CHAPTER XXIII
Eureka!
"That young brother of yours has his head screwed on the right way, Beverley," observed Harborough in his blunt way, when he heard of the conversation that led to the nocturnal discovery of the treasure-ship. "Jolly good thing we brought him along. We might have been groping for the wreck for weeks."
"I suppose it is the Fusi Yama," said Bobby.
"Of course," declared Harborough emphatically. "The boat we fished up proves that." He glanced at his watch. "In another hour and a half we'll put a half-Nelson on the last remaining doubts."
It was just before the breakfast-hour on the morning following the eventful night. The crew of the Titania, in spite of a somewhat boisterous demonstration that lasted till the small hours of the morning, were up and ready to resume operations.
For the preliminary diving-work it was arranged that a descent should be made from one of the boats as before; then, the shoal water surrounding the wreck having been surveyed, a guide-rope could be paid out between the Fusi Yama and the beach, in accordance with Claverhouse's suggestion.
At seven and a half fathoms Swaine found himself on the poop of the submerged vessel. There was enough natural light at that depth to enable him to dispense with his electric lamp. Objects on her deck, which was fairly well preserved in spite of a lapse of five years, were readily discernable, but over the sides of the ship the water, thick with sand and mud, was as black as ink.
He made his way for'ard with the utmost caution, lest a rotten patch in the deck should let him down into the cavernous depths below. Everything of a portable nature had vanished from the deck, even the bridge and charthouse, badly damaged by shell-fire from the German cruiser, had gone, save for a few twisted steel girders. The jagged stumps of the masts and the base of the funnel remained, while held in a grotesque inverted position from the davits were three boats similar to the one that the grapnel had brought to the surface. The hatches of the two cargo-holds had been removed, but whether by the prize-crew or by the action of the water Swaine could not determine. As he placed one leaden-shod foot upon the steel coaming and peered into the opaque depths of one of the holds, Swaine felt himself wondering what secrets that abyss held, and whether he would be successful in his efforts to prise the treasure from the keeping of the sea.
Although he had carefully studied the plans of the scuttled ship, and knew the details of her internal arrangements by heart, Swaine made no attempt to go below. For the present his object was to examine and report upon the position and condition of the vessel, and the best means of getting at the valuable contents of the strong-room which, according to the plans, was on the main deck just abaft the after bulkhead of the engine-room.
As he neared the fore part of the ship Swaine felt his progress sensibly retarded. A part of the current that he knew from previous experience set past the two wrecks had been diverted and was sweeping diagonally across the fo'c'sle of the Fusi Yama, with a velocity of from one to two miles an hour. Right aft the current was hardly perceptible as far as the deck was concerned, but over the side the steady ripple of running water, although inaudible, was apparent by the drifting pieces of weed and kelp.
Leaving one end of a rope made fast to a bollard, Swaine came to the surface and made his report. One of the boats then pulled to the beach, paying out the line as it went. By eleven o'clock in the morning a "distance-rope" was in position between the Fusi Yama and the shore.
In the afternoon Swaine paid another visit to the wreck, this time entering the water from the beach and following the tautened rope. For half the distance his progress was fairly rapid, judging from the diver's point of view, but towards the latter end of his submarine walk he experienced considerable difficulty from the cross-current, having, in fact, to hold on tightly to prevent himself being swept away.
Close alongside the wreck, which he noticed had already sunk to her bilge-keels in the sand and mud, the current was hardly apparent, being deflected by the flare of the vessel's bows.
Examination by the aid of the portable electric lamp revealed no signs of the hull having been damaged by internal explosion. Evidently the Huns effected the scuttling by opening the sea-cocks.
Clambering on board—a fairly-easy task owing to the buoyancy of the diving-dress, which, notwithstanding leaden weights, was only a few pounds heavier than the water it displaced—Swaine made his way down the main companion-ladder.
'Tween decks a weird sight presented itself. Within the limits of the rays of the lamp he could see wooden articles of various descriptions pinned up against the ceilings. Other objects, heavier than water, lay about the deck, all covered with a slimy marine growth.
Progressing, he made his way to the strong-room. The massive door was partly open. There were indications that the complicated locks had been blown open by powerful explosives, but a temporary fastening, consisting of a steel bar secured by a large brass padlock, prevented the diver from ascertaining the nature of the contents of the room.
He returned to the shore by the same way, to find his comrades anxiously awaiting him.
"I've found the strong-room," were his first words.
"Empty?" inquired half a dozen voices eagerly.
"Couldn't say," replied Swaine. "I think not, otherwise the Huns wouldn't have troubled to padlock it."
"Let's hope you're right," said Harborough. "They went off in a hurry, I understand, and the gold was stated to have been left on board."
"At any rate, sir, they had time to open the sea-cocks, and not blow her bilges out," continued Swaine.
"Teutonic thoroughness," explained the baronet; "they were in a hurry, with Australian and Jap. cruisers at their heels, but there was time to scuttle her methodically. They evidently hoped to raise her after the war."
"Pity we couldn't," observed Villiers. "It would save a lot of trouble in the long run."
"Unfortunately, that is an experienced Salvage Company's work," rejoined Harborough. "It would mean either filling her with air-cylinders or else building a coffer-dam round her and pumping the water out. We know our capabilities, and we won't begin cutting into other fellow's jobs, so we'll just carry on."
During the next day an electric submarine-lamp was lowered into the hull of the wreck, the current being supplied by a dynamo worked off the shaft of the motor-launch; while electrically-operated drills were sent below ready to commence the task of opening the door of the strong-room.
The work continued in almost perfect weather, the extreme heat of the day being tempered by a soft breeze. Lassitude, one of the drawbacks of the tropics, was unknown, so bracing were the sea-breezes. Even after a day's toil the men felt so full of energy that they indulged in games of cricket, making rough and ready bats from pieces of plank, and balls fashioned of rope-yarn and junk bound with seaming-twine.
"Think I'm up to scratch now, old thing?" inquired Villiers, after half an hour's diving-practice.
"Not much doubt about it," replied Swaine. "You've put in five hours altogether. You can have a shot at the wreck to-morrow."
Jack Villiers had indeed made good progress as a diver. Constitutionally fitted, and possessing a steady nerve, he soon mastered the relatively-simple "gadgets" that made the self-contained diving-dress admittedly superior to that of the older type, in which the diver is hampered by life-line and air-tube. In a case of emergency the diver could blow himself to the surface by liberating a quantity of compressed air from a strong metal cylinder strapped immediately beneath the air-reservoir. The compressed air would then distend the outer fabric of the diving-suit without interfering with the wearer's breathing, with the result that the man would rise to the surface, his leaden sinkers notwithstanding.
Accordingly, upon the next descent to the wreck Swaine did not go alone. Close on his heels followed Villiers, keeping a firm hold on the rope that led from the shore to the hull of the Fusi Yama.
With little difficulty the two divers found themselves outside the strong-room door. The space between decks, lighted by the electric submarine-lamp, was shorn of most of its uncanniness by the powerful rays, but a number of fish, attracted by the glare, were swimming to and fro, sometimes butting blindly against the glass fronts of the men's helmets.
Villiers was thankful that none of the fish was of a dangerous variety. They looked hideous enough, magnified by the water. There were some with formidable-looking spines, others resembling skate with ferocious, underhung jaws, some that looked like conger-eels, and one with a razor-backed body, who persisted in rubbing against Villier's bare hands until Jack drew a knife and settled it with the awkward customer. But, he was thankful to observe, sharks, sword-fish, and cuttle-fish were not in evidence.
Both men set to work first to clear away the imprisoned and floating debris. Broken deck-chairs, life-belts with rotten canvas coverings, wooden buckets, and other articles that still retained their buoyancy were dragged to the companion-hatchway and liberated. This done, the doors were drawn together and lashed, leaving room for the electric-light cable leads to pass through the aperture. By so doing the divers had rendered themselves secure from roaming tigers of the deep.
The steel bar on the door of the strong-room was a formidable affair. Even by the aid of the electric drills, the metal was only cut through to the depth of an inch when Swaine gave the signal to knock off and return to the beach.
One hour and twenty minutes had elapsed, and another forty minutes represented the total period during which a man could remain submerged before his air-supply became impure.
"Slow progress," reported Swaine, on their return. "With luck we ought to cut through that jolly old bar in a couple of hours. How did you like the job, Jack?"
"Not so dusty," replied Villiers guardedly.
"That is an obvious statement," rejoined his fellow-worker. "We certainly weren't working in a dust-laden atmosphere. By Jove, I am hungry! What's going, Pete?"
"Taro and pork-pie, sah," replied the cook, whereupon all the others laughed, for that sort of pie had become part of the daily routine.
"Keen on carrying on, Jack?" inquired Swaine, when, having partaken of a substantial meal, all hands were resting and enjoying a smoke.
"Rather," replied Villiers emphatically. "I'm anxious to see the other side of that strong-room door."
"Come on, then," continued Swaine, knocking out his pipe on the heel of his boot. "Now, then, fall in, the divers' attendants. There's no need to stand there hanging on to the slack. Slap it about."
With increased confidence Villiers plunged into the water, following his chum. At a pre-arranged signal the electric submarine-lamp was switched on and the companion-doors closed.
Alternately holding the electric drill, the two divers resumed their attack upon the steel bar, until Swaine gave the signal to desist. Then pointing to a heavy sledge hammer, he motioned to Villiers to give the coup de grâce.
It looked a simple task to break the almost severed bar. The hammer, weighing fourteen pounds in air, seemed ridiculously light, but when Villiers tried to swing it, the result surprised him. He had not calculated the resistance of the water.
At the third attempt Jack laid the hammer down in disgust, then picking up a crow-bar he applied the wedge-shaped end to the bar and bore down with all his weight, planting one leaden-soled boot against the door to give greater leverage.
The steel bar gave. Villiers found himself deposited gently on his back. Agreeably surprised that he hadn't fallen violently, he realized that the resistance of the water that had rendered the hammer-blows almost useless had also let him down softly.
It took him some moments to regain a vertical position. He could see his companion grinning at him through the plate-glass front of his helmet. Then almost the next instant he became aware that he could not keep contact with the floor but was rising through the water. Inadvertently, in his struggles he had opened the release-valve to the compressed-air reservoir, and but for the intervening roof he would have been well on his way to the surface.
It had taken place so quickly that Swaine had no chance to come to the luckless diver's assistance, while most of the compressed air had found its way into Villier's diving-dress. By the time Swaine succeeded in closing the valve Jack was pinned pretty firmly against the ceiling.
Vainly he strove, by pushing against the roof, to force himself down. A mild panic seized him. He struggled so violently that he rasped the skin from the knuckles of his bare hands.
Raising one arm and securing a grip on Villier's gorget, Swaine pulled himself up until the metal of his helmet was in contact with that of his companion's. By this means he could shout and be understood.
"Don't struggle," urged Swaine. "I'll get you out if you don't. Quite simple."
Making his way to the companion-ladder, Swaine opened the double doors, then, by dint of an acrobatic feat that would have been impossible to perform in air, he dragged the buoyant, distended form of his companion to the opening.
Given a final push to speed him on his way, Villiers shot like an arrow to the surface. The sudden change of pressure wellnigh deprived him of his senses, but he was just conscious of floating face uppermost on the surface within a few feet of the motor-boat that supplied the electric current to the interior of the wreck.
Great was Beverley's consternation when he saw one of the divers blown to the surface. Bobby had been having an easy task of standing by attending at intervals to the motor, when the inflated diving-dress, and its unrecognizable occupant, suddenly emerged alongside.
By the aid of a boat-hook Villiers was brought within hand's reach, but the task of getting him on board had yet to be tackled.
Assisted by O'Loghlin, Griffiths, and Bell, Beverley passed a couple of ropes round the distended diving-dress and carefully, yet unceremoniously, parbuckled Jack into safety, although the boat dipped until her waterways were awash.
"All right, Villiers, old thing?" inquired Beverley anxiously, when the first of the glass plates of the helmet was unscrewed.
"Yes—I think so," replied Jack in a voice he hardly recognized as his own. "I'll explain later."
"And Swaine?"
"Quite O.K.," declared Villiers emphatically.
Willing hands divested him of his cumbersome diving-dress, and, a boat having put off from the shore, Jack was transhipped and taken to the camp.
"Nothing to worry about," reported Beverley, in answer to eager inquiries. "Let him alone, and don't worry him with questions. Hallo! here's Swaine." Swaine, having come ashore by the usual way of following the rope, had arrived in shoal water unwelcomed by anyone. Finding that there was no one to assist him, he trudged above high-water mark and sat down, looking a hideously-grotesque figure.
Harborough and two or three others hurried to him.
"Villiers all right?" were his first words.
"Yes," replied Sir Hugh. "What happened?"
"Happened?" repeated Swaine, with a chuckle. "He wrenched open the door, and the result so astonished him that he went up, leaving me to find the gold. It's there, right enough."