The Sea-girt Fortress: A Story of Heligoland

  CHAPTER IV

  Arrested

  THE bump of some heavy object against the yacht's side caused bothsleepers to wake simultaneously. It was day; a dull light filteredthrough the skylight, though not strong enough to be caused by thesun. The _Diomeda_ was rocking sluggishly in the slight swell as sherode to her cable.

  "Eight o'clock, by Jove!" exclaimed Hamerton drowsily; "anddrizzling with rain, I fancy. What was that noise?"

  "We won't find out by lying here," said Detroit, setting the exampleby springing out of his cot. As he did so came the unmistakable soundof a boathook engaging the little craft's rigging screws, and aperemptory voice hailed in German.

  "Custom-house people. They're early," announced the Sub. "It won't doto keep those gentlemen waiting, so I will interview them in mypyjamas."

  Pulling back the sliding hatch, and pushing open the half-doors,Hamerton went on deck. Lying alongside was a grey cutter manned byseamen whose cap ribbons and blue-and-white jerseys, showing betweenthe V-shaped opening of their jumpers, betokened them to beman-o'-warsmen of the Kaiser's navy. In the stern sheets sat twofair-haired officers--their chief characteristics fiercely upturnedmoustaches.

  "What ship is that?" asked the elder of the two officers, whosegold-lace distinction marks showed that he was alieutenant-commander.

  "Yacht _Diomeda_," replied Hamerton promptly.

  "You are foreigners?"

  "Yes, British."

  "Said I not so, Heinrich?" said the senior officer to his companionin a tone of triumph. "Ach! Why have you not your ensign hoisted onthe mainmast-head? Why, indeed, are you flying no ensign at all? Doyou know this is a forbidden anchorage?"

  To reply to this battery of questions, rapped out with a harshguttural voice, was a matter of difficulty to Hamerton, whoseacquaintance with the German language was somewhat limited.Accordingly he solved the difficulty by answering the last.

  "I did not know this is a forbidden anchorage, Herr Lieutenant. Thatbeing so, I will change into more suitable attire, and shift my berthas soon as possible."

  "What does he want, Jack?" asked the American, who had just appearedfrom the cabin.

  "We've got to clear out. By Jove, we've tumbled into the anchorageoff Heligoland!"

  For a glance towards the lofty red sandstone rock, fringed with abelt of dazzling white sand and capped by the brilliant hue of thegrass, recalled to the Sub the old Frisian rhyme--

  "Gron is dat Land, Rohd de Kant, End witt de Sand-- Dat is dat Wapen von Helgoland"

  ("Green is the land, Red the cliff, And white the sand-- These form the arms of Heligoland")

  --as shown by the colours of the old Victorian postage stamps of theisland.

  "Stop!" exclaimed the German officer peremptorily. "You must not gobelow."

  "Why not?" asked Hamerton coolly. "It is none too warm or pleasantstanding out here in----"

  And not knowing the German for "pyjamas", he pointed meaningly at thethin pink-and-white garment he wore.

  "By order. You must not go below," replied the officer. "You willenter this boat, to be taken to be interviewed by the commandant ofthe fortress."

  "But----" began Detroit indignantly.

  "We can explain everything," said Hamerton. "We'll come out with youdirectly we get our clothes."

  With that the Sub turned his back on the representatives of theImperial German Navy, and made a step towards the companion hatchway,with a view to making himself more presentable and better attired forthe depressing atmospheric conditions.

  This laudable intention was nipped in the bud by a couple ofbluejackets jumping out of their boat and agilely scrambling upon the_Diomeda's_ cabin top.

  For an instant Jack Hamerton's eyes glinted ominously. He was withinan ace of knocking the intruders overboard but, recalling that suchan act might be disastrous to his comrade and himself, he controlledhis feelings with a strong effort.

  "It's no use resisting, old man," said he to Detroit, who wasbeginning to follow the drift of things. "They have put us underarrest for contravening some silly regulation. We've got to go ashorein their boat. Hang it! How can a fellow stand on his dignity whenhe's rigged out in pink-and-white pyjamas?"

  "Enter the boat instantly," ordered the German officer. "Your clotheswill be handed to you."

  The two members of the _Diomeda's_ crew stepped into the boat. One ofthe officers boarded the yacht, and, accompanied by a seaman, enteredthe cabin. Presently the latter reappeared bearing an assortment ofclothing.

  Detroit grabbed his trousers and felt in his pockets.

  "They have taken possession of my purse!" he exclaimed.

  "And mine too!" added the Sub, after a hasty examination. "And mypocketbook and cigarette case! Here, this won't do!"

  "Give way!" ordered the German officer.

  "Stop!" said Hamerton. "Before we go we want our purses and otherpersonal property that have been taken from our pockets."

  "It is unnecessary," was the reply. "There will be no need for you tohave money ashore."

  The oars dipped and the boat glided towards a stone pier, leaving thejunior officer and two men in possession of the _Diomeda_.

  Hamerton made good use of his eyes during the passage. By a purefluke the _Diomeda_ had entered the newly completed artificialharbour, and was anchored within fifty yards of the nearest of atriple line of grey torpedo-boat destroyers. Beyond them, and closerinshore, were more than twenty of the latest type of Germansubmarines, vessels of slightly over twelve hundred tons, and capableof action within a radius of seven hundred miles. One peculiarity heespecially noticed: in addition to the twin periscopes there werefour slender cylinders of almost the same height, although inclinedat various angles with the deck.

  So keen was his interest that the German officer leant forward andtapped him on the shoulder.

  "You are forbidden to look about you," he said.

  "All right, my attentive fire-eater," mused the Sub. "You've caughtme napping. I ought not to have let you see that I was curious. Allthe same, I think I know what those tubes are for. If they are notpneumatic guns for discharging aerial torpedoes from a submergedsubmarine, I'll eat my hat."

  Nevertheless Hamerton ignored the lieutenant's order, although heconcealed to some extent the fact that he was making extraordinarilygood use of his powers of observation.

  The face of the cliff was bristling with heavy ordnance, some of theguns being at least equal to the heaviest weapons mounted on the_Royal Sovereign_ and her sisters--the latest completed battleshipsof the British Navy. As the boat drew nearer, the Sub coulddistinguish numbers of quick-firers mounted on the edge of theprecipitous sides of the island, with searchlights on covered standsa short distance in the rear of the guns; while to prevent thepossibility of unauthorized persons landing and scaling the cliffs, aformidable barbed-wire fence, projecting at an acute angle, renderedany attempt in that direction a total failure.

  All the while Hamerton and his American friend were scrambling intotheir clothes, and by the time the boat ran alongside a shelteredstone jetty they found themselves "rigged out" in a medley ofgarments. Detroit was accommodated with one of his comrade's flannelshirts, since the German officer had not exercised any discriminationin the hurried selection of the garments. Hamerton, unable to buttona waistcoat over his broad chest--for the two waistcoats providedboth belonged to Detroit--gave up the attempt, and devoted hisattention to his footgear. This was made up of two old tennis shoesthat the Sub used for rough work on board, and one sock that had theday before been utilized as a "swab" for mopping up a capsizedparaffin lamp.

  "Say, this is hardly the rig for Coney Island!" exclaimed Detroit."Guess we look like a pair of hoboes."

  "I'll kick up a fuss about this, by Jove!" ejaculated the Subfuriously. "Directly I----"

  "Silence!" interrupted the German lieutenant, mistaking Hamerton'sattitude for a display of "bluff" on the part of a spy caughtredhanded. "It is forbidden!"

  "Everythi
ng seems to be forbidden as far as you are concerned, myfriend," replied Hamerton. "You are certainly labouring under adelusion. I was----"

  "Silence!" repeated the officer. "Ascend this moment."

  He pointed to a flight of granite steps alongside of which the boatwas being held by the bowman and the coxwain.

  At the head of the steps stood a marine, dressed in a blue tunic,white trousers, and a brightly-polished brass helmet. The man broughthis rifle smartly to the salute as the German officer passed, then,shouldering his piece, paced the quay in the stolid manner so typicalof the Kaiser's soldiery.

  Thirty or forty yards away stood another sentry; farther on therewere more. The whole place seemed crowded with marines on duty, whileevery person that Hamerton could see wore either a military or anaval uniform. The civilian element was totally lacking.

  The Sub had very little time to make the observation, for from theshelter of a stone building that served as a guardroom a file ofmarines appeared. With fixed bayonets they fell in on either side ofthe two members of the _Diomeda's_ crew.

  "Great snakes, we're arrested!" exclaimed Detroit.

  "I imagined so long ago," replied Hamerton. "No matter, they can'tbring a case against us. They've no proof. We'll be out of this messwithin the next few hours."

  Even as he spoke he remembered the confidential book hidden in thestove on board the yacht. If the officials should chance to discoverthat incriminating article! The thought struck the Sub in a veryunpleasant manner, but the next instant his confidence returned.After all, he could explain, and the seaman Pfeil would, he feltsure, corroborate his statement.

  "Now, what's going to happen?" asked Detroit, as the pair foundthemselves alone in a small, whitewashed room, with a heavily barredwindow several feet above their heads, and a securely locked doorbetween them and the open air.

  "Only another exhibition of German high-handedness," replied the Sub."We'll spring a mine on them. They'll be rather surprised when theylearn that you are the son of a United States official in highquarters, and that I am a British naval officer. We'll hold ourtongues till we are face to face with the commandant: then, by Jove,we'll enjoy ourselves."

  "Guess I wish I had decent things on," remarked Detroit, ruefullysurveying his disreputable attire. "Say what you like, Jack, goldlace does not make a man, but a fellow can't stand on his dignitylike this."

  "I'll have a jolly good shot at it, anyhow," retorted the Sub. "Now,stand by, there's someone coming."

  Outside, along the stone corridor, came the sound of spurs jinglingon the pavement. Then the door was thrown open, and the lieutenantwho had effected the arrest entered, accompanied by a major ofinfantry.

  "You are British?" began the latter in tolerably fluent English."What is your name, your station, your address of residence?"

  "Before we go into these details, Herr Major," said Hamerton, "weshould like to know why we are brought here?"

  "That is to be told some time after," replied the military officer."Tell me your names."

  "Not at present," said the Sub sturdily. "We'll explain everything tothe commandant. We request that we be taken to him with the leastpossible delay."

  "Gott in Himmel!" ejaculated the major. "Do you know who I am?" andtwisting his heavy, upturned moustache, their captor tried to impressthe two prisoners with the fear of Teutonic officialdom.

  "Cannot say I've met you before, Major," replied Hamerton carelessly."Perhaps my memory is slightly at fault?"

  "Sir, I am Major Karl von Schloss."

  It was on the tip of the Sub's tongue to express his ignorance of themajor's identity, but reflecting that perhaps, after all, it would bewell to exercise discretion, he replied:

  "I think I can remember that name, Herr Major."

  "You will have good cause to do so," retorted the German grimly."Now, your name?"

  "Not until I see the commandant."

  "And yours?" demanded the Major, addressing the American.

  "Guess that can be held up a bit," replied Detroit.

  "Held up? What you mean?"

  "I'll explain to the commandant," said Detroit resolutely.

  "Very good, if you can," remarked the Major, as he prepared to takehis departure. "I will, nevertheless, tell you. You will be chargedwith espionage. You will be lucky if you get less than three years ina fortress, for we Germans have been plagued enough with foreignspies--especially English."