CHAPTER XXIII.
THE STRUGGLE IN THE CUTTING.
POSSIBLY no one was more astonished than Terence to find himself afull-blown lieutenant. Yet it was a fact and a pleasant surprise,especially when he had misgivings as to the unorthodox method ofdestroying the hostile submarine.
Promotion, he knew, meant an appointment to another ship. That wasthe fly in the ointment, for in spite of certain discomforts thatlife on a destroyer brings in its train, he had become thoroughlyattached to the "Livingstone."
He had hopes that his old skipper, Captain Holloway, late of the"Terrier," might use his influence in getting him appointed to the"Bombard"--a modern light-cruiser which Captain Holloway had recentlycommissioned, and which, according to well-founded rumours, was toproceed to the Mediterranean to take part in the operations againstthe Dardanelles.
It was therefore with mixed feelings that Terence found himselfappointed to his old ship, the armed merchantman "Strongbow," which,having completed her extensive repairs and refit at Aberdeen, was tobe recommissioned, as far as practicable, with her former officersand crew.
The newly-appointed lieutenant was sorry, since it meant beingrelegated to the somewhat monotonous, although necessary task ofpatrolling, instead of having a chance to smell powder on one of thefighting ships. Unless an unforeseen incident occurred, thepossibilities of quitting the patrol service seemed very remote. Thenumber of hostile mines in the North Sea had been steadily reduced bysystematic sweeping while the German pirate submarines seemed to givethe northern area of the North Sea a wide berth--possibly owing tothe fact that there was more scope for the despicable energies in theChannel and in the vicinity of the great mercantile ports. Thus theelement of risk that prevailed in the earlier stages of the war hadbeen considerably diminished; henceforth, according to Aubyn'sopinion, patrol work would be one long round of cruising, examiningneutral vessels, and, perhaps, making a few isolated captures ofships carrying suspected contraband.
Yet it was his duty, and he accepted it in the spirit of a trueBritish seaman: he had to obey orders even if they entailed work of acheerless and uneventful character.
On the other hand, Terence was pleased at the thought of having tomeet his former comrades. Nor would the severe climatic conditions beso intense. The days were longer and the nights correspondinglyshorter, and although the temperature was low and the Equinoctialgales about due, the fact that spring was rapidly approaching was initself sufficient compensation for the passing rigours of patrol workin the North Sea.
The lieutenant had two clear days before rejoining the "Strongbow,"which had left Aberdeen and put into Leith to replenish magazines andbunkers. Owing to the dislocation of the train service through themoving of large numbers of troops from the North to Salisbury Plain,Terence knew that it would be unwise to delay his journey. Hetherefore decided to proceed straight to Edinburgh, put up for thenight, and go on to Leith on the following morning.
Arriving in London he seized the chance of visiting a theatre incompany with some friends, knowing that it might be months before asimilar opportunity occurred again; then, having had supper, hecaught the night mail train to the north.
There were comparatively few passengers. The lieutenant, finding thathe had a first-class carriage to himself, thought it best to spendthe tedious journey by snatching a few hours' sleep.
Accustomed to slumber under awkward conditions he was soon lost inoblivion. How long he slept he had no idea. Suddenly he was awakenedby the hurried application of the brakes. The train slowed down soquickly that the alteration of momentum wellnigh threw him off theseat. He glanced at his watch. It was ten minutes past two. Underordinary circumstances the journey was a non-stop one, the mailsbeing dropped or taken up by means of nets while the train was inmotion.
Curiosity prompted Terence to open the window and look out. It was apitch dark night. Rain was falling in a steady drizzle. The lamps inthe carriages had been screened by drawing the blinds, as aprecaution against hostile air-raids, but in many cases thepassengers had rushed to the windows. Thus the glare of the lampsshowed the lieutenant that the train had come to a standstill in arocky cutting.
"Rotten night," commented Aubyn to himself.
He looked along the line. The signals were not set at danger, for ahundred yards ahead of the engine a bright green light gleamedthrough the mirk.
"What's up, guard?" asked Terence, as that official, followed by twoor three passengers, walked briskly along the permanent way. Alreadyhe had gone to the front part of the train to confer with the driver,and was now on his way back.
"Man killed or something," replied the guard vaguely. "A soldierstopped the train--one of them chaps guarding the tunnel. You're nota doctor, by any chance, sir? We had half a dozen ships' doctors inthe train last night."
"I am not," replied Terence. "But I'll go with you, in case I can beof any use."
Buttoning his great-coat up to his chin and pulling the peak of hiscap well over his eyes, the lieutenant descended and joined thelittle band of volunteer helpers.
The rear end of the train was only just clear of the tunnel, sopromptly had the driver brought the engine to a standstill. Lying bythe side of the rail was a motionless figure in khaki, while standingby him and still grasping his rifle and bayonet was another soldier.
"No doctor, my man," declared the guard. "I've inquired of everycarriage. How did it happen? We didn't run over your mate, did we?"
"No," replied the Tommy, an elderly National Reservist. He wasshaking like a leaf. "No, it was that goods train. Cut his foot offas clean as a bloomin' whistle. But that ain't the point. Poor oldBill was put across the metals, only the bloke didn't do the jobproperly."
"What?" exclaimed the guard incredulously.
"Truth--honest truth--an' my eyesight ain't at fault, even thoughit's a beastly dark night. Bill was standin' easy over there. I wasabout here. S'elp me, as true as I'm a-standin' here, I saw a blokespring upon my chum and push him across the line. Afore I could upwith my rifle the train comes tearing along. When it had gone it wastoo late. The bloke had done a bunk. And," he added reminiscently,"Bill was a right good sort. Never had a grudge against nobody, so itlicks me why the fellow wanted to out him."
Meanwhile, Terence had been paying attention to the unfortunatesentry. The man was dead. His left foot had been severed at theankle. That in itself would hardly be sufficient to cause death.
"Turn your light this way, guard," said Aubyn, as he began tounbuckle the man's ammunition pouches and to unbutton his coat. Athin streak of blood upon the victim's shirt told its own tale. Hehad been shot--evidently by a small yet powerful pistol at closerange, for the great-coat and buff straps were pitted with the grainsof powder.
"Did you hear a shot fired?" demanded Terence.
"No, sir," replied the Tommy. The suggestion of a shot being firedaroused a new train of ideas in his mind. "No, sir; see, his riflehasn't been discharged."
"I mean, did you hear a shot being fired at him?"
The sentry shook his head.
"The man's been murdered by a pistol shot, right enough," declaredTerence. "Either the noise of the train deadened the report, or elsethe murderer muffled the weapon in a cloth. The best thing you cando, guard, is to take the poor fellow's body on to the next station."
"An my relief ain't due for another hour and a quarter!" gasped theremaining sentry. He had been completely unnerved at the sight of hischum being foully done to death.
"All right, my man," said Terence, "I'll stop with you. I suppose Ican get to Edinburgh by another train, guard?"
"Yes, sir," replied that official. "Next station's only a matter ofthree or four miles. But you won't be lonely. There's half a dozentroop trains on the up-line within the next three hours. I'll takethe corpse, sir, if these gents'll bear a hand. 'Tain't the firstpoor chap that's been done in like this: not by a long way.Good-night, sir, and good luck."
Presently the mail train resumed its journey. The sentry, nervouslyfing
ering his rifle, seemed grateful to the young officer, but at thesame time he regarded him with a certain amount of suspicion. Perhapshis naval uniform was a disguise. He might be an accomplice of theman who had murdered his chum. Troop trains? That started a freshchain of surmises. This dastardly act might be that of a spy, intentupon damaging the tunnel and wrecking the crowded trains.
"Look here, my man," said the lieutenant, "are you game to going andstanding where your chum was posted?"
"What for, sir?" asked the soldier, with obvious reluctance at thesuggestion.
"Oh, never mind. I'll go. You remain here. If you see or hearanything suspicious, don't hesitate--shoot. You're a fairly goodshot, I hope?"
"Don't know about that, sir; I feel all of a tremble."
"Then fire anywhere, as long as you don't wing me. I want you to propyourself between these two rocks and keep as quiet as you possiblycan. Don't let yourself be seen. I'll take your chum's rifle. If youhear me fire, hop across the line as sharp as you can, with yourbayonet at the charge. Buck up, man, and keep your nerves."
Having seen the sentry take up the position indicated--in a nicheformed by two large boulders in the side of the cutting--Terencesecured the rifle and bayonet of the dead man. The rifle was amagazineless '303, with Martini action, similar to those issued totroops engaged in home defence.
Donning the pouches of the unfortunate sentry, the lieutenant tookout a cartridge, inserted it into the breech and closed thebreech-block. Then, having ascertained by touch that the back-sightwas down, he crossed the line and commenced to walk the murderedsentry's beat.
In the darkness his naval cap and great-coat were not to bedistinguished from those of the man he was impersonating. He feltcertain that should the crime have been committed by a German agent,the reason was the destruction of the tunnel. When the mail trainstopped, the miscreant would certainly betake himself to a safedistance; but with his work uncompleted, he would almost certainlyreturn. He had marked the time when the two sentries were posted heknew when their reliefs were expected. Before that time he mustrender the second sentry incapable of raising an alarm and thenproceed with the blocking of the line.
In his operations the spy had made one serious blunder. He had shotthe sentry, as had been surmised, and had thrown his body on the linein front of the goods train, so that it would be taken for grantedthat the luckless man had been knocked down while incautiouslywalking his beat. But instead of the train mangling the victim's bodyand thus destroying all traces of the fatal shot, the wheels had onlysevered one of the unfortunate man's feet.
For half an hour Terence maintained his sentry-go. The rain was nowfalling heavily. His great-coat felt as weighty as lead. The moisturedropped from the peak of his cap and filled the palm of his left handas he held the butt of his rifle.
The sub.'s nerves were in splendid condition. The hand that held therifle was as steady as a rock. With eyes and ears strained he pacedto and fro, prepared at the least sound to face about, bring hisrifle to the ready and fire.
From a strategic point of view his position was an unsound one. Bythe remaining sentry's description the miscreant must have retiredfrom the scene of action not by running into the tunnel but byscaling the fairly accessible wall of rock. Consequently theanticipated attack would be from that direction, and Terence wasliable to be fired at from a height of from ten to fifty feet abovehis head.
Presently a dull but increasing rumble greeted his ears. It was alocal down-train, which had just entered the far end of the tunnel.Instead of grounding the butt of his rifle and facing the line, as hehad seen other sentries do, the lieutenant marched to the mouth ofthe tunnel; then, leaning his shoulder hard against the massive stonebuttress, waited for the train to pass.
A vivid flame spurted from the opposite side of the cutting, followedpractically simultaneously by a sharp report that outvoiced the roarof the train. The sentry, without waiting to challenge, had "letrip."
Bringing his rifle to the ready, Terence waited. He had not long towait. Silhouetted against the gloomy rain-laden sky--for by this timeTerence's eyes were used to the darkness--appeared the head, arms andshoulders of a man. In his right hand he held an automatic pistol,and was now blazing away indiscriminately, judging by the splash offlame that stabbed the night in varying directions. He seemed to beleaning over a rock in the side of the cutting with the intention,now that he had been fired upon, to get at close quarters with thesentry.
Bringing his rifle to his shoulder Terence aimed low and pressed thetrigger. The fellow gave no convulsive spring; he merely toppled overand fell on the permanent way just as the train emerged, with a rushand a roar and a dense cloud of steam, from the tunnel.
Jerking the lever of his breech-block, the lieutenant inserted afresh cartridge. He still kept close to the buttress, even after thetrain had passed. Experience had taught him the necessity for cautionin dealing with a wily foe. Not that he feared anything from the manwho had been shot. His headlong tumble down the almost precipitousside of the cutting was too realistic for a person shamming death.
The soldier, emerging from his shelter, began to cross the line.Before he was half-way across, another shot rang out from the top ofthe cutting. The Tommy collapsed in a heap.
Terence let him lie. His whole attention was centred upon the spotfrom whence the last bullet had sped. With his rifle ready to belifted to his shoulder, Aubyn waited like a hunter stalking his prey.
He knew that he would not have to wait long. A desperate attempt wasbeing made to destroy the tunnel--an attempt in which the lives oftwo or more men mattered but little provided success attended themiscreants' efforts. The firer of the last shot, he reasoned,imagined that with the murder of the first sentry, he had only oneman to deal with, and now he was lying motionless on the ballast.Thinking that "the coast was clear" the desperado would presentlyshow himself.
A hunched-up shape appeared at the top of the embankment. Some onewas descending with his face towards the rock. He was progressingslowly and cautiously, making certain that he had obtained a firmfoothold before he groped for a lower one. Every now and then hewould turn his head and look towards the doubled-up body of thesentry, till, satisfied that there was no danger in that direction,he gave his whole attention to his descent.
Levelling his rifle, Terence took deliberate aim. He had no qualms inso doing. The fellow was a murderer and train-wrecker, andundoubtedly an agent of the German Government. The lieutenant wasalone and unsupported. If he should be "done in" there would be nofurther obstacle between the miscreant and the success of hisdiabolical scheme. Besides, there might be more than two men engagedin the enterprise, which, if it matured, might mean the death ofperhaps hundreds of human beings.
Terence aimed fairly in the centre of the climber's back. It affordedthe best target in the darkness.
With no more compunction than if he were shooting a rat, thelieutenant pressed the trigger.
The report of the rifle was outvoiced by a loud detonation,accompanied by a vivid flash. For one moment Terence stood stockstill, his eyes temporarily blinded by the sudden glare. Then herealized that his cap had gone. His face was wet, not with the chillyrain but with a warm moisture. Something had struck him on the cheek,inflicting a small cut from which the blood flowed freely.
"A pretty rumpus!" he soliloquized. "The rotter has plugged me--no,it can't be that. It's only a slight gash. I wonder if he hurled abomb."
"Blowed to atoms, sir; that's what's happened to him--the blighter!"exclaimed a voice that seemed to come from the ground.
"I thought you were a dead man, by Jove!" exclaimed Terence bluntly,as he recognized the sentry by his voice.
"Not yet, sir," replied the man. "He put a bullet through myleg--just above the knee. It don't hurt much, but it kippered me, soI thought I'd lie low and see what happened. I'd a cartridge ready,though, in case of an accident."
"We ought to stop the next train," said Terence, as he stooped torecover his cap. "The rail might be damaged. I t
hink that fellow hada few detonators on him, and my shot did the trick. How did you stopthe train I was in?"
"Had a lantern, sir. It's somewhere along the line. But our chapsmust have heard the racket, an the sergeant'll be coming along inhalf a tick."
"Wind the wrong way," declared Terence laconically. "I'll bandagethat leg of yours and then I'll get the lantern."
The miscreant's bullet--from a small calibre high velocitypistol--had passed completely through the soldier's leg, fortunatelywithout severing any arteries. Having attended to the wound andbidden the man sit down by the side of the bank, Aubyn set out on hissearch.
It was a fruitless quest. Other means had to be found to bring thetroop train to a standstill.
"There's a signal a couple of hundred yards down the line, sir,"announced the sentry. "It's worked from a box a long way off. Maybe,sir, you can climb up and tie this red handkerchief of mine over thegreen light."
Terence took the handkerchief. He knew that the plan was a uselessone, since the result would be a semi-opaque gleam, as the red wouldneutralize the green. But the red cloth might come in handy. Thematter was urgent, for the train was about due.
As he passed along the up-line his progress was checked by anenormous boulder that, dislodged by the explosion, had fallen on thepermanent way and across one of the metals. Its weight was far beyondhis strength to move.
Skirting the obstruction the lieutenant broke into a run, keeping upa hot pace till he reached the foot of the signal post. Already thered disc had changed to green, showing that, to the signalman'sbelief, the line was clear.
Terence knew that if the operating rod could be severed the signalarm would, by reason of a weighted lever, rise to the "stop"position. He tugged savagely at it, but without success. A spannermight have saved the situation, but he was without such an article.
Suddenly an idea flashed through his mind. Ascending the swayingladder, he gained the platform just below the arm. Here he couldreach the discs with comparative ease.
"Wind's right direction," he muttered. "Can't blow the light outvery well, so here goes."
Unlacing and pulling off his boot, Terence made a determinedonslaught upon the thick green glass. It stoutly resisted severalblows, cracking at the sixth and shivering out of its frame at thetwo next. As the lieutenant had foreseen the now open space was awayfrom the wind, and beyond a slight unsteadiness the lamp burned well.
Knotting the red handkerchief across the open disc, Terence descendedto take a more remote view of his handiwork. The red light shonesufficiently bright to be observed at a considerable distance, but asa matter of precaution he held his rifle ready to fire into the airto attract the attention of the driver of the on-coming troop train.
"Here she comes," exclaimed Terence, as a dull rumble could be heardin the distance. Presently a cloud of flame-tinged smoke announcedthat the engine had rounded the curve.
Terence raised his rifle, but there was no need to fire. With a loudgrinding of brakes, accompanied by showers of sparks, the train drewup, the engine coming to a standstill within eighty yards of thesignal post.
"What's up now, mate?" demanded the engine-driver, as, leaning overthe side of the "cab" he saw what he imagined to be one of thesoldiers whom he knew to be stationed on either side of the tunnel.
"Line blocked," replied Terence. "And what's more, two men killedand another injured."
Leaving the driver to act for himself, Terence passed along the rowof stationary carriages, filled with troops, who, for the most part,were singing uproariously. A few were looking out of the windows, butthe pulling up of the train had aroused but little curiosity. Theywere already too used to being held up on sidings, even in the courseof a comparatively short journey.
At the first first-class carriage he came to, Terence clambered on tothe foot-board and opened the door. Within were a couple of majors, acaptain and a lieutenant enjoying a hand of cards. Briefly Aubyn toldthem of what had occurred, and suggested that an investigation shouldbe made of the victims while the line was being cleared.
"Good idea, by Jove!" exclaimed the senior field-officer.
Alighting, he blew a whistle. The uproar ceased as if by magic, andthe men began to descend from the train. For the most part theyimagined that a Zeppelin had been sighted. They treated thepossibility almost with indifference, but their interest was quicklyexcited when they learned that an attempt had been made to derail orblow up the train.
Accompanied by several of the officers, and escorted by the driverand the guard of the train and a score of soldiers, Terence led theway. The obstruction had, fortunately, not fractured either the railor the chairs. By the aid of plenty of willing helpers, the rock waslevered back into a shallow ditch at the foot of the cutting. Thenthere was just room for the train to pass, for the stone was nearlyten feet in circumference.
"Here's the sentry," announced Terence, indicating the woundedsoldier.
A number of men carried the luckless Tommy into one of the carriages,where he was promptly attended to by a captain of the R.A.M.C., whileit was decided to detail two of the men from the troop train to mountguard until the proper reliefs arrived. Meanwhile, the wounded mancould be taken to the nearest station, close to which was a hospitalwhere he could be well looked after.
By this time there was light in plenty. Terence had no idea that atrain carried so many lamps.
The next task was to look for the bodies of the two miscreants. Thatof the first was discovered in a ditch. He had been shot through theforehead and through the body, either wound being sufficient to causedeath.
The explanation was simple: one of the wounds had been caused by thebullet from the sentry's rifle. The victim in his death agonies hadconvulsively gripped the trigger of his automatic pistol, and thushad caused the fusillade Terence had seen and heard. When he fired,the lieutenant's bullet had also struck the fellow, but by that timehe was already a corpse.
A further search revealed a considerable cavity blown into the sideof the embankment. The rocks around were scorched by the heat of theexplosion, which had horribly mangled the corpse of the secondconspirator, although strangely enough his features were hardlyinjured.
A light was flashed upon his face. Terence recognized it instantly.It was that of Major von Eckenhardt, master-spy and desperateplotter.
The rascal had met with his deserts. After his escape from EdinburghCastle he had, according to his usual practice, laid low for a time.Then, owing to the adroit manner in which the authorities had madeuse of his secret wireless installation, the German Admiralty founditself landed into a very awkward situation on more than oneoccasion. It was not until von Eckenhardt contrived to send a secretmessage to his employers, explaining the reason for his failure, thatthe German authorities realized that they had been tricked. In replycame a message savouring of a reprimand. Von Eckenhardt ought, itsaid, to have taken greater precautions to prevent sucheventualities. Finally the message hinted pretty broadly that an actof signal service to the Fatherland would alone atone for theblunders that the spy had made.
Von Eckenhardt was desperate. He knew that the German Secret Servicehad no mercy for its servants who had failed. Indeed, he wondered whyhe had been given another chance. By the implied tone of thecommunication he realized that he had to undertake a "forlorn hope."If successful, then, perhaps, he might be reinstated into favour;otherwise it would be preferable to die rather than face the penaltyfor failure.
Hitherto, he had been more or less a director of the spy system. Withthe exception, perhaps, of the part he played in attempting to wreckthe "Saraband," he had kept aloof from the actual espionage work.Now, he decided he must employ his energies in a direct attack uponthe resources of the British Empire.
The news of forthcoming movements on a large scale of troops from theNorth of England and Salisbury Plain suggested the great possibilityof a striking example of German "frightfulness." He knew that thebridges and tunnels would be slenderly guarded, for the precautionsadopted by the British
Government at the commencement of hostilitieshad slackened.
Accordingly, accompanied by an accomplice who had acted the part ofservant at Tuilabrail Hall, he motored to a town within a few milesof the tunnel he had selected for his nefarious designs. It was asimple matter to bluff the proprietor of their hotel, while to excusetheir late hours, von Eckenhardt resolved to send a wire from a placetwenty miles distant, announcing the breakdown of the car. Then,returning to within half a mile of the tunnel, the two miscreantsleft the car in a field and walked stealthily towards the scene oftheir proposed operations.
"Time I was out of this," thought Terence. He had no desire to bedragged into a long-winded coroner's inquest and the subsequentofficial inquiries. His evidence would not alter matters in thefaintest degree. Von Eckenhardt would be identified without his help,and publicity he shrank from.
No one attempted to question the lieutenant as to his name. In theexcitement such a procedure never entered the heads of the militaryauthorities. So, without attracting the least attention, Terencewalked quietly away, scaled the embankment, crossed a couple ofploughed fields and struck a roadway.
It was growing light as he entered the town. At a drinking fountainhe washed the dried blood from his face, and having brushed the mudfrom his uniform, made his way to the railway station.
Here, exciting little attention, he obtained a ticket to York; hadbreakfast at the station, and boarded the next express to Edinburgh.For the time being, at least, he had evaded the consequences ofhaving performed another duty for King and country.