CHAPTER VIII--CAST ADRIFT
Enrico Jaures, Spaniard on his father's side and German on his mother's,with a dash of almost every other Continental nation's blood in hisveins, lived or rather existed in a mean dwelling behind the King'sBastion, on the west side of Gibraltar.
Indolent, thriftless, and easy-going on the one hand, crafty andquarrelsome on the other, he possessed all the bad points thatcharacterise the criminal classes of the two countries where his parentsfirst saw the light. What he did for a living and how he earned moneywas a mystery even to his polyglot neighbours. Yet, without being welloff, he appeared to be always "flush" with money.
Contrary to the general demeanour of the Rock Scorps, Enrico Jauresexpressed no astonishment when the "Golden Hind" appeared over the highground beyond Algeciras. He was expecting the airship, although he hadto confess to himself that she had certainly arrived prematurely.Evidently this was not according to plan.
He sat, smoked innumerable cigarettes, and thought as deeply as ahalf-breed Spaniard can. Twice he got up, yawned, stretched himself andambled back to the house to partake of a meal consisting principally ofolives, garlic, and maize. Then back he came to his post of vantage andsat gazing stolidly at the five hundred feet of inflated gasbag ridingeasily to her wire cable, while her crew, bringing the airship close tothe surface, were busily engaged in pumping up petrol from atank-lighter.
The shadows were lengthening considerably when a white-robed Moorapproached the reclining Jaures--a dignified, olive-featured man,wearing a thick black beard and moustache.
"The Englishman has started," observed the new-comer, speaking inSpanish with a decidedly guttural accent.
"That I know," rejoined Enrico.
"But not so von Sinzig," continued the other in a low tone, giving afurtive glance over his shoulder. "Until he arrives at Massowah it isdoubtful whether he will know that this English airship is on his heels.Why is she here so soon?"
"I know not," replied Jaures. "Two men landed from her. They went inthe direction of Buena Vista."
The pseudo Moor shrugged his shoulders.
"Two thousand five hundred pesetas are awaiting you in the Banqua delEspiritu at Algeciras, friend Enrico," he said in a low voice. "Preventthat airship's departure even for twelve hours and the money will bepaid you."
"How can I?" asked Jaures, showing more interest than he had hithertodisplayed. "I cannot place a bomb on board her, like I did on board the_Henri Artois_ at Barcelona."
"S'sh! Not so loud," exclaimed the other warningly. "How you earn themoney is your affair."
The supposed Moor passed on, leaving Enrico Jaures gazing thoughtfullyat the British airship.
He sat and pondered until the refuelling operations were completed andthe "Golden Hind" allowed to rise a hundred feet above the sea. Withthe setting of the sun a gentle breeze sprang up from the nor'east,causing the hitherto almost motionless airship to sway as she fretted ather cable.
He waited until darkness had settled upon the scene, then once more madehis way into the house. This time he did not eat, but fortified himselfwith a long drink out of an earthenware bottle.
Drawing his knife, he carefully oiled the blade and replaced it in itssheath. Then, having selected a marline-spike from a tool box, he slungthe implement from his neck by means of a lanyard, hiding it under hiscoloured shirt.
These preparations completed, he walked slowly and unconcernedly to theOld Mole.
By this time the water-front was almost deserted. A patrol marchedstolidly down the street; Enrico stepped into the shelter of a narrowcourtyard until the khaki-clad party had disappeared; but before hecould resume he had to await the passing of a gaitered and belted navalpicquet.
The coast cleared, he reached the Mole. A tramp steamer and a fewfeluccas were moored alongside. Farther out a tug was engaged inshepherding a couple of large lighters alongside an East-bound liner,while changing red, white, and green lights betokened the presence ofswift-moving steamboats in the bay. Standing out against the faintstarlight he could discern the "Golden Hind." Even as he looked a gleamof light shot through the windows of one of the compartments, and thenanother, both being almost instantly screened.
"Two thousand five hundred pesetas," whispered Jaures to himself. "Agood price for a little swim."
Without troubling to remove any of his clothes, although he kicked offhis canvas shoes, Enrico cautiously descended a flight of steps untilhis feet touched the water. Listening to assure himself that no one wasabout, he glided in as noiselessly as an eel, and swam with slow, steadystrokes under the counter of the tramp and close to her wall sides untilhe gained her bows.
Taking his bearings of the airship's mooring-buoy, he resumed his easyprogress cautiously lest feathers of phosphorescent spray should betrayhis presence.
A quarter of an hour's swim brought him up to the mooring-buoy. Withconsiderable difficulty, for the large barrel-shaped buoy was coatedwith barnacles and slippery with seaweed, Enrico contrived to drawhimself clear of the water.
Again he waited, listening to the sounds emanating from the airship ahundred or a hundred and fifty feet overhead. The wire hawser, actingas a conductor, enabled him to hear with great distinctness, andpossessing a good knowledge of English he was able to pick up scraps ofconversation between the crew. That helped him but little, for theywere talking of matters as remote from the topic of the great race asthe Poles.
Enrico Jaures next devoted his attention to the shackle that secured thethimble spliced in the end of the cable to the big ring bolt of thebuoy.
He grunted with satisfaction when he discovered that the shackle wasthreaded and not secured by a forelock, but at the same time he found bythe sense of touch that whoever had been responsible for the job haddone his work well by securing the pin by means of a piece of flexiblewire.
This latter Jaures managed to cast loose, then, with the aid of hismarline-spike, he began to unfasten the shackle-pin, pausingoccasionally as the strain on the wire rope increased.
At last the deed was accomplished. The shackle-pin clattered upon therounded surface of the buoy and rebounded into the water; but almostsimultaneously Enrico Jaures found himself being whisked aloft. Asnap-hook at the end of a wire had caught in his belt, and there he was,suspended ignominiously like a horse being slung on board a ship,already a hundred feet or more above the surface of the sea.
His first impulse was to cut loose his belt and drop, but a downwardglance at the dark unfathomable void made him abruptly change his mind.
His sole thought was now that of self-preservation. Fearful lest hisleather belt should break and send him hurtling through space he clungdesperately to the wire.
Fax below him the lights of Gibraltar seemed to be gliding past as thefreed airship drifted towards the strait separating Europe from theAfrican shore.
It was bitterly cold aloft. The keenness of the rarefied air wasintensified by the fact that his clothes were saturated with salt water.A numbing pain crept down both arms. His muscles seemed to be crackingunder the strain, while his fingers closed round the wire until thenails sunk deep into his palms.
He shouted for help--his voice sounding more like the yelp of a jackalthan that of a human being. But no response came from the airship ahundred feet above him.
"Dios!" he exclaimed in agony. "This is indeed the end."