindly hand me thetelescope," said Smith grimly. "Thanks! I am a rotter though. If Ihad only had the forethought to bring a camera--can't be helped.She's badly damaged, I can see. No one on board. Yes, there is, byJove. There's a fellow in a greatcoat standing just in front of themidship car, or whatever they call it."

  Nearer and nearer came the destroyer, with the Zeppelin straining andseesawing at the end of a hawser against the fairly stiff breeze.Presently the semaphore on the _Boxer's_ bridge began to work.

  As soon as Smith made the acknowledgment he seized a pencil andjotted down the movements of the signal arms; then by the aid of adiagram in the signal book he deciphered the message.

  "Carry on under sail. Cannot take you in tow. Have sent by wirelessto Harwich for assistance."

  "I understand," replied the _Diomeda's_ skipper by semaphore; thentaking up the telescope he directed it towards the airship.

  "'GREAT SCOTT!' HE EXCLAIMED; 'IT'S HAMERTON'"]

  The Zeppelin was now less than half a mile off. By the aid of theglass Smith could see the solitary figure on the suspended platform.

  "Great Scott," he exclaimed, "it's Hamerton!"

  "Never!"

  "Fact. I can see him as plain as a pikestaff."

  "Hurrah!" shouted Stirling. "Now what price the German Government'sexplanations? And, old man, what a scoop! _The Westminster_ first,the rest nowhere. Good Old Hamerton!"