THE FRIENDLY DEEP
Prince Von Hertzwohl looked up from his bureau. He was sitting in his stateroom, which was of some considerable size, and opened out of the saloon. His ears had caught the sound of a hasty entrance of the latter. His luminous eyes were alert and questioning. The man was completely changed from the simple inventor who had told the story of his submersible to Sir Andrew Farlow and his son. There was a restless, nervous tension about him, altogether at variance with his customary calm.
He leapt from his seat. His thin, bent figure moved almost electrically towards the door. The next moment he had entered the saloon. The other side of the room, and just within the entrance doorway, stood Ruxton Farlow, still clad in his German naval uniform, and still bearing in his arms the two brass cylinders. There was an urgent look in his eyes, and, at the sight of it, the Prince's question came sharply.
"What is it?" he demanded, with the imperiousness of a man accustomed to high command.
"Von Salzinger," replied Ruxton quickly. A laugh followed his pronouncement. It was the laugh of a man who is alive to the danger of a situation.
"Yes?" The Prince's further enquiry was surcharged with eagerness, and in broad contrast.
"He demands my presence. I have to conform to regulations and register my visit to Borga at—headquarters. He has sent an officer to conduct me to him—at once. The officer is awaiting me on the landing-stage. The situation has possibilities."
Ruxton's outward calm was not shared by his companion. The Prince displayed his realization of the necessities of the moment. His eyes were bright and concentrated. Ruxton watched the emaciated features with their crowning, upright white hair. There was an ominous sparkle beneath the bushy brows.
"I saw it in Von Salzinger's eyes when I sent him off," the Prince said at last. "That is why I left you. Had his order come in my presence, while ashore, it would have been awkward. That is also why I left you to bring those cylinders, and with instructions to bring them straight here. I knew you would make this vessel with me on board." He pressed an electric bell in the panelling.
A moment later a uniformed officer appeared. He stood awaiting the Prince's commands. The latter seemed absorbed in thought. Quite abruptly he broke the silence with a series of sharp orders.
"Send a man ashore at once, Captain Ludovic. There is an officer waiting there with certain orders from the Captain-General. Convey to him my compliments, and ask him to step aboard as I wish him to convey an important message to the military governor. For yourself, you will stand-by. The moment he enters the tower you will have the moorings cast off. Just keep the boat held to the quay fore and aft by light lines which can be released at a moment. When the officer reappears you will, the instant he has passed ashore, clear the gangway, cast off the light moorings, and full power ahead out of the harbor. I do not know the effect of my message on the military governor, but I expect he will endeavor to stop me. This must not be permitted. You understand?"
"Yes, Excellency." The man offered no further comment.
"For the present that is all."
The man saluted and retired.
"Is that man a German, or a——?" Ruxton began as the man disappeared.
"He is a Pole." Then the Prince clasped his fingers and bent them back, cracking the joints. It was an expression of intense excitement. He laughed. "He hates Prussians, and Von Salzinger is a Prussian."
"The matter is going to be serious?" Ruxton's eyes searched the smiling face of the Prince.
"I cannot tell—yet. Von Salzinger has given an order that is about to be disobeyed. Von Salzinger is a powerful force in Borga. Even I have no right to disobey the military governor's regulations here, nor to defy openly his orders. Von Salzinger may do anything. Remember, he is a Prussian. One thing is certain, he does not get you before his inquisitors. No, I cannot tell what he will do. Ah, here comes our visitor. Give me the cylinders."
The Prince possessed himself of the cylinders and was closely contemplating them when the youthful Prussian officer appeared in the doorway. He was so intent upon his study of them, tenderly handling their shining cases with his long fingers, that he did not appear to observe the officer's entrance, and, in gently modulated voice, continued to address his pretended nephew.
"You have, my dear Leder, committed the great fault which belongs to your age. Practice and Principle must ever go hand in hand. I do not know yet, of course, but I fear you have let Principle get his nose in front of Practice. It may mean much serious delay. We will take these, and have them more fully tested, and then——"
He broke off and looked up as an impatient clearing of the throat announced the presence of the officer. In a moment the cylinders were deposited on the table, and the big eyes were beaming simple kindliness upon the visitor.
"You have an order from the Captain-General, is it not so?" he enquired blandly.
The young Prussian pulled himself up with due regard for his office. Just for a moment his conceit had been a little overborne by the presence of the Prince.
"Yes, Excellency," he said, with a sharp return to his military habit. "It is an imperative order that I conduct, without delay, Herr Leder von Bersac——"
"Ach, so!" exclaimed the Prince, his eyes suddenly flashing and his whole manner absorbing all his recent blandness in a quick-rising heat. "Does the Captain-General think he can give his orders to men under the command of Prince von Hertzwohl? Your Captain-General has yet to learn. And those who serve under him also. My nephew, Herr Leder von Bersac, is under the command of his uncle, and no one else. Your Captain-General knows that as well as I. The regulations of Borga are no concern of mine. But when I visit this pestilential place its manners are. Convey to your Captain-General that the manners of Borga had best be improved. I shall not visit here again until I have seen that they are. You can go back, and tell him that I leave at once, and that Herr Leder von Bersac has no time to comply with any order issued by the military governor of Borga."
The tide of the Prince's anger was too swift for the youthful Prussian's armor of official effrontery. He came near to withering before it. It was only the understanding of Von Salzinger's supreme command in Borga that helped him to weather the storm. He waited one moment to see if anything further was to be said, then, under the stern eyes of the Prince, he saluted and departed, darting up the companionway with hurried steps, and made his way ashore to the telephone station on the landing-stage.
Had he paused to glance about him he might have been surprised that the Prince's threat had been so promptly put into execution. As it was he did not notice even that the gangway followed him ashore, almost immediately in his wake. But these things, however they might have surprised him, were no real concern of his. It was for him to report promptly to the Captain-General, and make matters as safe as he could for himself.
By the time he reached the telephone station the vessel was gliding silently from the landing-stage.
The throb of the powerful engines told Ruxton Farlow all he wished to know. He sighed quietly, and it was the outward expression of the relaxing of his feelings.
He was smiling into the face of the man before him.
"Well?" he said.
But the Prince had become curiously abstracted. His eyes were on the cylinders in an unseeing contemplation. Ruxton watched him thoughtfully after his monosyllabic interrogatory. He was filled with not a little wonder at the alertness of this man's mentality in a moment of crisis. It was an almost confounding realization in the midst of his early impressions of him. For himself he could not see ahead with any degree of certainty. The Prince had committed himself to a dangerous course in defying the German Government's representative in the place, which was the most treasured secret in the Teuton heart. He judged that certain pursuit would follow, or at least armed interference. Even with a power such as the Prince's, at whatever cost, Von Salzinger must enforce obedience to his order, or——
The Prince broke in upon his reflections.
"It is good to defy a—Prussian. It did me much good. But Borga is his nursery. He is its nurse. He must act. I wonder—— Ach, if he should try to stop us I will see him in the deepest pit of hell."
He threw up his hands with his final explosion and in an action of almost schoolboyish delight. Then he smiled into the Englishman's face, half questioningly, half eagerly.
"Between us and the open sea lie a hundred batteries of heavy, compressed-air guns. One shell from any of those guns could send us to the bottom, if it caught us at the surface. Then there is the mined channel. We are without a pilot. If we submerge the mines are thicker still. For myself and my vessel I do not care. For you?"
Ruxton shrugged.
"If I am caught and questioned I shall be shot. And you, too, for bringing me here. A gambler's chance is always attractive, even to a man who never gambles."
"Then we amuse ourselves at the expense of our friend Von Salzinger. When you are safe in England I will forestall him in Berlin. I have no fear when you are—safe. Let us go on deck."
Five minutes later they were standing on the deck of the submersible. They were standing at the rail, with the conning-tower intervening between them and the shore. They were the only souls visible on the deck. The captain of the vessel was in the turret, but the crew were all below.
Ruxton observed this at once, as he also observed that the skylights were all sealed ready for submersion.
"Your captain is ready for any emergency," he said, indicating these preparations.
But the Prince was searching the harbor side of the shore with a pair of powerful glasses.
Receiving no reply Ruxton permitted his attention to wander over the rapidly passing panorama. They were travelling very fast, and a great white wake was thrown up behind them. The moored shipping dropped astern of them at an almost incredible speed. Ahead he could see the frowning narrows coming towards them shrouded in their gloomy hood of mist, like the cowled skulls of skeleton sentinels. But even such a threat was preferable to the intolerable, sulphurous atmosphere they were leaving behind.
"There is no movement from the shore," said the Prince presently, lowering his glasses. Then he passed into the conning-tower to confer with his chief officer.
In a few moments he returned.
"He thinks it is the narrows where we shall be held up. He says the Captain-General would not believe a Pole would face that mine-field. Perhaps it is that he is right—Ludovic, I mean. We will wait." Then he rubbed his hands with absurd glee. "It is interesting."
Ruxton was forced to smile. A delightful sensation of excitement was growing within him again. He had told himself that it was life or death, but the full significance of his assurance had been powerless to possess him. He had often dreamed of Death. He had imagined it in almost every form. Nor, in his dreams, had it ever succeeded in terrifying him any more than the thought of it did now.
No, the whole situation had contrived an impersonal atmosphere for himself. He was looking on, watching a great contest between the brain of this man, his courage and soul, against the military rule and power of the Captain-General Von Salzinger.
A low chuckling laugh broke upon his reflections.
"It is an illustration," said the Prince, his eyes now steadily fixed upon the jaws of the narrows ahead.
"The test is even greater than I could have hoped. We are an unarmed submersible merchantman. Such as we have talked of. Here we are, under the enemy's batteries—at war. We are carrying butter, hey? Butter to your shores, in war time, in face of a blockade. Your countrymen are starving for—butter. We must reach them, and so save your country from destruction—with butter."
"Make it copper, Prince," smiled Ruxton.
"Ha! Yes, copper. It is very necessary in war time." The Prince smiled in appreciation. Then he pointed ahead. "But see, Ludovic is right."
He was indicating a dark object moving towards them on the water out of the gloomy shadows of the rocky sentries of the narrows.
"It is a patrol. Under normal conditions it would gladly pilot us through the mine-field. Now it has no such friendly desire."
His regard became less smiling, and he relapsed into silence. The dead flat water was thrown up into two great wings as the patrol boat pressed on towards them.
The excitement was more and more taking possession of the Englishman. His faith in the Polish prince was invincible.
"Shall you hear what he has to say?" he enquired presently, his breathing quickened in spite of an outward calm.
The Prince did not turn to answer, but his slight laugh was full of quiet confidence.
"Why waste time—valuable time?" he retorted whimsically. "We are in a hurry to reach the open sea. No, I do not listen to the Captain-General's commands to me. He is my subordinate." Then he added with the ingenuous subtlety of a schoolboy, "If I listened to the order to stop, and refused to obey, I should commit myself in the eyes of Berlin. No. Come below. It is time."
The patrol boat was less than four hundred yards away, and travelling at a great pace. It was almost within hailing distance. Ruxton could even count the occupants at that distance. He was certain there were six at least. The other patrol boat had contained only two officers besides the engineer. The difference was significant.
He followed his host into the conning-tower and the steel door was closed with a slam behind them. It automatically sealed itself.
The Prince's voice at the foot of the steel companion-ladder, leading up to the chief officer's post, rang out sharply.
"Submerge!"
Then he turned to his companion.
"We will go below. We will go forward, where Ludovic will join us in a moment. I will show you that which I hope may interest you. We have seen the last of Von Salzinger and his command—for some time."
The nervous energy of the Prince led Ruxton at a rapid rate. They passed down the companion, and, instead of entering the saloon, turned for'ard, down an alleyway which took them past the moving steel bowels of the vessel. The low purr of the great Diesel engines fell pleasantly upon the Englishman's ears. There was no hiss of steam. There was none of the clanging of high-pressure mechanism. Just a steady, powerful throb which vibrated throughout the length of the vessel's hull, and told him of the enormous mechanical effort going on.
They left the engine-rooms behind and passed by the kitchens, to which very careful and elaborate attention had been given. They left the quarters of the crew, beautifully kept and equipped, and without a sign or suggestion of that inferiority of appointment which is to be found on all commercial vessels. They passed a number of carefully disguised bulkheads, and finally came to a doorway in a steel bulkhead which seemed to mark the limit of the forward end of the vessel. The Prince withdrew a key from his waistcoat pocket. He opened the door, and both of them passed within.
Once the door was closed he slid his fingers up the steel wall in the darkness and pressed a switch. In a moment the room was flooded with light, and Ruxton blinked under its power as he gazed about him.
The Prince was standing in front of him gazing half smilingly at the expression of his face. He was seeking that surprise which to his simple nature meant much satisfaction.
Nor was he disappointed. The moment Ruxton recovered under the dazzling glare he realized that that which he now beheld he had witnessed in the vessel at Borga, whence he had brought the cylinders. This was the U-rays room of the private submersible. It was—yes, it was the U-rays in active operation.
A question promptly sprang to his lips.
"But the light is perfect," he said. "There is nothing wrong with it here?"
He moved across the narrow triangular room to its apex, where a great disc of magnifying glass, like a porthole, came in direct contact with the water outside. He stood for a moment peering out through it. The water beyond was lit with a ruddy glow that left it extraordinarily translucent. It was powerful, and seemingly the power of the rays extended a considerable distance. But though the water was thus lit it was not rendered transparent. For some silent moments he gazed out, then a shadow moved across the field of light—and he understood.
He turned to the silent inventor.
"That was a fish which crossed our bows," he said, in suppressed tones which indicated something of his feelings. "I think—yes, I understand. This light will reveal any solid body ahead, any obstruction—mines, rocks, any danger to progress."
The Prince beamed his satisfaction.
"The submersible need no longer be a blind lumbering monster," he said. "The mine-field we are shortly going to pass through is not the danger you may have anticipated. The moment we have passed the patrol boat we shall rise till our periscope is above water. Then we shall move slowly. The helmsman will remain in the conning-tower, but he will be controlled from here by—— Ah, here is Captain Ludovic."
The steel door was thrust open and the chief officer entered the room.
"The mines begin about sixty fathoms on, Excellency," he said, with a brevity and utter lack of anything approaching the servility one might have anticipated in his relation to so powerful a master as the Prince. But Ruxton understood. The Prince's simple nature demanded nothing of that from those intimately associated with him. Hence, perhaps, the devotion of those who served him. "If you will forgive, Excellency, I will take _sole_ charge here."
The Prince turned to his guest with a laugh of genial humor.
"Come, my friend, we will leave the excellent Ludovic to his work. We are dismissed." Then he turned to the captain, who had taken his place at the forward porthole, and had adjusted the telephone receivers over his ears. He raised his voice so that the man could hear. "Once clear of the last batteries, Ludovic, we travel on the surface," he said.
"Yes, Excellency." The man made no attempt to turn from his watch upon the ruddy field ahead.