CHAPTER XXI
The House in Bobbinsky Prospekt
"I'll risk it, Macquare," decided the Hon. Derek. "The responsibility's mine. If we are able to effect repairs and get away before the Baltic is closed by the ice we'll be able to do a little strafing on our own account. In that case I don't suppose I'll be rapped over the knuckles if we get home. If we don't, well—we shan't be alive, and official reprimand won't worry us then."
"I agree, sir," said the Lieutenant. "Obeying orders is all very well in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. In the present instance the Admiralty hasn't taken into consideration our defects. The instructions were issued, I presume, on the assumption that we are in working trim."
"Yes," concurred the Hon. Derek. "And, knocked about as we are, it wouldn't be fair on the men to attempt to run the gauntlet of the Sound. They'd go like a shot, I'm absolutely convinced, but I'm hanged if I'll sacrifice them needlessly. So, all being well, Cronstadt is our next port of call."
Dawn was breaking when R19, piloted by the Russian destroyer Zabiyaka, came within sight of the supposedly-impregnable island fortress. Everywhere the numerous fort-batteries were displaying the flag of the Republic, while to show that watch and ward were still being kept a couple of shots were fired wide of the destroyer.
Presently an armed launch put out and a brisk exchange of words took place between the port officials and the Captain-Lieutenant of the Zabiyaka, which ended in the latter rather reluctantly ordering the Blue Cross Ensign to be struck and replaced by the emblem of Red Republicanism.
This done, the destroyer was ordered to proceed to a certain anchorage, while R19, under the charge of a Russian pilot, entered the naval arsenal.
Here lay the bulk of the Russian Baltic Fleet, many of the ships bearing evidences of German gun-fire. A large proportion of the crews had gone to Petrograd to take part in a demonstration; others had deserted in order to return to their homes and join in the general policy of grab; while those who remained were promenading the streets and quays, singing revolutionary songs and drinking deeply of vodka.
"See what liberty, equality, and fraternity do for a nation, Fordyce," remarked the Hon. Derek, indicating a group of roysterers gathered round a barrel on the quarter-deck of a large battleship. Utterly indifferent to the presence of their officers, the seamen were already in advanced stages of intoxication. Any attempt to enforce discipline would doubtless result in ghastly butchery, for already the crews of certain ships had risen and murdered their officers.
"A good object-lesson for British pacifists, sir," rejoined Fordyce. "And these fellows don't seem particularly favourably-disposed towards us."
"No, indeed," said the Lieutenant-Commander. "However, we must find out how the land lies. The main point is to get material; we can then execute the work ourselves, for it is a moral cert. that there isn't a Russian workman available."
The Hon. Derek's surmise proved to be correct, for when an appeal for assistance was made to the newly-appointed commandant of the arsenal the request was met with scant consideration. German gold and Hun propaganda had done their work effectively, and already there was a strong anti-British feeling amongst the soldiers, sailors, and workmen.
Enquiries resulted in the information that already the other British submarines had left, while the armoured-car detachments operating on the Eastern Front were under orders for Archangel and home. Until Russia found her feet and her reason the assistance of her allies would be utterly wasted.
Undeterred, R19's crew set to work to make good defects. Since no dry dock was available, the task of removing the bent hydroplane had to be carried out by her own divers. Ashore, a small workshop had been placed at their disposal, and a limited quantity of material was forthcoming. Provided no hitch occurred, the Hon. Derek hoped to have his command ready for sea within a fortnight.
"Look here, Fordyce," he remarked one morning, "I want you to take this dispatch to the Embassy. There's no immediate hurry, so if you care to spend a few days in Petrograd you may. If you do, keep your eyes and ears open."
"Thank you, sir!" replied the Sub. "I may have the chance of calling on Vladimir Klostivitch."
"By Jove, yes!" exclaimed the Lieutenant-Commander. "I'd forgotten all about that consignment of 'diamonds'. It's a dangerous business, I fancy. It was not at all unusual for a man to disappear in Russia during the Imperial regime. Under the republic the opportunities for removing a person would be far greater. What do you propose to do?"
"Carry out the original suggestion, sir," replied Fordyce. "Hand Klostivitch a dummy packet, and then try to bluff him into giving details of the Russian Anarchist Society in London. The chief thing is, I take it, to find out where this nitro-talcite is secretly manufactured. Obviously it is somewhere in England, or there wouldn't be such a fuss made to smuggle the stuff into Russia."
"Quite right," agreed the Hon. Derek. "For my part I wouldn't trouble if they blew themselves to bits. It would be one solution of the difficulty. Of far more importance is the discovery of the place of manufacture, since the explosive would be of considerable use against friend Fritz. But, look here, I don't like the idea of your tackling the business single-handed. If I weren't compelled to remain here, as skipper of this craft, I'd go with you like a shot. How about Macquare?"
"He'd jump at it, sir; only a similar objection holds. As an executive officer he cannot well be spared. Might I take Chalmers?"
"By all means, providing he is willing," agreed the Lieutenant-Commander. "You'd have to introduce him, I take it, as a British sympathizer and delegate. All right; speak to him, and make your own arrangements."
The petty officer accepted the invitation with alacrity, even before Fordyce explained what was required of him.
"It's quite all jonnick, sir," he declared when the Sub outlined his plan. "If needs be I'd trot along rigged up as a chimpanzee or a Hottentot. And if there's a chance of a scrap, I'm on it."
"I don't think there will be, Chalmers," replied the Sub. "Tact and discretion are what is required."
So it was arranged that Fordyce should go as the mouthpiece of the supposed delegate. On the supposition that Klostivitch knew nothing of the English language, there would then be very little chance of the redoubtable petty officer "giving himself away".
The two adventurers journeyed to Petrograd in a Russian steamer that ran regularly between Cronstadt and the capital. With them went Naval-Lieutenant Rodsky, who, his present task completed, was on his way to report at the Flying School.
The Russian was openly despondent at the state of affairs in his country. Like thousands, perhaps millions, of his countrymen, he deeply regretted the revolution, and longed for the return of the Little Father from his exile in far-off Tobolsk. While admitting that there were grave defects in the administration of his country under the rule of the Tsar, he realized that then Russia was a nation. Now it was but a heterogeneous collection of undeveloped races, loosely held by a corrupt, quarrelsome, and incapable body of self-constituted rulers, and fast slipping into the gulf of utter ruin.
Having delivered his dispatch, Fordyce was able to obtain quarters for himself and Chalmers at the home of a British resident. In a sense it was fortunate that the hitherto elaborate police system of espionage had been swept away, and consequently the two men had no difficulty in obtaining civilian clothes. Fordyce would have liked to have brought his faithful dog, but in this matter he had been overruled by his sense of caution. A visitor from England would not go to the trouble and expense of bringing a dog with him. So Flirt was left on board under the care of the ship's company in general, and Able Seaman Cassidy in particular.
No. 19 Bobbinsky Prospekt was a three-storied stone house in the Vassili Ostroff quarter of the capital. Adjoining it on the left was a slightly lower building. On the right a frozen stream separated it from a shop, the shuttered windows of which were riddled with bullet-holes. Electric trams were running along the Prospekt, each car carrying a machine-gun and a crew of Red Republican guards. At either end of the roadway were evidences of recent street fighting, for the hastily-constructed barricades were still partly in existence.
"Now for it, Chalmers!" exclaimed Fordyce, as he knocked boldly with the rusty iron knocker.