CHAPTER XXIX
A Frustrated Escape
Having made this satisfying discovery, Villiers returned to the surface and reported the good news.
There was, however, much work to be done before the rest of the gold could be removed. The wreck of the Fusi Yama had to be buoyed once more, for, amongst other damage, the former mark-buoys had been destroyed by the explosion. Another guide-rope had to be established between the wreck and the shore, while, owing to the loss of the electric submarine lamp and the generating plant, the remainder of the work under water had to be carried out by the relatively feeble light afforded by the divers' electric lamps.
By the time these various preliminary tasks were completed Swaine had recovered from the effects of his perilous adventure. Siegfried Strauss, too, was out of danger and gave but little trouble. His arm was healing slowly, and he seemed grateful to his rivals for their kind and generous treatment.
Swaine bore him no ill will on account of the submarine fight. He willingly accepted Strauss' explanation that he thought Swaine was about to attack him and that he was obliged to take action. Strauss was the loser, and had paid the price for it. The matter was over and done with: that was Swaine's summing up of the case.
On the other hand, every member of the Titania's crew felt that they had an account to settle with Kaspar von Giespert. The fellow hadn't played the game from the very beginning, and his treachery in dispatching a boat's crew to blow up the wreck, and, as he hoped, most of the members of Harborough's party as well, put him beyond the bounds of decency.
Strauss freely admitted that his employer had acted treacherously, and that von Giespert was filled with a mad rage for revenge at being baulked of his chance of getting the treasure. He also volunteered the information that von Giespert intended to take the Zug back to European waters directly the boat's crew returned. And, since they weren't in a position to return, it was safe to assume that von Giespert would not risk searching for them, but, after giving up all hope of their safety, would carry out his original programme of leaving Ni Telang and making for home.
The two Germans captured by Dick Beverley did not take kindly to their detention. Not from any sense of devotion to von Giespert did they attempt to escape, but because they were under the erroneous impression that their employer was on the right track after all and was about to gain possession of the gold. They had heard von Giespert say that he meant to sink the Titania and gain possession of the booty by force of arms, and, since they did not like the prospect of being under lock and key on the yacht when she was attacked, they took steps to regain their freedom.
It was a bright moonlight night when they put their crudely-formed plan into execution. Although Griffiths was on guard outside the door of their cabin-cell, he heard no suspicious noises. Working desperately and silently, the Huns removed a portion of the inch match-boarding that separated their cabin from the one adjoining, which happened to be three cabins knocked into one and utilized as a store for hydroplanes. Since the two Cormorants were no longer in existence, the fairly-expansive compartment was empty save for a few tools, coils of rope, and kegs of paint and varnish.
One of the doors leading to the alley-way was unlocked—unlocked doors being the rule rather than the exception on board.
They waited until they heard the sentry go for'ard, for Griffiths was pacing up and down the whole length of the alley-way, then they silently crept to the accommodation-ladder and gained the deck.
Merridew and Fontayne, the watch on deck, were at that moment pacing the port side, conversing in low tones in order not to disturb their sleeping mess-mates. Knowing that Griffiths was on duty below, they never troubled about the prisoners—it was not their "pigeon". Their particular duty was to see that the Zug didn't pay a nocturnal visit with sinister intent to the lagoon at Nua Leha.
In the midst of Fontayne's elaborate description of his "castle in the air", Merridew laid one hand firmly upon his companion's shoulder.
"Go on talking—anything," he whispered. "These two Fritzes are trying to do a bunk. Let 'em have a run for their money; we'll see some fun."
Merridew and his companion waited until they saw the dark shadows of the Germans flat along the deck; then, each taking up a rifle, the watchers followed, keeping under cover afforded by the chart-house.
Right aft crept the two Germans until they halted and peered over the taffrail as if measuring the distance between them and the shore. Then, with a few coils of main-sheet, they took a turn round a belaying-pin and silently lowered the free end of the stout manilla rope into the water.
Slowly one of the Huns wriggled on his stomach upon the slightly-rounded top of the taffrail, then, grasping the rope, he began to make his way down hand over hand, his companion watching his progress.
Merridew distinctly heard a splash in the water. It was not the noise of a man swimming.
"Sharks!" he whispered, and opened the cut-off to the magazine of his rifle.
The German dangling at the rope's end heard it too, for he uttered a guttural "Achtung!"
The other fell, just below the rail, tried to regain the deck, but the task of swinging himself round and over the projecting taffrail was beyond his powers. As he hung desperately to the rope he prevented his companion's efforts to climb back. Both started to shout for help.
Bawling for the rest of the duty watch to turn out, Merridew and Fontayne ran aft. A strange sight met their eyes as they leapt over the taffrail.
The Germans, gripping the rope with the tenacity of terror, were swaying to and fro in their efforts to put as great a distance as possible between them and the swirling water, while clearly visible in the bright moonlight—as they darted in and out of the dark shadows cast by the Titania's projecting counter—were two enormous sharks, their white bellies glistening in the silvery light as they turned to snap at the tempting bait just above their reach.
Levelling his rifle, Merridew waited his opportunity. It was not long in coming. One of the sharks was on the point of turning over on its back to attempt a ferocious snap with its tremendous jaws when the rifle cracked. At close range the nickel bullet inflicted a large and mortal wound, and the monster, still writhing, sank out of sight.
Fontayne hit the other, but whether the shot was fatal or not remained an unsettled question to all concerned except the shark. But the main point was that it swam off as hard as it could go.
Meanwhile the rest of the duty-watch had come on deck. Curiosity prompted them to have a glimpse of the two thoroughly-scared Huns, then they proceeded to lower and man the gig—the only available boat.
"There's no hurry," remarked Beverley. "Let 'em feel the breeze a bit longer. It will teach them a lesson."
The sharks having been eliminated from the proposition, all danger to life was at an end. But before the boat came under the Titania's counter the uppermost Hun released his hold. In his fall he tore his companion's grasp from the rope, and the twain hit the water with tremendous force.
Winded and spluttering they rose to the surface, frantically grabbing at each other until they were unceremoniously hauled into the stern-sheets of the gig.
Next morning Harborough had the two Germans brought before him. The men were thoroughly cowed, for that narrow escape from being seized and devoured by sharks had knocked all the stuffing out of them.
Their punishment was solitary confinement, and they were also ordered to make good the damage done to the woodwork of the cabin.
"Strange," remarked the baronet, when the culprits had been removed. "Up to the present we haven't seen a shark in the lagoon but that it has done us a good turn. Now, then, fall in all hands. Another couple of days' work will see the job finished, and then, yo ho, for Old England!"