CHAPTER X
A Choice of Two Evils
Siegfried Strauss did his level best to carry out his employer's instructions to hoodwink the abducted Villiers. For the first two days following Jack's return to consciousness the Englishman was treated with every possible consideration. At least that was how it struck Villiers.
Hourly his strength returned and with it his reasoning powers. He was well supplied with food—of the average quality to be found on tramps—and was allowed to sit on deck.
Then one or two things began to strike him as being somewhat peculiar. Strauss evinced a decided tendency to prevent Villiers from strolling for'ard. On the face of it there could be no satisfactory reason why he should not do so; but Jack, always obliging, fell in with the supposed Swedish skipper's wish.
Then he made another discovery. One of the men left a newspaper wedged in the falls of one of the davits. A gust of wind displaced it and carried it across the deck almost to Villier's feet.
Jack's first impulse was to return it to its owner. A Swedish newspaper would be useless to anyone not possessing a knowledge of that language. But somewhat to his surprise he saw that it was English. His astonishment increased when he found that it was a Southampton paper and dated the Saturday on which he had been foully struck down.
Obviously, Villiers reflected, there was a flaw in Captain Strauss' carefully-pitched yarn. If the Zug had proceeded down-Channel without putting in anywhere and without holding communication with any other craft, how could that paper have found its way on board?
"I'm up against something here," thought Villiers, and proceeded with his investigations. He acted warily, for he was not sure of his ground.
In quite a casual way he refolded the paper and replaced it in the falls; then he made his way for'ard, carrying his chair, until he reached the engine-room's fidley.
Here he sat down and listened through the open gratings. Before long he overheard the engineer shout something to one of his assistants. The voice was plainly audible above the pulsations of the engines, and the words were unmistakably German; so was the reply.
"We're getting on," decided Villiers. "I wonder if this is the Zug. I have my doubts."
He glanced to and fro along the deck. On the fo'c'sle two men were engaged in coiling down a rope. Their backs were turned towards him. Those were the only members of the crew within sight. The helmsman was invisible from the spot where Villiers had taken up his position, owing to the height of the bridge and to the fact that the wheel-house was set well back from the canvas screen running round the bridge stanchion-rails.
Having satisfied himself on this point, Villiers peered through the open fidley into the engine-room. He saw what he expected, for right in the centre of the for'ard engine-room bulkhead was a brass plate setting forth the information that the steamship Geier had been engined in 1904 by the firm of Hopper and Heinz of Stettin.
That ought to have been conclusive, but Villiers did not rest there. After a while he made his way right aft and leant over the stumpy counter. There were the words "Zug—Malmo" written plain for anyone to read, but the letters were freshly painted, and there were signs that a longer word had been somewhat carelessly obliterated.
"Feeling better, Mr. Villiers?" asked Strauss, who happened to come on deck at that moment. "I wouldn't look down if I were you; it won't do your head any good."
Villiers, caught out, made no reply.
"Come and have tea in my cabin," continued the skipper of the Zug, as a preliminary to his ordered task of "pumping" his involuntary guest.
Jack acquiesced.
"What land is that?" he inquired casually, indicating a rugged range of hills about four miles on the port beam.
"Portuguese coast," replied Strauss. "Thinking of swimming there?"
"About a hundred yards is my limit," said Jack. "So I don't think I'll take it on."
Both men descended the companion and entered the cabin, which opened aft out of the saloon, for in her earlier days the s.s. Geier had passenger accommodation in addition to carrying cargo.
Siegfried Strauss waited until tea was served, and, ordering the steward to clear out, prepared to subject his guest to a carefully manipulated cross-examination.
But before he could get in his first question he was totally taken aback when Villiers looked him straight in the face and demanded bluntly.
"Isn't your name Kristian Borgen?"
It was wide of the mark, nevertheless Strauss knew now that Villiers had his suspicions.
"No, it is not," he replied. "I am ready to swear to that."
"What's in a name?" quoted Jack. "I suppose you are equally prepared to swear that you are not a German, and that this vessel isn't the Geier under an assumed name?"
Strauss was on the point of blustering when he bethought himself that it would be advisable to assume a conciliatory and non-committal attitude.
"You are quite under a misapprehension, my friend," he said smilingly. "I don't know why you have adopted this truculent attitude. I suppose you are still feeling the effect of your rough usage. To allay your unfounded suspicions I will show you the ship's papers."
The skipper got up from the table and went to a locker above one of the settees. This he opened and removed a packet of papers. As he did so Jack caught a glimpse of a yellow-leather case boldly stamped with the initials H. H.
It was the identical attaché-case that Sir Hugh Harborough lost from the car at Southampton. Even Villiers was taken aback by the discovery, but, controlling himself, he decided to ignore the facts for the present.
"H'm," he remarked, after he had examined the "Certificate of Registry" and other documents appertaining to the ownership and nationality of the s.s. Zug. "I'll swear those are forgeries. But we'll let that pass. How can you account for the fact that the name Geier is in the engine-room. Beastly careless of you, you know."
Villiers had certainly scored.
Although the change in the ship's name had been publicly advertised, Strauss had tried to conceal the fact from his unwilling guest. Now he had to admit it.
"And you left Southampton early on Sunday morning last," continued Villiers. "I know that, and you can deny it if you like—you did before, you remember—but that won't alter the fact. That's a Hun all over. You couldn't enter into a rivalry with Sir Hugh Harborough on this treasure-hunting stunt without descending to low-down tricks such as waylaying him and sand-bagging me. That's enough to land you in the dock, my festive."
Siegfried Strauss realized that the cat was out of the bag. Unmasked, he was no longer an amiable Swede but an unspeakable Hun.
With a sudden rush he bounded out of the cabin and up the companion-ladder. At the head he paused to reassure himself that Villiers was not in pursuit.
"You've done for yourself, you swine!" he shouted. "Since you have made yourself dangerous there is but one thing to be done—get rid of you."
Jack could hear him bawling for the hands to come aft. He was in a tight corner, but he had no intention of quietly giving in to a swarm of Huns.
Strauss had threatened "to do him in". No doubt he, Villiers, had asked for it when he tackled the fellow. Perhaps it would have been better to have pretended to humour him, and then Strauss might have set him ashore at Las Palmas. But it was too late now. There was no averting the crisis.
For a brief instant Villiers considered the possibility of gaining the bridge and holding it against all corners, but the futility of that plan at once became apparent. He was unarmed; the crew of the Zug were not. Every man carried a sheath-knife, and possibly several had firearms as well.
Acting upon an inspiration, although he hardly knew why, Villiers dragged the missing attaché-case from the locker and ran on deck.
Captain Strauss was still shouting to the crew. He hardly expected Jack would dare to come out of the cabin. When he saw him he attempted to close.
With a pleasurable feeling that he was getting his own back for the sand-bagging affair, Villiers saw the burly German measure his length on the deck as the result of a straight left with the Englishman's fist. For the present Siegfried Strauss ceased to count in the unequal contest.
Three or four of the crew ran on with a rush. Villiers didn't stop to meet them. He was cool enough to realize, in the first sense of elation, that there are limits to human powers. Running aft, he paused only to unship a life-belt and hurl it overboard, then, with the leather case still grasped in his right hand, he leapt over the rail into the sea.
He hit the water with tremendous force, for the Zug was steaming at a good twelve knots. That and his still weak condition almost deprived him of breath. He swallowed a good half-pint of salt water before he rose spluttering to the surface.
Even while he was still under the surface Villiers found himself debating upon the wisdom of his rash act.
"If I hadn't jumped into the ditch," he soliloquized, "those fellows would have slung me in, and perhaps given me another tap on the head just to make things doubly sure. I told friend Strauss that I was good for a hundred yards. So I am at racing-speed. It is now up to me to see if I can cover four or five miles, hampered by a leather bag and a life-buoy."
Why he hung on to the attaché-case he hardly knew. Whatever there was within it was evidently now no secret to the directing spirits behind the s.s. Zug. Even if Harborough's charts and plans were still inside the case, there was every reason to suppose that they had been duly inspected and the information they contained committed to memory. Sir Hugh knew the locality of the wreck, even without the aid of the stolen documents, so, now that the mischief was done, there could be little good served by regaining them.
The attaché-case was well made and the lid fitted closely; consequently it possessed a considerable amount of buoyancy. On coming to the surface Villiers found that he could support himself by the case without much effort, and thus give himself time to take stock of his surroundings.
Fifty yards away floated the life-buoy. Having assured himself of his position, the swimmer devoted his attention to the Zug. Already she was a good cable's length away, and holding on without apparently altering course. Five or six of the crew were standing right aft, and Villiers fancied that he caught the dull glint of the barrel of a rifle.
"They'll put about," he thought, "and either run me down or else put a bullet through my head if they spot me. I don't think they do, although I'm right in the glare of the sun. I'll keep clear of that buoy for a time, though."
Which was sound logic. The white-painted buoy, bobbing up and down over the crests of the waves, was a fairly-conspicuous object—as it was intended to be. But Jack, bareheaded and almost motionless, ran very little risk of being spotted by the crew of the rapidly-receding vessel.
But, contrary to his expectations, the Zug neither altered course nor did her crew open fire. She held on, leaving Villiers to his fate.
"Now for it," he muttered, and, turning on his back and still grasping the recovered attaché-case, he made toward the buoy.