CHAPTER XIV
The Way Out
Sub-Lieutenant Fordyce and his two companions clung desperately tothe motionless blades of the crippled propeller as they awaited whatthey were firmly convinced was the end.
Although it seemed an interminable period before the expectedexplosion took place, only a few seconds actually elapsed before thedetonation occurred.
Through the lens of his helmet the Sub saw nothing of the nature of aflash. He heard the roar; it smote upon his temples like the blow ofa club, as a rush of violently agitated water all but swept him fromhis precarious position. His head-dress came in contact with a hardsubstance. It seemed as if the metal helmet was collapsing under theshock.
Still he held on, wondering dully why he had not been pulverized bythe explosion, or at least his diving-dress torn asunder. Nothing ofthis nature happening, he sought his companions. Cassidy was stillthere, literally hugging the outboard part of the propeller shafting,but of Payne there was no sign. All the tools had vanished, with theexception of one hack-saw. The rest were lying on the bottom of thesea, ninety feet or more below, doubtless with the unfortunate Payne.The Sub still retained his electric lamp. Cassidy also had his, butthe light had failed.
The hull of the submarine was still oscillating gently under theinfluence of the disturbed water. It was a good sign. Had the platingbeen shattered by the explosion, the vessel would have sunk like astone. As it was, she still retained a reserve of buoyancy, but wasprevented from rising only by the retaining influence of portions ofthe steel net. Subsequent events proved that this was a blessing indisguise, for R19 would have risen to the surface in the full glareof the German torpedo-boat's search-lights.
Signing to Cassidy, the Sub indicated that the task of freeing thepropeller should proceed. It was a slow job with only one hack-saw attheir disposal, but one by one the tough strands were severed.
Fordyce was on the point of giving his companion a spell, when ascratching, rasping noise against his helmet rudely attracted hisattention. He was just in time to avoid a kick on the plate-glassfront of his head-dress from a leaden-soled boot, as Payne, makinghis way down the tapering stern of the submarine, was gamelyreturning to his interrupted task. The explosion, the effect of whichwas greatly mitigated by the buffer of water, had wrenched him fromhis perch, and had lifted him 20 or 30 feet vertically upwards,depositing him upon the rounded afterpart of the submarine.
The churning sounds of the Hun torpedo-boat's propellers had nowceased. It was indeed fortunate, Fordyce decided, that the vesselmade no further attempt to use explosive charges. The Sub had no ideaof what time had elapsed since he and his companions left thesubmarine. It was certainly not far short of an hour. To let the restof the crew know that they were still alive and, what was almost asimportant, active, they hammered upon the steel plating.
The task was nearing completion. With the blood running from a dozencuts in their benumbed hands, as the strands of the tough wire raspedthe flesh, they deftly unwound the severed layers from the boss ofthe propeller, until the gun-metal, polished with the friction of thewire, was revealed, free from anything that was likely to impede thepropulsive action of the blades.
Unexpectedly, R19 gave a jerk as the remaining strands of theretaining net parted. Almost before they were aware of it, the Suband his companions found themselves a few feet beneath the surface,still clinging to the propeller blades.
"If they start up the motors it's all U P with us," thought Fordyce,until he remembered that close at hand there had been a trailinglength of signal halyard.
Thank Heaven, it was still there! Signing to the two men, the Subpointed to the rope. Up they swarmed--easily until their helmetscleared the surface of the water. Beyond that they could not riseanother foot without assistance. Held down by their leaden weights,the effect of which was almost negligible when submerged, they werehelpless to gain the submarine's deck.
A seaman can almost invariably be relied upon to extricate himselffrom a tight corner. Drawing his sheath-knife, Cassidy quicklysevered the cords that attached the leaden weights to the Sub'schest, and, with a reckless disregard of His Majesty's stores, cutaway his metal-shod boots.
Assisted by the petty officer, Fordyce hauled himself to the deck,while Cassidy set about to perform a similar office for the A.B. Buthelp was forthcoming from another direction. Through theconning-tower hatchway came Lieutenant-Commander Stockdale and adozen of the crew. The various members of the diving-party wererelieved of their head-gear and dresses with the utmost dispatch.
"Propeller cleared? Excellent!" exclaimed the Hon. Derek. "We thoughtthat you were all knocked out. I cannot account for the fact that theold boat's hull withstood the explosion."
"There was a wreck lying almost athwart our bows, sir," repliedFordyce. "The grapnel must have engaged in her topsides, and, whenthe charge was detonated, the hull and the water between must haveborne the brunt."
"Fortunately for us," rejoined the Lieutenant-Commander. "We'll haveto be making a move before another Hun barges in to attempt to strafeus. What's that, Wilkins?"
"We're still hung up, sir," reported the petty officer addressed. "Afew strands of wire across the deck just abaft No. 2 quick-firer.I've told off some hands to hack it through."
"Very good; carry on," said the Hon. Derek. "Report when the job'sdone. Pass that gear below, men."
The diving-dresses were returned to their proper place. TheLieutenant-Commander made his way for'ard to superintend the last ofthe task of freeing the submarine from the toils of the net, whileFordyce and the two divers went below to change into dry clothing andpartake of food and hot drinks.
For the present all was quiet. The patrol vessels were out of sightand hearing. Their search-lights had been switched off, and therewere no indications that signals were being exchanged. It was safe toconclude that, under the impression that the intruding submarine hadbeen effectively accounted for, the Huns did not anticipate furthertrouble in that direction.
At length the welcome order came for half-speed ahead. Rhythmicallyboth propellers began to churn the water. It spoke volumes for thethoroughness of the shipwrights who had built the vessel that,notwithstanding the severe strain when the propeller "seized up",there were no defects from strained shafting, stripped gears, orleaky stuffing-boxes.
"We've had enough of submarine nets for the present," remarked theLieutenant-Commander to Lieutenant Macquare. "I won't risk submerginguntil we are well clear of this area, unless, of course, a Hundestroyer butts in. By Jove! Young Fordyce is a brick! I didn't envyhim his job, but he carried it out splendidly."
"Now it's all over," confided Macquare. "I'm jolly glad I didn't haveto tackle the business. The thought of it gave me cold feet."
"Tut, tut, Macquare!" exclaimed the Hon. Derek. "You suggested andvolunteered for the task."
"Aye," agreed the Lieutenant. "And I would have done my best to seeit through; but all the same I didn't relish it, and it's no usesaying I did. Yes, Fordyce deserves special recommendation. Cassidyand Payne too--splendid fellows both."
"And they'll get it," added the Hon. Derek. "That is if we are aliveto tell the tale."
Just before dawn R19 was fairly in the Baltic. The peril of themine-field was a thing of the past. Nevertheless, owing to thepossible presence of enemy air-craft and to the fact that severalvessels were sighted, Stockdale decided to submerge and lie on thebed of the sea until dusk. While the submarine was in the westernBaltic it was a case of hasten slowly, hiding by day and travellingawash during the hours of darkness.
As the Hon. Derek passed through the ward-room on his way to hiscabin he found Noel Fordyce sitting on a settee and fondling thefaithful Flirt. Chalmers had told the Sub how the dog knew that hermaster was out of the vessel. Instinctively the animal had realizedthat he was in danger, and her efforts to break loose to find the Subwere only stopped when the petty officer, at the risk of forfeitingall future affection from the submarine's mascot, locked Flirt in oneof the store compartm
ents.
"Come and have a snack with me, Fordyce," said theLieutenant-Commander. "Bring Flirt too."
It was a pleasant meal. The Hon. Derek was a genial host. Hepossessed a strong vein of humour and had the happy knack of puttinga guest entirely at his ease. Not once did he touch upon the subjectof the Sub's heroic act. He purposely avoided talking "shop", andquite naturally kept the conversation confined to matters of generalinterest.
Presently the subject of Flirt's indiscretion and Fordyce'sappearance at the Otherport Police Court came up, and the Hon. Derek,hearing the story at full length--Noel had but briefly outlined theaccount when Flirt smuggled herself on board--laughed heartily atNell's impersonation of her daughter.
"There is another yarn in connection with the affair," continuedFordyce, encouraged by his superior officer's interest. "ThisMindiggle blighter is a queer fish. I went to see him before he tookout the summons and tried to put him off. He seemed to know all aboutmy being on R19, when she was leaving Otherport, and also herdestination. Then he tried to, well, not exactly blackmail me, butsomething preciously close to the wind. The rotter offered tooverlook Flirt's lapse of manners if I consented to do a bit ofsmuggling--to take a small parcel of diamonds to some pal of his inPetrograd."
The Hon. Derek had listened in silence to the Sub's narrative. Atthis point he sat bolt upright.
"Fordyce," he exclaimed, "why on earth didn't you spin this yarn to mebefore? Diamonds to Petrograd! I suppose you didn't bring any of theinfernal stuff on board?"