CHAPTER VII

  ON THE GREY NORTH SEA

  Brief as was the interval between leaving the treacherous cove and themoment when Ruxton Farlow found himself surrounded by the tastefulluxury of the saloon of the long, low, strange-looking craft waitingjust outside to receive him, it was not without many thrillingexperiences.

  To a man of less imagination the very few minutes in the petrol launchwould have meant little more than a rather exciting experience. But forRuxton they possessed a far deeper significance. Nor was the least thefeeling that he had slammed-to the doors of the life behind him, boltedand barred and locked them, and--flung away the key.

  That was the man. Sensitive to every mood that assailed him, yet urgedon by an indomitable purpose, he had no more power to raise a hand tostay the tide of life upon which he was floating than he had to checkthe racing current which bore him beyond the threatening shoals of theOld Mill Cove.

  What a mill-race the latter was! The man in charge of the launch had byno means exaggerated it. The little craft, urged by its powerful motor,surged through the water till the sea washed over its prow, and Ruxtonwas forced to shelter beneath the decked-in peak, whence he couldobserve the man amidships, who never once desisted from his efforts onthe well pump.

  Then, just beyond the jaws of the cove, they entered a stretch oftumultuous popple where the ebb met the opposing currents along thecoast. Here the boat was tossed about like the proverbial feather, andto navigate it into the smooth water beyond demanded all the consummateseamanship of those responsible for its safety.

  Then, out of the heart of the grey waters, came the abrupt rising ofthe submersible. There was a tremendous swirling and upheaval less thanfifty yards away, and the grey-green monster of the deep reared itsforlorn-looking deck, with its conning-tower, its sealed hatchways, andits desolate deck rails, above the surface, and lay there, long and lowand as evil-looking as only a mind filled with memories of the late warcould have pictured it.

  Two minutes later Ruxton had left the little launch, had stepped aboardthe submersible and passed down the "companion" to the saloon beneaththe flush deck, once more to be greeted by the woman who seemed to havebecome so much a part of the new life opening out before him.

  Her greeting was cordial.

  "I knew you would come," she said, as she left her hand for a moment inhis. Then her grey eyes, so full of warmth, shadowed for a moment. "Andnow that you have come I--could almost wish that I had had nothing todo with it. You see, I haven't the courage of my convictions. I knowthey are right, but--I am afraid."

  Out of the Heart of the Waters Rose the Submersible.]

  When he answered her the influence of the woman was greater than Ruxtonknew.

  "You need not be," he said simply. "We are not fighting for ourselves,so--why fear?"

  The woman had no verbal reply. She regarded for one moment the strongface of the man, and the meaning of that regard was known only toherself. Had Ruxton possessed more vanity it is possible he might haveread it aright, but vanity with him was so small a quantity as to bealmost negligible.

  Again the woman held out her hand.

  "The tide will not wait. I must hurry ashore." Then she smiled. "I mustgo, too, while the courage your words have momentarily inspiredremains. My father will join you immediately. Good-bye and good----"

  "You do not travel with us?"

  Ruxton's enquiry was frankly disappointed. The other shook herbeautiful head.

  "No woman may venture where you are going. No woman has ever set footthere. I know it all, as you will understand later, but--no, I returnwith the launch. The tide will just serve us. Good-bye and good luck."

  Ruxton was left listening to the sound of her footsteps mounting thecompanionway. Then, as he heard the door of the conning-tower aboveclose with a slam, he turned about and sought one of the luxurioussofas with which the saloon was furnished.

  As he sat he swayed gently to the motion of the vessel, and for thefirst time became aware of the automatic change to artificial light inthe room. He knew at once that the vessel was returning once more tothose depths whence he had witnessed it emerge. He gazed about himspeculatively. The lights were carefully placed and diffused to preventthe trying nature of a constant artificial glare.

  He became aware of the splendid appointments of the saloon, which was afine example of the marine architect's handicraft. The apartment itselfwas some twenty feet wide, and he judged it to occupy most of thevessel's beam. It was probably a similar length. The carpet on whichhis feet rested was a rich Turkey. Nor were the rest of the furnishingsessentially of the character of a ship's cabin. True, there was acentre dining-table bolted to the deck, and the accompanying swingingchairs, but there was a full grand piano of German make. There wereseveral comfortably upholstered lounges. There was exquisite plasticpanelling of warm, harmonious tints on the upper parts of the walls andthe ceilings, while the lower walls were clad in polished carvedmahogany. He sought for the source of the daylight which had filled theroom when he first entered, and discovered a great skylight overheadwhich was now covered by a metal shield on the outside, which, heconcluded, must close over it automatically with the process ofsubmerging.

  But his further observations were cut short by the abrupt opening of adoor in the mahogany panelling and the entrance of--Mr. Charles Smith.He came swiftly across the room, his steps giving out no sound upon thesoft carpet.

  "Mr. Farlow," he cried, holding out one tenacious hand in greeting,"you have done me a great honor, sir. You have done me an inestimableservice in coming. I can--only thank you."

  But Ruxton was less attentive to his words than to the man. There was achange in him. A subtle change. He was no longer the enthusiasticinventor, almost slavishly striving to enlist sympathy for hisinvention. There was something about him which suggested command--evenan atmosphere of the autocrat. Perhaps it was that here he was in hisown natural element--the element which he had himself created.Perhaps----

  But he left it at that. It was useless to speculate further. He stillexperienced the sense of trust and liking which had been inspired attheir first meeting by the noble forehead and the gentle, luminouseyes, so like, yet so unlike, those other eyes which so largely filledhis thoughts.

  He willingly responded to the extended hand. And the man seemed toexpect no reply, for he went on at once----

  "I was in my laboratory when you came aboard. Now I am entirely at yourservice."

  "Good." Ruxton nodded. "I feel there must be a lot of talk betweenus--without delay."

  The inventor looked at his watch. Then he pointed at the lounge fromwhich Ruxton had risen, and seated himself in one of the swivel chairsat the dining-table.

  "We have nearly two hours before supper is served. May I send for somerefreshment for you?"

  Ruxton dropped into the seat behind him.

  "Thanks, no," he declined, "I dined early--purposely. All I am anxiousfor now is--explanation."

  The manner in which his eyelids cut flatly across the upper part of thepupils of his dark eyes gave his gaze a keenly penetrating quality. Hewanted explanation, full and exhaustive explanation. Warnings, and mereintangible suggestions, no longer carried weight. He must know thewhole thing which the future had to reveal to him.

  The white-haired man seemed lost in thought. Again Ruxton noted achange. The lean face and gentle eyes yielded to something very like anexpression of dejection. It was almost as if the man shrank from theexplanations demanded of him, while yet he knew they must be made.

  At length he raised his eyes and regarded his guest with an almostpathetic smile.

  "Explain? Ah, yes. I must explain everything now." He sighed."Where--where shall I begin?" He crossed his long legs and strove tosettle himself more comfortably in his chair, while Ruxton waitedwithout a sign.

  "It is hard to explain--all," he said, after a brief pause. "But I knowit must be. Mr. Farlow, can you imagine what it means when a man whohas always regarded his honor and his country's honor
before all thingsin the world suddenly finds himself called upon to confess that hiscountry's honor has been outraged by his country, and his own honor hasbeen outraged by himself? If you can, then perhaps you will understandmy position when explanation is demanded of me."

  Ruxton averted the steady regard of his eyes. He did not desire towitness this man's pain.

  "I think I know," he said. Then quite abruptly he changed from theEnglish language to German, which he spoke with the perfect accent of aman educated in Frankfurt. "But it may save you much if you begin bytelling me your real name. The name you are known by in--Germany."

  A pair of simple, startled eyes gazed back into his.

  "Has--Vita--told you?" he demanded.

  Ruxton shook his head.

  "Then how did you know?"

  "Does it matter? I desire to make it easier for you."

  For a few moments neither spoke. The artificial light in the room hadmerged once more into daylight. There was again the sound of theopening and shutting of iron doors on deck above them. There were alsothe harsh tones of orders being given.

  Ruxton knew that it was the return of the launch which had conveyedthis man's daughter ashore, and that it was being taken on board andstowed within the parent craft. Presently the sounds died away. Oncemore the light in the saloon became artificial, and the silent throb ofengines made themselves felt. The journey had begun.

  "Well?"

  Ruxton had now given himself entirely to the use of the German language.

  The inventor cleared his throat

  "My name is Stanislaus. Stanislaus, Prince von Hertzwohl."

  Ruxton Farlow did not move a muscle. There was not the quiver of aneyelid, nor one detail of change of expression. Yet he was not unmovedat the mention of the man's real name. Although he had half expectedit, it came with something very like a shock.

  Stanislaus von Hertzwohl! Did he not know it? Did not the whole wideworld know it? Was it not the one name, out of all the great Germannames associated with the war, which was anathematized more surely eventhan that of the Kaiser himself?

  Stanislaus von Hertzwohl! The man who had perfected the Germansubmarine. The man who had made possible the hideous slaughter ofinnocent victims upon the high seas. The man at whose door was laid theresponsibility for that inhuman massacre--the sinking of the_Lusitania_. The man whom the world believed was the father of everydiabolical engine of slaughter devised to combat his country's enemies.

  "Of course, I know the name," he said simply. "Everybody knows it."

  His reply seemed to fire the powder train of the Prince's passionateemotion.

  "Ach!" he cried, with a desperately helpless gesture of expressivehands. "That is it. Everybody! Everybody knows it! They know the name,but they do not know the truth."

  Then, in a moment, the fire of his emotion seemed to die out.

  "Mr. Farlow, I want you to know that truth," he went on calmly. "Willyou listen to it now? Will you listen to it with an open mind, or--orhave you already sat in judgment, and, with the rest of an unthinking,unreasoning world, condemned me?"

  Ruxton's thoughts were pacing rapidly with his feelings. They hadtravelled swiftly back to that moonlit night upon the Yorkshire cliffs.To him had come the woman again, so fair, so radiant in her perfectwomanhood, so passionate in her horror of the tragedy of the world war.These things had been beyond all doubt in their sincerity and truth.She was this man's daughter. She was loyally supporting her father now.Then his mind passed on to the scene in the library at Dorby Towers. Ithad been his work for years to deal with people whose superficialpresentment was only calculated to cloak real purpose. He had readthese two people out of his experience.

  "Judgment is only for those who possess all the facts," he observedquietly. "Will you continue?"

  The decision of his attitude seemed to inspire the white-haired man sopatiently awaiting his reply. He crossed his legs, and, drawing up onewell-shod foot, nursed its ankle in his clasped hands. He was leaningforward full of an anxious, nervous expression of attitude. It almostseemed as if his guest's judgment were to him a last straw of hope. Thenoble forehead was a-dew with moisture. His bushy eyebrows were sharplydrawn in a great effort of concentration. His eyes, so widely simple,usually so expressive of childhood's innocence, were now full of asuffering that was almost overwhelming.

  "If I had been guilty of a fraction of that of which the world accusesme could I have dared, or cared, to approach you with my latestinvention, and--the other proposals? Keep that question in your mindwhile I talk. It is so easy to condemn, and, having condemned, reversalof judgment is well-nigh impossible. If I am guilty it is only of apatriot's devotion to the country to which _I believed_ I owedallegiance. That, and an even greater devotion to the problems ofmaking possible those things which seemed impossible. In not one of theproblems of invention have I ever possessed a motive other than thatwhich has inspired every engineer engaged upon naval armaments in everyother country. Never in my life have I devised any weapon for the armyother than the monster siege mortar. The liquid fire, the gases, thedozen and one contrivances for slaughter have found their inception inother brains than mine. I state these facts simply. You must trustthem, or dismiss them, as you will. I am a marine inventor solely,except for that one weapon which was legitimate enough--the siegemortar. You, who understand the nature of marine invention, mustassuredly realize that one man's brain, one man's lifetime are all toobrief and limited to permit a division of his powers with any hope ofsuccess."

  He paused as though offering opportunity for comment, but none wasforthcoming. So he went on, his body slightly swaying to and fro, hiseyes assuming a passionate fire that gave to his whole aspect anatmosphere of vigorous protest.

  "I am a Pole," he went on presently. "I am a Pole, born in GermanPoland. My parents were poor, but we claim direct descent from theancient royal house. Now let me make my own thoughts and feelings clearto you. I was brought up under German methods, German education. I wastaught, as every child within the German Empire is taught, to believethat Germany is above and before all the nations of the world, andthat, in the brief life of this earth, nothing else but German nationalinterests matter to its people. Now mark the obvious result of such atraining. I make no apology. I, beginning life in my father's littleengineering shop, finding myself with an abnormal capacity forinvention, seeking to make for myself and family a competence--what doI do? I place whatever ability I may possess at the service of Germany.I devote myself to discovery in the one direction in which officialGermany has looked since the war of 1870.

  "The next step comes quickly. It came so quickly that it well-nighoverbalanced my whole sense of proportion. The problem that appealed tome was the enormous strength of fortresses being built by our neighborsagainst our borders. We were doing the same against theirs. It wasalmost a simple problem. I said that if our fortresses were strongerthan theirs, and we possessed a secret weapon which could destroytheirs, then our empire was safe from invasion for all time. So it cameabout that I took plans of my great siege mortars to the authorities.They were considered, and the guns were ultimately made. On experimentthey proved an instantaneous success, and I was at once given rank andwealth, and ordered to work on the development of the gun-power of theNavy. It was this that converted me to marine engineering. From thenonwards my career became one series of triumphs--from Germany's pointof view. Till now, as you know, I have been rewarded with the revivalof an old Polish title, to which by birth I am entitled, and amplaced--as perhaps you do not know--in supreme command of Germany'snaval construction."

  There was no atmosphere of triumph in the man's manner. There was novictorious inspiration in the tones of his voice. With each word whichannounced the progress of his triumph an almost painful dejectionseemed to settle more and more heavily upon him.

  Still Ruxton refrained from comment. He knew that the vital things hadyet to be told. Nor had he any desire to break up the man's train ofthought. There still remained the tragedy of triumph
which this man'slife concealed.

  The man's voice came again in level tones which had lost all light andshade. He spoke like one utterly weary in mind, heart, and body.

  "If I had only known," he said, with a dreary shake of his snow-whitehead. "But," he added with a shrug, "I did not know. I was blinded bysuccess, and a passionate devotion to my work." He drew a deep breath."But I knew later. Oh, yes. I knew. The greatest triumph and thegreatest disaster of my life was when I converted the paltry littlecoast defence submarines into the ocean-going pirates they afterwardsbecame. But it was not until Germany declared a submarine blockade ofthese shores that I knew what I had done. Up to that time I had beena--German patriot. From that moment I became a simple, heart-brokenhuman being. My legitimate engines of war had been turned against theinnocent lives of a defenceless people, and when the massacre offifteen hundred souls took place with the sinking of the _Lusitania_ Ithink for the time I became demented."

  He was breathing hard. His face had become almost stony in itsexpression. It was the face of a man who for the time is beyond allfurther feeling. Quite abruptly, however, he released his hold upon hisfoot, and ran his long fingers through his shock of white hair.

  "Ach! How willingly would I have undone all I had done. I tried toresign on various pleas. Health!" He laughed, a hollow, mocking laugh."As well try to struggle free from the strangling rope of the hangmanwith hands tied. To my horror I found that I belonged body and soul toGermany, and my rank and wealth was the price the country had paid formy brains. Oh, yes, I was no honored patriot serving my country. I wasits bond slave, the slave of Prussian militarism. And to the end of mydays that slave I must remain.

  "Need I tell you of all the suffering I have since endured? No, I thinknot. No repentant murderer could have suffered more for his crimes thanI have done. I have striven, by every possible argument, to assuremyself that mine was not the blame, but no conviction has resulted. Theworld cannot blame more cruelly than I do myself, and yet--I aminnocent of all intent.

  "Throughout all the struggle I have had with my own soul no glimmer oflight reached me until my daughter came to my rescue. And I think itwas her woman's wit, supported by her own brave heart, which has savedme. She, in her great pity and love of humanity, started a freshthought in the poor brain with which Providence endowed me. It surelywas only a woman's mind could have conceived so simple a solution to mytrouble. It was all done in one brief sentence. She said, 'The brainthat can invent to destroy can invent to save.' And from that momenthope came to me."

  He leant forward urgently. The veins at his temples stood out with themental effort of the moment.

  "Need I detail the result. I came to you as the only possible person tohelp on the work. You were selected after careful thought. I havewarned you of the threat hanging over your country. Now I will show youthe engines of destruction which I have been forced to perfect tocomplete the execution of that threat. But I have already shown you mysubmersible. You are now on board the constructed vessel, thedevelopment and adoption of which is the only antidote to the devilishplans of the country to which I belong, plans which are staggering intheir possibilities. They are so simple, yet so vast and terrible whenmade against England. Listen: Germany has abandoned all other navalconstruction in favor of my new boat--the Submersible Dreadnought. Doyou realize the type? It is a heavily armored vessel with the gun-powerof the surface dreadnought, and its speed, but with all the attributesof the submarine. A fleet of nominally three hundred is beingconstructed. It will be larger by far. In a few years it will bepossible to ring your country round with these lurking machines, eachof which will be capable of engaging successfully any surface warvessel ever built, while its submarine attributes will render itpractically immune from any combination of force opposed to it. Do yousee? Never again will England, when at war with Germany, be able totransport her armies abroad. Never again will she be able to feed hermillions of people through overseas channels. Henceforth she will bedriven to peace under any conditions and her mastery of the seas willpass from her forever."

  Ruxton stirred in his seat. He shifted his position. The man's wordshad sunk deeply.

  "The submersible mercantile marine is certainly the obvious retort," hesaid reflectively. Then he added as an afterthought, "Temporarily."

  "Yes. Temporarily."

  Neither spoke again for some moments. Both were thinking ahead, muchfurther on than the immediate future.

  "And after the submersible dreadnought?" Ruxton's question was notaddressed to the inventor, but it was answered by him.

  "Who can tell? One of these two countries must go under."

  "Yes."

  Again came a prolonged silence. Again Ruxton shifted his position. Thenat last he spoke.

  "And you will show me these things. The risk will be stupendous--foryou."

  Prince Stanislaus laughed without a shadow of mirth.

  "For me it is just a matter of life and death. Life has few attractionsfor me now. For you? My power is sufficient to safeguard you. Shall Ishow you how?"

  Ruxton nodded. His penetrating gaze was again fixed upon the almostcadaverous features with their snow-white crown and noble forehead.

  "Yes," he said.

  Prince Stanislaus began at once. And talk went on between them for manyminutes. For the most part Ruxton listened, as was his way, and onlyoccasionally interpolated a shrewd, incisive question. His dark,penetrating eyes were watchful and studying. And no change ofexpression in the other was lost upon him.

  Slowly within him there grew a wide admiration for the mentality andcourage in this strangely simple creature. He read him down to theremotest depths of his honest soul. Wherever Prince Stanislaus'sdevotion to his life's work had led him, there was no shadow of doubtleft in the Englishman's mind as to his present sincerity and honestyof purpose.

  When the last detail of the plan had been explained Ruxton stood up.

  "The judgment of the world is rarely inspired by justice," he said. "Ithank you, and will gladly place myself under your guidance. Since theopportunity of discovering the secrets of Kiel and Cuxhaven has beenvouchsafed to me I should be far less than the patriot I desire to bedid I shirk the risks. My duty is quite plain."

  The relief and satisfaction his words inspired in the other wereobvious.

  "I thank you," he said earnestly. "You have helped me to that peacewhich I have long sought and I had come to believe could never again bemine in this life. But----"

  "But?"

  The man was smiling.

  "But we do not go to either Kiel or Cuxhaven."

  Ruxton was startled.

  "Where then?" he demanded shortly.

  "To the Baltic. Mr. Farlow, you have no idea of the subtlety of thepeople with whom we are dealing. All eyes of the world are on Cuxhavenand Kiel. Every vulture of the foreign secret services is hovering overthose places, and the forges and foundries are working to deceive them.But the real work and preparations I speak of are not being made inGermany at all. We go to the Baltic, to the island of Borga, which isoff the coast of Sweden. And there we shall find under Germanadministration a naval 'Krupps,' and the greatest arsenal in the wholeworld."