The Mystery Ship 14

The Mystery Ship 14

"One of our submarines, by Jove!" exclaimed Pyecroft. "Wonder what

she's doing here?"

 

"A Hun!" corrected Cumberleigh. "We're properly in the soup, you

fellows."

 

He gave a hurried glance in the only direction from which they could

expect aid--skywards. Not an aircraft of any description was in

sight. The gorgeous prospect of seeing a seaplane swoop down upon an

incautious Fritz was out of the question.

 

"Jefferson!" he shouted. "Run for it, man. Don't wait for us."

 

The owner of the _Pip-squeak_ took in the situation at a glance.

True, the U-boat was between him and the shore, but there was a stiff

leading wind. While the Hun was concentrating his attention upon the

X-lighter the sailing-boat had a fair chance of getting away, but

Jefferson was a "white man."

 

"No fear, old bird!" he shouted. "We're all in this stunt. I am

coming on board."

 

With that he ran the sailing-boat alongside the barge, and, without

waiting to lower the sail, leapt on deck and secured the painter.

 

Meanwhile the hatches of the U-boat had been thrown open and her two

guns manned and trained point-blank upon the helpless lighter.

 

"'Fraid this isn't the time for a death-or-glory stunt," remarked

Cumberleigh. "Fritz is evidently 'one up.'"

 

Of the five, "Captain Fennelburt" was the least perturbed. The spy

was distinctly annoyed at the unexpected turn of events. It looked as

if his carefully prepared campaign was to be nipped in the bud.

Consequently he was liable to heavy financial loss in addition to a

waste of valuable time, for his employers in Berlin paid only for

definite results. "No work, no pay," was the motto of the German

Secret Service, and before von Preussen could be landed in Great

Britain again weeks might elapse. As a secondary consideration, there

was the doubt of how he would be received by his compatriots. For

very good reasons he wished to conceal his identity from his

companions on the lighter. In spite of strenuous precautions, British

prisoners of war sometimes contrived to effect their escape, and it

would be a very serious matter for von Preussen if it became known

through the medium of a former captive in Germany that the

_soi-disant_ Captain Fennelburt was a Secret Service agent of the

German Intelligence Department.

 

"Gentlemen!" observed Pyecroft facetiously. "The R.A.F. Salvage

Syndicate is dissolved."

 

With her guns still trained upon the lighter, U 247 approached slowly

and with evident hesitation. At the back of von Preugfeld's mind

lurked the haunting suspicion that X 5 was a snare. The very

temptingness of the bait increased his suspicions. Perhaps a British

submarine was lying in wait to blow him and his U-boat to atoms; or

somewhere in the clouds a coastal airship was floating motionless,

awaiting an opportunity to swoop down and let loose an aerial torpedo

before the Germans had time to close hatches and submerge.

 

On the other hand, there was von Preussen, clad in a British R.A.F.

uniform and standing seemingly unconcerned upon the lighter's deck.

Surely, if there were a trap, the Hun would contrive to make a mute

signal to his compatriots.

 

Von Preussen gave none. He was content to let events take their

course.

 

Presently U 247 reversed engines and brought up within half a cable's

length of the barge. Clambering upon the raised platform abaft the

conning-tower, the kapitan raised a megaphone to his lips.

 

His delivery of English was execrable, but he was unaware of the

fact. He rather prided himself on the knowledge that he could speak

the language, having learnt it from a third-rate German professor in

a minor university in the Fatherland.

 

"You vos surrender make!" he shouted. "It all of an instant up is

mit you. Get into der leedle boat and put you yourselves on board dis

scheep. If you drouble giff, den we shoot."

 

"Right-o, old bean!" hailed Cumberleigh in reply.

 

Von Preugfeld was puzzled by the reply. Mentally he resolved at the

first opportunity to consult Volume II (Ba-Cu) of a British

Encyclopaedia that he had on board.

 

"Look you pointed about it!" he exclaimed angrily. "I you give half a

minute to quit der boat."

 

"Come on, boys!" said Cumberleigh. "The old josser's getting jumpy."

 

"Is that an order or a request, Cumberleigh?" asked Pyecroft. "If

it's an order, well and good; if not, I'm not having any."

 

"Please yourself, old man," replied the captain. "And the very best

of luck."

 

The four stepped into the _Pip-squeak_. Her sail was hurriedly

stowed, and under oars the boat approached the submarine.

 

"Der vos five!" exclaimed Ober-leutnant von Preugfeld, as the

prisoners came over the side. "Vere is der odder?"

 

A look of blank ignorance appeared on each man's face. Even the spy

failed to betray any sign that would reveal the secret. The kapitan

turned to a petty officer.

 

"Place these men below," he ordered.

 

"These three in No. 3 store-room; this one will go aft. You, there,"

he added, addressing another seaman. "Take an axe and knock out the

garboards of that boat."

 

Cumberleigh, Blenkinson and Jefferson found themselves escorted below

in double quick time. When fear hangs on the heels of a U-boat's crew

the promptness to execute an order borders on panic. Literally

hustled along a narrow alley-way bristling with dozens, nay, scores,

of valve-wheels, they were bundled into a dark, moisture-laden recess

that at one time contained a quantity of consumable stores. The door

was slammed and locked, and the three R.A.F. officers found

themselves prisoners of war under highly objectionable

circumstances--trapped in a U-boat.

 

Giving another glance skywards and all around the horizon, von

Preugfeld walked aft to the hatchway through which von Preussen had

disappeared. "I'll see you in the ward-room in less than five

minutes, von Preussen," he said. "Apparently this affair requires an

explanation. But what has become of the fourth Englishman?"

 

"Still on board," replied the spy. "He's trying to evade capture."

 

"There is an alternative," remarked the ober-leutnant grimly. "He's

welcome to it."

 

Making his way back to the outside of the conning-tower, von

Preugfeld noted that his order concerning the sailing-boat had been

carried out. Levelling his binocular, he scanned the shelving deck of

the X-lighter. There was no sign of life on board X 5.

 

Ringing for half speed, von Preugfeld increased the distance between

the U-boat and her prize to three hundred yards.

 

"Give her a round amidships!" he ordered.

 

The U-boat rolled sluggishly to starboard under the recoil of the

gun. Almost simultaneously with the report of the weapon came the

crash of exploding shell. Amidst a welter of foam and yellow smoke X

5 disappeared beneath the waves, leaving the water dotted with

floating debris in the shape of buoyant articles released from her

hold by the shattering of her hatches.

 

For a full half-minute the ober-leutnant kept the flotsam under

observation; then, satisfied that his work of destruction had been

accomplished in its entirety, and that to remain on the surface much

longer after the roar of the explosion was hazardous, he turned to

von Loringhoven.

 

"Down to twenty-five metres," he ordered. "Course due west at eight

knots for ten minutes. Then let her sound."

 

Leaving the unter-leutnant to carry out his instructions, von

Preugfeld made his way to the cabin where the returned spy awaited

him.

 

"I hardly expected to see you so soon, Karl," he began. "I hope I

haven't disturbed your elaborate plans."

 

"You have," replied the spy, with marked emphasis.

 

"_Himmel!_ How is that? Were you taken into the confidence of these

English officers, and were your investigations a secret project that

was being experimented upon to the disadvantage of the Fatherland?"

 

"You have put me to considerable inconvenience," replied von

Preussen. "My kit is at an hotel at Auldhaig."

 

"No compromising documents, I hope?" asked the kapitan anxiously.

 

"No; but a man cannot get about in comfort without his travelling

belongings," remarked the spy. "You will have to land me again, but

my venture in the Auldhaig district is a failure. It means that I

must make my way south and try my luck in Dover and Portsmouth. And I

was getting on so nicely with those fellows at the air station," he

added, little knowing to what purpose the hospitality had been

extended.

 

"And what was the experiment?" asked von Preugfeld.

 

"Experiment? There was no experiment," declared the spy. "Those fools

of Englishmen took a liking to me and insisted on my going with them

on a fishing expedition. We fell in with an almost water-logged

barge, and while we were exploring you appeared. Now comes the

question, where and when do you intend to set me ashore?"

 

Von Preugfeld's feelings were far from those of composure. On the one

hand, he had sunk an English vessel of sorts. It was true that she

looked like sinking before, but that was a side issue. He had made a

capture of three English officers and had killed a fourth.

Unfortunately, they were of no great rank as he had hoped--merely

junior officers. On the other hand, he would have to delay his return

journey in order to set von Preussen ashore. Stores, fuel and

provisions were already running short, and the delay would mean

considerable inconvenience, possibly danger. His afternoon's work,

like that of the bombardment of Aberspey, was not worth the candle.

 

"I have already carried out instructions with reference to yourself," he remarked stiffly.