The Mystery Ship 23

The Mystery Ship 23

"It is presumed that the genial captain of this vessel," continued

Jefferson, "has not yet invested in a cinematograph. If he had it

would be reasonable to suppose that he would have us on deck at

regular intervals, supply us with cigarettes and cock-tails, and at

the same time take a film to let neutrals know how benevolent and

humane the Hun is when he is on the warpath. I am afraid my surmise

is correct. Therefore we languish in captivity."

 

"Anyone any idea of the time?" inquired Cumberleigh. "My watch says

half-past three, but I can't depend upon it."

 

"Mine shows ten o'clock," reported Blenkinson, consulting the

luminous dial of his wristlet watch. "Unfortunately it omits to

inform me whether it is AK Emma or PIP Emma, and I'm hanged if I know

which it is."

 

"My watch went west the day before yesterday," said Jefferson. "The

best Waterbury in existence is not proof against the back-fire of a

six-cylinder car. Now if that fellow Fennelburt were here, he had a

ripping little watch, I noticed."

 

"By the way, what happened to Fennelburt?" inquired Cumberleigh.

 

"Happened?" echoed Jefferson. "Why he's in the cart, same as us. Hard

lines on the chap--taking him out on a joy trip and then landing him

in this mess."

 

Cumberleigh grunted. He was not at all sure that he agreed with

Jefferson's sentiments. Not that he had any suspicion that Fennelburt

had conjured up the U-boat to take the Salvage Syndicate prisoners.

The suggestion that the party should go fishing emanated from

himself. Yet it was somewhat curious that Fennelburt should be

separated from the others.

 

The three Auldhaig Air Station officers had had a sticky time during

the last twenty-four hours. During that period they had been twice

supplied with scanty and unappetising meals; they had dozed fitfully

in the foetid atmosphere of their cell, but up to the present they

had not been allowed on deck to get a breath of fresh air.

 

"Hope old Pyecroft pulled it off all right," remarked Blenkinson. He

had harped on the matter at least a dozen times. Pyecroft had been

his special pal. They had flown over the German lines together; they

had crashed in the same 'bus; they had spent six weeks in the same

hospital--in all, quite sufficient to cement a casual acquaintance

into a lifelong friendship.

 

"There's the chance, anyway," said Jefferson. "He may not have been

missed, and--hello what's the game now? They've stopped the motors."

 

The three men listened intently. The faintest alteration in the

rhythmic purr of the U-boat's engines set their nerves on edge. They

knew something of the fearfully ingenious devices used to strafe Hun

submarines, and now they were metaphorically at the business end of a

big gun, whereas formerly they had been behind it. It was a

disconcerting affair, exposed to unseen perils that might without

warning send them to their death in company with a crowd of Huns.

And, unless Pyecroft had succeeded in getting safely ashore, the

manner of their going would remain a secret for all time.

 

For several long-drawn seconds the trio listened in silence. They

knew by the difference in the pulsations of the motors that the

U-boat had been running on the surface. The diving-tanks had not been

filled, otherwise they would have heard the gurgling inrush of water.

For some reason the submarine had brought up and was drifting with

wind and tide.

 

A quarter of an hour elapsed, then the petrol-motors were restarted.

Very soon after the door of their cell was unlocked and a couple of

Hun seamen appeared.

 

"Come you on deck!" one exclaimed, with such a broad smile that

Cumberleigh and Co. suspected a dirty trick on the part of Fritz.

 

"Anything to get a breather," ejaculated Blenkinson. "Lead on, old

bird!"

 

In single file the three British officers followed their guide along

the intricate alley-way and on deck via the conning-tower hatchway.

 

A hurried glance gave no clue to the unexpected change of

environment. The U-boat was forging ahead. By noting the position of

the sun the captive officers knew that the course was approximately

east, and that direction led towards Germany. The skyline was

unbroken. Neither the proximity of land nor the presence of another

craft was evident to account for the change of attitude on the part

of their captors.

 

"We friends is," continued the Hun who had previously addressed them;

and as evidence of good faith he handed the Englishmen a box of

cigarettes.

 

The dearth of tobacco, cigars and cigarettes that had been noticeable

amongst the ratings during von Preugfeld's regime was now,

temporarily at least, a thing of the past. The former ober-leutnant's

cabin had been systematically ransacked, with the result that a

goodly store of tobacco had been discovered and distributed.

 

"What has gone wrong?" inquired Captain Cumberleigh, speaking slowly

in order to make himself understood. "Where are your officers?"

 

The seaman paused before replying. In order to ingratiate himself he

would not have hesitated to confess that the Prussian tyrants had

been thrown overboard; but in the event of the submarine making

Hamburg safely or else being overhauled by a vessel flying the Black

Cross Ensign, the knowledge that the Englishmen knew the secret might

prove decidedly awkward.

 

"They overboard fell, Herr Offizier," replied the German. "They stand

so, making what the Englisch sailors call 'shooting der sun.' A big

wave come an' pouf!--dey are gone."

 

Cumberleigh nodded. For the present he deemed it prudent to accept

the statement, although he was aware by the comparatively easy motion

that the U-boat had not encountered heavy weather. Nor had the German

sailor given any explanation why the collapsible canvas boat had not

been lowered to effect a rescue.

 

"And where is Captain Fennelburt?" he asked. "There were four of us

taken prisoners."

 

A blank look overspread the Teuton's heavy features. He extended his

palms in a manner that expressed complete disinterestedness.

 

Cumberleigh pressed the point. The Hun turned and consulted his

comrades. Apparently they had not taken this factor into their

calculations.

 

"I want no lies," continued Cumberleigh, who was rapidly finding his

feet. "What has become of the fourth officer (he was about to prefix

the word British, but somehow he checked himself) who was taken on

board?"

 

"Kapitan von Preugfeld him sent on land last night, Herr Offizier,"

announced the man.

 

"For what reason?"

 

"I do not know der plans of Kapitan von Preugfeld," explained the

German. "An' he not is here to ask."

 

This was simple, but none the less truthful logic. It was hardly

conceivable that the ober-leutnant should explain his actions to a

lower-deck rating.

 

"It's jolly rummy, any old way," remarked Blenkinson. "The whole

business is fishy--decidedly fishy. And I reckon that big wave yarn

won't go down."

 

Again the German strolled up, smiling and apparently unperturbed.

 

"You know der mine-fields, Herr Offizier?" he asked. "You can take us

to Zhermany?"

 

"All I know," replied Cumberleigh pointedly, "is that there are

mines--thousands of them--and that you're going straight for them. I

might add that I know the course to Auldhaig. It's a jolly sight

safer than barging along as you're doing."

 

The German apparently saw the wisdom of the suggestion. He retired to

consult his companions. On a Soviet-controlled ship everyone has to

have a say--with conflicting and other disastrous results.

 

Kaspar Krauss and Hans Furst vehemently opposed the suggestion,

which, considering the fact that they were the ringleaders in the

mutiny, was somewhat remarkable. The desire to get home overruled

their fears of running against a mine. Others, fearful lest the curse

be brought home to them, clamoured to be taken into a British port,

bringing forward the argument that German prisoners of war in England

were well treated and that no difference was made in the case of men

who had served in U-boats.

 

How long the drolly-conducted debate would have lasted remains a

matter for speculation, but it was brought to an abrupt and still

undecided conclusion by one of the men raising a shout and pointing

astern.

 

A vessel of some description was approaching rapidly. The enormous

"bone in her teeth" as her sharp bows cleft the waves into frothy

clouds of foam showed that she was moving at a terrific rate.

 

"An English ship!" exclaimed the fellow excitedly. "A U-boat hunter!

Quick, run up the white flag, or we'll be blown to bits!"

 

All was scurry bordering on panic. There was a hasty rush to find the

emblem of surrender. Hans Furst, gripping the interpreter by the

shoulders, shouted to him to ask the English officers to go aft and

stand in a conspicuous place.

 

Cumberleigh and his