The Sea-girt Fortress: A Story of Heligoland

  CHAPTER XXII

  A Momentous Decision

  AT a quarter to five in the afternoon of the same day as the salvageof the derelict Zeppelin was effected, Rex Thompson, the energeticeditor of _The Westminster Daily Record_, was superintending thefinal setting-up of the evening edition.

  The stop-press column was being delayed until the tape machine hadfinished the report of the strange occurrence in the North Sea--how aBritish destroyer had fallen in with and had towed into Harwich oneof the latest type of Zeppelins. Presently the door was flung wideopen, and Gordon Stirling burst into the room.

  "Heard the news?" he asked breathlessly. "The Zeppelin?"

  "Hallo, where did you spring from?" demanded Thompson in even tones."I thought you were supposed to be in Holland?"

  "But the news?" demanded the young "special".

  "Yes, yes, my dear Stirling. I am afraid you are a trifle late."

  Stirling's face fell. It seemed hard lines, after having receivedLieutenant Mallet's assurance that no information would be given tothe Press representatives of Hamerton's presence on the fugitiveairship, that the news should have leaked out. The knowledge that aGerman airship had been brought into Harwich was common property. Itwas impossible to hide a gasbag of nearly a million cubic feetcapacity from the public gaze, but Stirling counted on Mallet's word.The details were, of course, communicated by wireless to theAdmiralty, but _The Westminster Record's_ special was to be themedium whereby the news of Hamerton's hairbreadth escape was to begiven out to the great British Public.

  Stirling dare not telegraph or telephone the momentous news. Insteadhe chartered a powerful car, and in an hour and twenty-five minutesthe chauffeur drew up outside _The Westminster Record's_ offices.

  And then came the crowning disappointment. In bland tones he had beeninformed by his chief that the news he brought was a trifle--just atrifle--late.

  "You might, however, glance at this," continued Thompson, handing himthe typed transcript of the tape message. "If there's anythingimportant to add, let me know."

  The editor, mentally burying himself in a mass of papers, wassuddenly startled by a tremendous crash. Stirling had, in hisexcitement, brought his fist down heavily upon the table, causingThompson's fountain pen to splutter all over a nearly completedleader, while the pastepot and a bottle of red ink indiscriminatelyshed their contents over the latest efforts on the part of _TheWestminster Record's_ parliamentary representative.

  Thompson was on the point of using language that could hardly betermed parliamentary, even in these latter days of politics, whenStirling interrupted him.

  "You haven't got it," he shouted, almost carried away in hisexcitement. "You've missed the whole point. Hamerton's back!"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Hamerton--Hamerton made his escape in the Zeppelin."

  "Fact?" asked Thompson coolly, raising one eyebrow as was his wont.

  "Rather. I saw him."

  "Interviewed him?"

  "No."

  "Silly owl; you've missed the chance of a life-time. Carry on.Scribble half a dozen sticks--no, half a column. I'll get the spaceheld open."

  Stirling was perfectly collected by this time. He wrote as he hadnever written before--at great speed, yet in a lucid, connectedstyle.

  "Here you are, sir," he announced quietly.

  Thompson seized the blue pencil in anticipation. A look of mildsatisfaction that quickly gave way to exuberant delight overspreadhis face as he read. The blue pencil was not required.

  "Well done, Stirling; a straightforward piece of work, and every linefull of life!" he exclaimed, betraying an unwonted enthusiasm. "Now,take my advice: go and get a good square meal, and go to bed early.There'll be nothing doing, as far as you are concerned, tillto-morrow morning."

  Meanwhile Sub-Lieutenant Hamerton, temporarily "rigged out" in muftiobligingly lent by the commander of the _Boxer_, quietly slippedashore at Harwich, took train to town, and with the least possibledelay reported himself at the Admiralty.

  For over two hours he was detained by the First Lord and the FirstSea Lord, both of whom happened by a pure slice of luck to be inWhitehall when the momentous cipher telegram announcing Hamerton'sreturn in the disabled Zeppelin was received.

  "There's an underhand piece of work somewhere," remarked Admiral SirJames Churcher, the First Sea Lord. "Coming on the top of the GermanGovernment's explanation to our ambassador it cannot be regarded asotherwise."

  "I agree with you," said the First Lord. "This affair will ultimatelybe settled by the Navy, Churcher, of that I feel sure."

  "Unless Germany climbs down."

  "She won't; it will be a hard fight to the finish. These Teutons areof very much the same characteristics as ourselves, remember. Ofcourse, diplomatic negotiations may put off the evil day, but afterthe way our Foreign Office has been utterly fooled I don't put muchfaith in that prospect. By the by, Mr. Hamerton, you mentioned thatyou found a German confidential book on torpedoes. What became ofit?"

  "I had it, but it was found when the yacht was searched, sir."

  "H'm! I suppose that made it all the worse for you?"

  "I hardly know, sir. It seemed as if they had made up their minds tocondemn us long before the actual trial."

  "Did you make any notes?"

  "Of what, sir?"

  "Of the contents of the torpedo manual."

  "No, sir; there was not time."

  "Unfortunate," remarked Admiral Churcher. "The range of thenew-pattern Schwartz-Kopff torpedo is considerably greater than thatof our improved Whitehead. There is a rumour--we cannot obtainconfirmation--that its maximum range is twelve miles. It all dependsupon the motive power. Of course this is an important advantage, sofar as Germany is concerned, and it is a great pity that we failed toobtain the secret, once the book was in your possession, Mr.Hamerton. I realize, however, that it was due to no fault of yours."

  Hamerton bowed.

  "I congratulate you once again," continued the First Sea Lord, "onyour escape. For the next two days you ought to rest, but I fear theexigencies of the Service will not permit. So be prepared to findyour appointment posted in the course of forty-eight hours or so."

  The Sub took his leave. In the anteroom he rejoined his father, who,on receipt of a telegram, had hastened to meet his son; and the twomade their way towards the main entrance.

  "Here is Mr. Hamerton," said the uniformed messenger, addressing ashort, thick-set individual, whose face bore a smile of anticipatedpleasure.

  "Mr. Hamerton?" he asked.

  "Yes; but you have the advantage of me."

  "Oh, I'm Stirling! I've seen you at a distance, you know, only----"

  "Glad to meet you, Mr. Stirling," said the Sub warmly. "I know whoyou are now, right enough. You're the fellow who discovered thatDetroit and I were prisoners on the island of Heligoland."

  "Didn't do much good, I'm afraid," added Stirling modestly. "You gotaway independent of that. But this is what I want to see you about,"holding out a small paper parcel. "I found it stowed away on the_Diomeda_. It's a torpedo book."

  "You did, by Jove!" exclaimed Hamerton. "Stirling, you have done anational service. I thought the book had been found by the Germanofficer who searched the yacht. Stand by in the waiting-room for afew minutes longer, Pater; I'm going to take Mr. Stirling in to seethe First Lord."

  It would be no exaggeration to affirm that the whole of theEnglish-speaking inhabitants of the globe were agitated by theastounding escape of Sub-Lieutenant Hamerton from captivity.

  In America anti-German sentiments rose high, while urgentrepresentations were made to the Capitol that an emphatic demand forDetroit's release should be instantly sent to Berlin.

  Both in Great Britain and the United States it was realized that aninternational crisis was imminent. Consols dropped lower than theyhad ever been known to fall before. The American Pacific Fleet wasordered to pass through the Panama Canal and join the AtlanticSquadron at a rendezvous off Cape Hatteras, and await
orders.Simultaneously the British Fleet, that for years past had been placedon a war footing, was unostentatiously mobilized; the Portsmouth,Portland, and Devonport ships being ordered to concentrate at theNore, while the Third and Fourth Squadrons of the Home Fleet weresent to Cromarty Firth.

  For the present nothing more could be done without indirectlychallenging Germany to settle the matter by the arbitrament of war.Diplomatic relations were yet to be given one more chance, in thehope of allaying the enmity between the great rivals for seasupremacy.

  General Heinrich von Wittelsbach had been once more hurriedlysummoned to Berlin. With a heavy heart he set out to meet hisimperial master. Fate had indeed treated him badly, though no lessthan his high-handed actions--done, according to his views, in theinterest of the Fatherland--demanded. Not only had he failed to keepone of the alleged spies under lock and key; he was threatened withignominy. It seemed impossible for him to explain satisfactorily thereason for deceiving the Emperor, who, on his assurances, hadimperiously replied to the British and American Ambassadors' Note.There was also the humiliation of having lost one of the latestZeppelins, which Great Britain was keeping under the pretext that itwas unfit to be towed back to Heligoland, but in reality as ahostage.

  "General, you have been over-hasty," was the Emperor's greeting, "Imight say over-zealous."

  "Sire, I regret deeply----"

  "One moment, Von Wittelsbach," said his Imperial sovereign. "Beforeyou start offering regrets would it not be better to give us yourversion of this affair--the true version, mind? What say you, VonRhule?"

  Von Rhule, the Chancellor, who was the only person present at theinterview, merely inclined his head. He was a man of few words, buthe had a will of which even his master stood in awe. His policy wasnot only "Germany for the Germans", not merely a desire for "a placein the sun", but a determination to make the German Empire thepredominant nation on land and sea. Although his rise to power hadbeen of comparatively recent date, he was beginning to be recognizedas a super-Bismarck. If Bismarck were described as a man of blood andiron, Von Rhule's ambition was to be regarded as a man of brains andsteel. Needless to say, he was an Anglophobe. One of the fewdisappointments of his hitherto brief career was the failure of hisagents to provoke a quarrel between the United States and GreatBritain over Mexican affairs. He placed very little reliance upon theTriple Alliance. His idea was to set Austria against Russia andengineer a war between France and Italy. Germany, standing aloofduring the struggle between the two pairs of combatants, could thenafford to dictate to the victors of the exhausting war.

  Heinrich von Wittelsbach had the acumen to perceive that the Emperorwas inclined to treat the Hamerton and Detroit incident in anindulgent way. In a blunt, soldier-like fashion the commandant of thegarrison of Heligoland told his story, omitting no important pointand offering no excuses.

  "Now, General, your motive?" demanded the Emperor.

  "Sire, my motive was simply the great desire of my career: tosafeguard the output of the Empire against all attempts on the partof foreign powers to steal the results of patience and diligence onthe part of the German nation. I have freely admitted that my initialact in hastily placing those men under arrest was an error."

  "And therefore you hoped, by piling error upon error, to remedy youroriginal fault?"

  "Solely in the interests of Your Majesty, sire."

  "And have placed me in a quandary. Germany must either become thelaughing-stock of the whole world or else command respect at thepoint of the sword. Look at the present state of this affair. TheEnglish are clamouring for war. History will tell you that theirancestors demanded and obtained a declaration of hostilities againstSpain simply on account of the loss of a man's ear. I know them; theyare a peculiar nation. Their ministers of state are ever proclaimingtheir desire for peaceable relations with us; yet, in spite of theirvaunted boast to act fairly and squarely with all the world, theywould deny us the right to develop as a healthy nation ought andmust. Am I not right, Von Rhule?"

  "Yes, sire. Take the latest case in point--Damaraland."

  The Emperor's brow darkened. He remembered the incident only toowell. A few months ago two Alsatian recruits had been drafted withothers to German South Africa. The men, bullied and ill-treated bytheir officers, deserted and escaped into Walfisch Bay. The Germanofficer in command dispatched troops in pursuit, and the latter,possibly unwittingly, entered British territory. A native, refusingto give information, was ordered to be beaten, and in retaliation anumber of Kroomen stoned the German soldiers. Meanwhile the Britishauthorities refused to give up the deserters on the grounds that theywere political refugees, and ordered them to be sent on to Cape Town.

  For a few moments the Emperor looked fixedly at the Chancellor, thenin low, emotional tones he asked:

  "Are we ready?"

  "Yes, sire; to the last----"

  "Stop!" exclaimed the Emperor. "Was not a similar reply given to theEmperor of the French half a century ago? You know what that led to?Have we the Reichstag solidly at our backs?"

  "All, sire, except the Socialists on the extreme left. But they neednot be taken into account. Later on they will be dealt with as theirstubbornness merits."

  "Then there is the possibility, nay, probability, of a rupture withthe United States?"

  "True, sire; but give us four clear days and Great Britain will behumiliated; her navy will be almost utterly destroyed. Our destroyerflotillas could then lie in wait for the American fleet, and it willbe a case of Tsussima over again."

  "You are sanguine, Von Rhule."

  "Assuredly, sire. Everything is in our favour. Take the English fleetat the present time. Nine battleships and battle-cruisers are underrepair in the various dockyards, eleven battleships and theirattached craft are now in the Mediterranean, eight days' steamingfrom the Straits of Dover. Thus we have a predominance in battleshipsin the North Sea, to say nothing of the surprise attack ourdestroyers and submarines are able to deliver. Our aerial fleetalso----"

  "One Zeppelin of which is at present in the hands of the English."

  "True, sire, but an aerial fleet will be able to inflict enormousdamage to the docks of the east coast of England; perhaps even Londonmay be reduced to a heap of ruins."

  "Your words smack too much of the word 'perhaps', Von Rhule."

  "My perhaps, sire, means a certainty," said the Chancellor grimly.

  "You are omitting the element of chance."

  "There is no need to make allowances for chance, sire. Ourpreparations are made so as to be independent of that."

  The Kaiser still hesitated, and Von Rhule noted his master'sindecision.

  "Sire," he continued, "never again will such an opportunity presentitself. By next year these English will have five new battleships incommission, without counting four built for foreign Governments andwhich they can press into their service. Thanks to our friends theSocialists on the extreme left, our expenditure is limited to theconstruction of only three large ships of war. The people aregroaning under the imposts: it will be unwise to press them byadditional taxation. Our destiny lies on the sea. You, sire, know itwell. Throw away the chance of achieving our dominant end, and neveragain will a like opportunity present itself."

  "What say you, Von Wittelsbach?"

  "Sire, I can but entirely agree with what Count von Rhule hasspoken."

  "So be it," concluded the Emperor. "We will summon a meeting of theSupreme War Council this afternoon."