CHAPTER XXXIX.
DACRES' PROMOTION.
WHEN Reno Durango recovered from the stupifying effects of thesulphur he found himself in a cabin destitute of furniture andsecurely locked and barred. He knew by the peculiar undulating motionthat he was on board an airship. Then the truth flashed across hismind: he was in the hands of his rivals.
Rage and despair filled his heart. At one moment he thought ofdashing his head against the metal bulkhead of the cabin; at anotherhe contemplated putting an end to his existence and evadingwell-merited punishment by strangling himself. But his nerve failedhim. Never backward in delighting to cause pain to the unfortunatewretches who had fallen into his hands at various times, he shrankfrom inflicting the slightest injury upon himself.
His frenzied thoughts were interrupted by the entry of CaptainWhittinghame, Dacres, and Dr. Hambrough.
The Englishmen had not come to gloat over their captive; the doctorwas there in his official capacity of surgeon of the "Meteor," whilethe others were there in case the Mexican should become violent.
"Well, my man, how do you feel now?" asked the doctor in amatter-of-fact tone, as if he were addressing a hospital patient.
Durango's reply was to roll his yellow eyes and thrust out hisleathery under lip. He wanted to curse his captors, but blind rageheld him speechless.
Deftly Dr. Hambrough took hold of his wrist. The Mexican, snarlinglike a wild beast, shook him off.
"I cannot do anything more for the patient at present," said thedoctor suavely, and the three men turned to leave the prisoner to hisown devices.
Just as Whittinghame, who was the last to leave, was backing out ofthe door--for he gave Durango no chance of making a sudden dash--theMexican found his tongue.
"Curse you, Whittinghame!" he shouted with a torrent of oaths. "If Ihad thrown those plans overboard instead of stowing them in under theboat's fore-deck, I'd have the laugh of you yet."
Vaughan Whittinghame made no reply, but pushing Dacres across thethreshold he closed and relocked the door.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed delightedly. "Durango's let the cat out ofthe bag. He imagines that we have already found the plans."
"Let's hope it won't be long before we do," rejoined the sub, and thethree men hastened to search the hull of the flying-boat.
The "Meteor's" speed was materially reduced to enable the searchersto go on deck, where the boat was made fast to four strongring-bolts.
Leaping over her coamings Dacres dived under the fore-deck. The placehad already been cleared out, but on each side a skirting had beenfastened to the ribs to within a foot of the deck-beams.
The sub thrust his hand into one of the spaces thus formed. He couldfeel nothing. The second gave no better result, but in the third hisfingers came in contact with some moist paper.
Carefully withdrawing his band the sub found that he had recovered abundle of documents tied with red tape. Although damp they werelittle the worse for their adventures in sea and air.
"Hurrah!" shouted Dacres. "We've discovered the object of our search,sir. Here are the submarine plans."
* * * * *
The great Naval Review at Spithead was over. On board H.M.S."Foudroyant," the flagship of the Commander-in-Chief, Sir HardyStaplers, a grand dinner was being held. The flag-officers andcaptains of the various divisions and ships, the principal militaryofficers of the garrison of Portsmouth, and the heads of the Dockyardestablishments were present.
After the customary loyal toast had been proposed and duly honoured,Sir Hardy rose to reply to the toast of The Navy.
The Commander-in-Chief was by no means a fluent speaker, but when he"warmed up" to his subject he lost all sense of time. His speech waspractically a resume of the vast strides that the British Navy hadmade during his lengthy career. At last he spoke of the FlyingWing:--
"Gentlemen, I need say but little more (the majority of his listenersheaved an inward sigh of relief). We now know of the sterling workperformed by the subsidized airship 'Meteor.' When the time comes forthat noble craft to be taken over by H.M. Government--and I ventureto assert that the day is not far distant--our Flying Wing will havea unit that is second to none.
"It is a matter of regret that the 'Meteor' was not present at thememorable display at Spithead to-day. As all of you are no doubtaware the latest dispatches from Zandovar stated that the airshipleft in pursuit of the outlaw, Durango. A week has elapsed and nofurther news of her has been forthcoming. Personally, I do not thinkwe need labour under any misapprehension as to her safety; but at thesame time the silence--especially in this age of wireless--issomewhat inexplicable. An airship that could with safety undertake atshort notice a successful dash to the North Pole (hear, hear!) can berelied upon to take care of herself. Therefore, I feel confident inexpressing my opinion that before many hours have elapsed news willbe received from the Senior Officers at Zandovar announcing thereturn of the Dreadnought of the Air from yet another successfulmission.
"One more point I should like to mention, and that is the greatchanges in the near future in in engineering. I refer to the corditemotors as carried in the 'Meteor.' It is, of course, too early topredict with certainty that cordite will be the fuel used on ourgreat battleships in place of oil, but to a great extent the era ofthe coal and oil-fed furnace is doomed."
Now, it so happened that amongst the guests was Engineer-CaptainCamshaft, an engineering officer of the old school, who swore bytriple-expansion engines, took ungraciously to turbine machinery, andscoffed at internal combustion engines. He was particularly scathingin his opinion of cordite as fuel for propulsion, and had offered tobet any of his brother-officers that the "Meteor" would never returnto England under her own power. Perhaps he had had more champagnethan was good for him; at anyrate, at this point of Sir Hardy'sspeech, he exclaimed in a "stage aside," "Question."
A deadly silence prevailed in the crowded ward-room. The protest wasplainly audible, yet save for Camshaft's immediate neighbour, no oneknew who had had the temerity to contradict the Commander-in-Chief.
"Did I hear some one say 'Question'?" asked Sir Hardy with hiscustomary urbanity.
The culprit recognized that he had overstepped the bounds. It meantthat his future career was in jeopardy, especially as it was freelymooted that Sir Hardy Staplers was shortly to be made First Sea Lordof the Admiralty.
Fortunately the engineer-captain was a man of resource in suchmatters.
"Beg pardon, Sir Hardy," he exclaimed thickly, "I saidunquestionably--unquestionably."
A badly suppressed titter ran round the table. The situation wassaved.
"Yes, of course," agreed the Commander-in-Chief blandly. "Now I quiteunderstand; you said 'unquestionably', Captain Camshaft."
Before Sir Hardy could resume the thread of his lengthy discourse avoice on deck was heard hailing "Boat ahoy!"
Loud and clear came the reply that electrified every member of thatconvivial dinner-party:--
"Meteor!"
The Commander-in-Chief's speech was never finished. Following SirHardy's example the officers and their guests rushed upon thequarter-deck and crowded to the starboard guard-rails.
They were just in time to see a motor-boat of unusual design runalongside the accommodation-ladder. The glare of the electric lampsfell upon the bronzed features of Captain Vaughan Whittinghame andSub-lieutenant Basil Dacres.
"How in the name of wonder!" exclaimed the astonishedCommander-in-Chief.
"We've brought two-fifths of the original 'Meteor' back, sir,"reported Whittinghame. "She's lying off the Warner Lightship. Ourwireless is out of gear, or we would have reported our progress.Durango is a prisoner on board; and here, sir, are the plans of the'M' class of submarines."
* * * * *
Shortly before lunch-time on the following morning BasilDacres--specially promoted by virtue of an Order-in-Council to therank of commander (Flying Squadron, Naval Wing) of His Majesty'sFleet--arrived at his father's country residence, Cranbury House.
&nbs
p; "Governor in, Sparkes?" he asked as the footman opened the door andstared with amazement at the "young master." Years of training hadsteeled Sparkes to most shocks, but this time he was completely takenaback.
"Yes, Mr. Basil, Colonel Dacres has just come in. He's been outrabbit-shooting, sir."
"Then don't tell him who I am," cautioned Dacres. "Take in this cardand say that someone wishes to see him."
Sparkes took the pasteboard and vanished. Half way up the stairs hepaused to look at the card.
"Mr. Basil's up to some of his pranks, I'll be bound," he said tohimself. "Hope to goodness the master doesn't jaw me for it."
"Gentleman to see you, sir," he announced.
Colonel Dacres took the card and read,
"Commander Basil Dacres, R.N."
"Commander Basil Dacres, R.N.," he repeated. "Wonder who the deuce heis? Some distant relation, I suppose, after something or the other.Sparkes, where's the Navy List?"
"You lent it to Admiral Padbury the morning before last, sir,"replied the footman smartly.
"So I did, Sparkes, so I did. Never mind. I'll see this gentleman.Where is he, Sparkes?"
"In the green room, sir."
"What sort of a man is he?"
The footman coughed to clear his throat, and nearly broke ablood-vessel in striving to suppress a grin.
"Cannot say as how I took particular stock of him, sir; but he's asmartish-looking gentleman, sir."
"Then he must belong to our branch of the family," thought thecolonel complacently. "But dash it all, what does he want to comejust before tiffin for?"
Colonel Dacres waited to put a few finishing touches, then hasteneddownstairs to conceal, under a guise of cordiality, any traces of hisannoyance at being disturbed before lunch.
To his unbounded astonishment he found himself confronted by his son,whom he supposed to be still on board H.M.S. "Royal Oak" offZandovar. He could only come to one conclusion--a hastily formedone--on the situation: Basil had been in trouble, and had turned up,in spite of his parent's fiat, like a bad halfpenny.
"What's the meaning of this, sir?" he demanded, holding up the card."Are there no limits to your senseless pranks? I had hoped when thatValderian business took place that you might have proved yourselfworthy of the name of Dacres. Instead of that you turn up with ahandle to your name to which you have no right. Explain yourself,sir."
"It's all right, dad," said the youthful commander coolly.
"But it isn't all right. I----"
"Steady on, pater! You've asked me a lot of questions; give me achance to reply. In the first place there is a limit to my pranks,and I don't mean to exceed it. Secondly, I was in the Valderianaffair; thirdly, I came home because the 'Meteor' brought me home;fourthly and lastly, I am really a commander in His Majesty's Fleet,my appointment being dated at the Admiralty yesterday."
"'Meteor?'" repeated the colonel. "You were on the 'Meteor'? I knewnothing of this."
"Naturally, sir. Our mission was a confidential one. EvenRear-Admiral Maynebrace was in ignorance of who formed her crew untilwe pulled him out of the Cavarale."
"Were you the officer who was reported to have distinguished himselfin rescuing the Admiral, then?" asked Colonel Dacres amazedly.
"Yes, sir; but the newspaper reports may have been exaggerated. Theyoften are," declared Dacres modestly. "But the fact remains that I amspecially promoted, for which I have to thank Captain Whittinghame,who has been made Commandant of the Airship Section; the 'Meteor' isto undergo a hasty refit and reconstruction--we left three-fifths ofher in different places, you know--and after that--well, we must hopefor something fairly exciting to turn up. For the present I havethree weeks' leave."
"Leave!" echoed the colonel. "Won't you have to give evidence at thetrial of Durango?"
"Yes, I suppose so," replied the young commander. "He is to beindicted on a list of charges as long as my arm. However, I am not atall keen on that part of the business. Hunting him down was excitingenough, but now the rascal is laid by the heels I wish I could regardthe incident as closed. After a turn at active service in the air afellow doesn't want to descend to the stuffy atmosphere of the LawCourts. I want to be up and doing, in a double sense, pater; I feelas keen as mustard."
"Basil, my boy, I'm afraid I've misjudged you."
"I don't think so, pater; I believe that once or twice you've blamedme for practical jokes I didn't play, but that's a mere detail. Themater's teapot, for example."
"I don't mean in that way," continued the colonel. "I thought thatyou might let your chances slip through your fingers, but, by Jove!you're a true Dacres after all."
"Thank you, pater," said the young commander simply.
THE END
THE LONDON AND NORWICH PRESS LIMITED, LONDON AND NORWICH, ENGLAND
[Transcriber's note:
The original text contained a number of obvious spelling and typographic errors. They have been corrected without note. Inconsistent spellings and typographical errors have been preserved as printed.
These are: - "Chili" and "Chile" both occur - "Equadorean" instead of "Equadorian"]
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