CHAPTER XXV
"Flirt, you're a Brick!"
"What do you make of it, Mr. Macquare?" enquired the Hon. Derek. "Itlooks as if winter has stolen a march on us."
"It has, sir," agreed the Lieutenant, as he rubbed his hands torestore the circulation. Even in the electric radiator-heated cabinthe temperature was only a few degrees above freezing-point.
Mr. Macquare had just returned from a "spell ashore". It was close onsunset, by which time the British officers and crew had to be onboard. During the hours of daylight they were allowed to wanderfreely over a considerable part of the great Russian arsenal,provided they conformed to the regulations laid down by the verydemocratic commandant.
The work of repairing R19 was proceeding apace. Already thediving-rudder had been straightened, and would be replaced thefollowing day unless unforeseen circumstances arose to delay theoperation. New tubes for the periscopes had been obtained, and onlythe fitting of the lenses and minor adjustments had to be made beforethe submarine was again ready for sea.
"The ice is forming rapidly on the Neva," continued the Lieutenant."It's thick enough to bear a man's weight almost everywhere, exceptin the Morskoi Canal. They've got the ice-breakers hard at workalready."
The Morskoi Canal is an artificial channel cut in the comparativelyshallow Gulf of Finland, and affords deep-water communication belowCronstadt and the capital.
"Let's hope that the Baltic won't be completely frozen over duringthe next few days," remarked the Lieutenant-Commander. "We're runningthings pretty fine, but I see no alternative."
"Any news of Fordyce, sir?" asked the Lieutenant.
"Not yet," was the reply. "In fact I hardly expect to hear until heputs in an appearance. The youngster's not a sort of hare-brainedfellow who would look for trouble. Just before he left----"
A discreet tap upon the cabin door interrupted the Hon. Derek'sremarks.
"Come in!" he called out.
The door was opened, and the heavy curtain pushed aside, revealingthe anxious features of Able-Seaman Cassidy.
"Well, Cassidy?" asked the skipper encouragingly.
"It's about that dawg, sir," began the sailor. "Mr. Fordyce's dawg."
"Has she bitten anyone?"
"Sure, no, sir; leastwise not as I knows of. But she's absent withoutleave, sir."
"For how long?"
"Can't say, sir. Cook's mate says as 'ow Flirt was in the galley justafore dinner. Me and my mates have looked everywhere."
"Have you tried Mr. Fordyce's cabin?"
"Sure that Oi have, sir."
"Well, she's not here, Cassidy," said the Hon. Derek, giving aperfunctory glance under the settee. "Have another hunt round andthen report to me. The dog may have taken it into her head to goashore for a prowl round."
Cassidy saluted and backed out of the cabin to confer with hisequally anxious mates on the next course to adopt. The men weregrievously concerned about Flirt's disappearance. Never before hadthe mascot been "absent without leave ".
Some of the crew went on deck and began a pantomime conversation witha Russian seaman on sentry duty on the quay side. By dint of signsand the promise of a "plug o' ship's 'bacca", the Muscovite was madeto understand that R19's mascot was missing, and that her recoverywould result in a substantial reward.
All that evening there was a constant stream of Russian bluejacketsand marines, bringing with them curs of all sizes and descriptions,until the harassed officer of the watch was reduced to the borders ofunparliamentary language, while the crew were partly solaced by thesight of the impromptu dog show.
Morning came, but with it no signs of Flirt. A sympathetic Russianpetty officer, who could speak English, volunteered to make enquiriesat all the landing-places, although he expressed his opinion that thedog must be roaming about somewhere on the island.
With the resumption of work Flirt's disappearance was temporarilyforgotten. The Hon. Derek and Mr. Macquare were anxiously dividingtheir attention between the progress of the repairs and the steadyformation of the ice. Already the water alongside was covered withtwo inches of clear ice, while, in order to enable the divers tolabour at their task of refixing the hydroplane, men had to be toldoff to keep the floes away from the submarine's bows.
Suddenly Cassidy, who was engaged in red-leading the newly-fixedperiscopes, gave a shout of surprise.
"Sw'elp me!" he exclaimed, pointing at a small brown object showingclearly on the glistening field of ice. "There's Mr. Fordyce's dawg."
The animal had made her way across the expanse of frozen water untilshe gained the edge of the still-open channel, on which slabs of iceof varying sizes and thickness were drifting.
Informed of Flirt's return by the A.B.'s shout, theLieutenant-Commander whipped out his binoculars.
"By Jove," he exclaimed, "the little beast's about to swim for it!She'll be done in, Macquare."
Even if the dog managed to withstand the low temperature of thewater, she would be in considerable danger from the drifting floes.Quickly the Hon. Derek rose to the occasion and ordered the Berthonto be launched.
The collapsible boat was unfolded in record time and dropped over theside on the ice. Three men, one of whom was Cassidy, followed, and,grasping the gunwale, urged the Berthon forward like a sleigh acrossthe 300 yards of frozen water that separated the submarine from thecanal.
"Avast there, Flirt!" shouted Cassidy when the boat drew withinhailing distance, for the terrier was dipping one paw into the wateras a preliminary to jumping in.
At the sound of the A.B.'s voice Flirt cocked one ear, gave a yelp ofwelcome, and leapt from the fixed ice to a detached piece that haddrifted within reach.
"Silly little josser!" exclaimed another of the Berthon's crew as thefloe tilted under the dog's weight. It looked as if the animal wouldslide backwards in spite of her frantic efforts to find a firmfoothold. Not until her body was half immersed did the sheet of icerecover itself, only to tilt in the opposite direction andprecipitate Flirt into the bitterly cold water.
Slipping and floundering, the three men pushed the boat to the edgeof the canal, then, heedless of the danger of the sharp edge rippingthe canvas hull, they launched her and leapt in.
"Give way for all you're worth!" shouted Cassidy, who, in the absenceof a rudder, gave the rowers directions by pointing with his hand.
Already Flirt was showing signs of exhaustion. Her fore-paws werethreshing the water, instead of moving strongly and noiselesslybeneath the surface. Her hind-quarters were sinking lower, while herhead was thrown well back--sure signs that the task she hadundertaken was beyond her power.
"Way 'nough!" ordered Cassidy. "Grab her, Bill!"
The seaman addressed boated his oar and leant over the gunwale, but,caught by the stiff breeze, the lightly-built craft drifted toleeward, just beyond arm's length of the now-benumbed animal. Beforethe man could grasp his oar, Flirt disappeared beneath the surface.
Without hesitation Cassidy took a header over the pointed stern ofthe Berthon, to reappear ten seconds later with Flirt firmly held bythe scruff of her neck. Willing hands relieved the brave sailor ofhis burden and helped him into the boat.
"Crikey! Ain't it 'orribly parky!" he exclaimed. "'Ere, Bill, give mean oar before I'm frozen stiff."
"'Ow about it?" enquired Bill, who, having taken Cassidy's place inthe stern-sheets, was devoting his attention to the now torpid dog."Do the 'Instructions for the Treatment of the Apparently Drowned'hold good for a bloomin' animile? Lumme, what's she got lashed round'er neck--'er kit in a brown-paper parcel, I believe."
"Don't heave it overboard," protested Cassidy, as Bill cut thelashings. "Strike me pink! There's writing on it--'Prisoners in acellar in this house.--Fordyce'. Hallo! This is news for our skipper.Flirt, old girl, you're a brick!"
Flirt, beginning to take a renewed interest in life, feebly waggedher stumpy tail. Perhaps she was rather glad she wasn't one in theliteral sense of the word, as a brick would have made a poor show inthe waters of the Neva.
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