"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 theFusi 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 theTitania, 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 theFusi Yamaand 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 theFusi 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 theFusi Yamaand 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 theFusi 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 thecoup 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."
"Hanged if I like the look of things," commented Beverley. "The glass has fallen six-tenths in the last two hours, and the sunset looks like a blurr of pea-soup. We're in for something before morning."
It was the evening of Villier's unpleasant experience and the discovery of theFusi Yamagold. Work on the wreck had been suspended for the rest of the day, although Jack pluckily volunteered to make another descent with Swaine, and to begin the actual salvage of the treasure. This proposal Harborough had negatived. He believed in moderation.
"No use putting in one and a half working days in one if it takes two days to get over it," he remarked. "I don't believe in making spurts until I'm on the last lap."
Merridew, who was officer of the watch on shore, agreed with Beverley's observations about the sunset.
"I think we'll have the tents struck," he added. "We can sleep in the store-house. That ought to stick it out. How will your buses get on, Alec?"
"Badly, if we don't do something," replied Claverhouse. "Come along, Trevear, old son; we've a job in front of-us before we go to roost."
"I'll bear a hand," volunteered Bell, and Griffiths, who was rarely separated from his particular chum, also offered his assistance.
Directly the four had gone to prepare the sea-planes for the expected blow, Merridew levelled his telescope on theTitania.
"The Old Man knows his job," he remarked to Beverley. "They're furling awnings and veering out additional cable. But I'm hanged if I like the look of things."
Just as the sun sank, leaving behind it an ill-defined blurr of indigo-coloured clouds tinged with vivid copper-coloured streaks, the rain began to fall heavily. Not a breath of wind stirred the broad-leaved branches of the palm trees, although the big drops thudded upon the foliage with a noise like the roll of a hundred drums. In less than thirty seconds theTitaniawas lost to sight in the terrific downpour that obliterated everything beyond a distance of fifty yards from the spot where Beverley stood.
Clad in oilskins and sou'wester, Bobby revelled in the warm rain. He waited until the short twilight had passed into intense darkness, then he rejoined the others in the hut.
"What, not turning in to-night, you fellows?" he inquired. "Perhaps it's as well. Wonder how the oldTitaniawill stand it?"
"Wonder how the old hut'll stick it, you mean," said Fontayne. "A sand-bagged dug-out on the side of the hill would be more the mark, I fancy. By Jove, I don't envy Claverhouse and his breakdown gang."
"Any sign of a leak?" asked Bobby, casting anxious glances at the palm-leaf thatch, on the outside of which the rain was falling down with a noise like that made by a number of peas when violently shaken in a tin can.
"All right, so far," replied Fontayne, "but it looks as if the floor will be flooded. Pity we hadn't dug a trench round outside."
"The ground slopes a bit," observed Swaine, "so the water won't lodge. Hallo! I'm not so sure about it. Look here!"
A steady rivulet was finding its way in at the landward side of the hut. All hands hurriedly set to work to dig a runway to divert and keep under control what promised to be a healthy little mountain torrent.
In the midst of this operation Alec and his three companions arrived, drenched to the skin but nevertheless cheerful.
"Don't care if it rains ink," observed Claverhouse blithely. "We've secured the buses and removed the wings. Hope it doesn't blow too hard."
Even as he spoke there came a weird moaning noise from without, followed by a blow that shook the hut to its foundations. It was the preliminary announcement of a tropical hurricane. For full five minutes it lasted, creating a pandemonium of noises as the supple trees bent and groaned under the furious blasts.
image: 06_ceiling.jpg
image: 06_ceiling.jpg
[Illustration: JACK WAS PINNED PRETTY FIRMLY AGAINST THE CEILING]
[Illustration: JACK WAS PINNED PRETTY FIRMLY AGAINST THE CEILING]
"Lucky the trees keep off most of the wind," said Bobby, raising his voice to make himself heard above the din. "Suppose we shift some of those heavy cases and pile 'em against the windward side."
All hands, with the exception of the recently-arrived working-party, who were in various stages of deshabille, set to work with a will, until a fairly-solid barricade was constructed on either side of the door up to the level with the eaves.
As suddenly as it had started the wind dropped to a flat calm. The rain, too, was lighter.
"Guess it's all over," remarked Griffiths. "It will be starlight outside."
"No such luck," replied Bobby. "That's only a preliminary canter. While we're about it we may as well rig up a couple of preventer-shrouds to that hurricane-lamp. I didn't like the way it swayed about just now."
The second phase of the storm burst. This time the wind roared. There was no sinister whine in the furious rush of air, but there was no mistaking the strength of the blast. A palm tree, uprooted, came crashing to earth, its leafed crest brushing against the side of the hut before it came to rest a good fifty feet away. Again and again the side of the hut bulged ominously, while eddying gusts found their way into the building, as if seeking a weak spot in the flimsy but stoutly-woven material.
The men stood silently alert. The noise of the elements crushed all desire to talk. Momentarily they expected to see the hut torn from its foundations and flung, like a discarded toy from the hand of a fractious child, into the storm-swept night.
This outburst lasted a good ten minutes. Then followed a period of calm unaccompanied by rain. The eerie silence that succeeded the deafening roar was almost as awe-inspiring as the hurricane.
"How's the old ship sticking it?" remarked Merridew. "I'll go out and have a look round."
He could see nothing save a line of white as the rollers, forced over the reef by the gale, lashed the beach.
Beyond all was in darkness. Whether theTitania'sanchors held or whether she had been driven ashore there was no means of telling.
A long-drawn shrill whine warned him that it was high time to beat a retreat. He was not a moment too soon. He regained the hut, but it took the united efforts of four men to close and secure the door.
No one spoke a word, but everyone realized that the third outburst would be the worst, and perhaps the last. It came, accompanied by vivid flashes of lightning and ear-splitting peals of thunder that even made the heavy cases reverberate. Mingled with the loud roar of the wind was that shrill, almost unearthly whine that means mischief.
Suddenly the interior of the hut was brightly illuminated by a flash of lightning. The roof, lifted by a particularly vicious squall, had vanished, leaving a trail of violently eddying leaves and bamboo rafters. Then, while the men were still blinded by the dazzling glare, the wind backed a full four points, struck the roofless hut on its weakest side, and the next moment the building was levelled.
Buried beneath a mat-like mass of thatch, Beverley found himself prostrate on the flooded ground. Someone's rubber-shod foot was beating a tattoo on his face as its wearer endeavoured to extricate himself from an unenviable position.
As Bobby was regaining his feet another brilliant flash gave him a brief but vivid glimpse of his immediate surroundings. His comrades were struggling through the debris, looking much like a litter of healthy puppies forcing their way through a covering of hay. The barricade of boxes had been overthrown, some of the cases lodging against the trunks of the palm trees, nearly fifty feet away.
Many of the trees were bending until the tops nearly touched the ground; others, uprooted, were hurled like straws against those still standing, and formed a gigantic lattice-work. A dozen yards away the kerosene-lamp, with its glass completely shattered, lay blazing fiercely, the heavy downpour of rain tending to spread the flames.
Guided by the blaze, Beverley made his way to the blazing pool of oil. Close by he saw a large box with cryptic markings in red paint. It contained a couple of hundred pounds of high explosives—safe to handle since the stuff had to be detonated by means of a primer, but not proof against the attack of fire. Already the flames were licking the box, and only the fact that the woodwork was damp owing to the torrential rain had prevented a disastrous explosion.
Acting almost mechanically, yet conscious to a certain degree of the risk he ran, Beverley literally ploughed his way through the chaos of bamboo and thatch and seized the rope-handle of the explosive-case. Desperation lent him the strength of a giant. With a mighty heave he shifted the heavy case a full yard to windward of the burning oil; then, walking backwards with his body inclined at an acute angle to the slope of the ground, he dragged the deadly explosive well out of harm's way.
Only when he desisted did he notice that the legs of his oilskin trousers were charred and smouldering still.
Aided by the frequent flashes of lightning and the now dying glare of the kerosene, the rest of the late occupants of the store-house extricated themselves and each other from their awkward and dangerous predicament, and in the blinding rain they made for the shelter of the palm groves, never halting till they had placed a full hundred yards between them and the outpost of trees that held out against the hurricane.
Even now the position of the shore-party was far from enviable. Every man was soaked to the skin; most bore cuts or bruises, while Bell and Merridew were both badly knocked about by one of the packing-cases as the barricade gave way before the blast.
"Think theTitaniastood it?" asked Merridew.
There was no reply. Every man had his doubts. Bobby was regretting the fact that he had refused to let Dick come ashore the previous afternoon.
For another hour the men sheltered in the palm grove. Here it was comparatively calm, although the trunks were trembling with the effect of the gale upon their verdant tops. To attempt to leave their place of refuge and go down to the beach meant striving to attain the impossible. No one could face the full force of the blast in the open.
At half-past two in the morning the wind died away as suddenly as it had started; the stars shone in an unclouded sky, and only the debris scattered in the glades and the unusually loud roar of the surf remained.
"It's all over," declared Beverley. "Let's make for the beach."
They arrived to find that the breakers were already being subdued by the reef, on which the mountainous rollers were hurling themselves in sullen fury. Pitching heavily as she rode with open hawse to the waves was theTitania, standing out clearly against the starlit sky.
"I don't think she's dragged a yard," declared Bobby. "Jolly lucky——"
"What's that?" interrupted Griffiths, pointing to something rolling in the undertow of the surface at a distance of a hundred yards from the beach.
The men rushed to the spot to find that theTitania'scutter had been torn from the davits and had been dashed ashore.
Watching his opportunity, Claverhouse waded waist-deep into the water and secured the painter. All hands succeeded in hauling the boat beyond the rush of the waves, but the mischief was already done. Her keel, kelson, and garboards smashed, the boat was beyond repair.
"I'm off to have a look at the sea-planes," decided Alec. "Nothing like keeping on the move when you're soaked to the buff. Come along, Trevear, old son."
The airmen departed. The others, unable to communicate with the ship, thought that activity was the best antidote to saturated clothing, and proceeded to set things in order.
It was a big task. Their first objects of attention were the three boats that were kept ashore at night. Fortunately they had been hauled up well above high-water mark and secured by their painters to some stout trees, while a line and grapnel had been laid out from the stern of each. Even then it had been touch and go. Only the heavy downpour preceding the hurricane had prevented the boats from being hurled away, the weight of the water in the bilges being barely sufficient to counterbalance the lifting-force of the wind.
They found the three boats nearly filled to the thwarts with water, sand, and lumps of coral.
Having pulled out the plugs and allowed the water to drain from the boats, the men proceeded to the site of the store-house, and set to work to collect the scattered cases.
"Look!" exclaimed Swaine, pointing to the box of explosives. "We've had a narrow squeak, lads. The wood's charred."
"So it is," agreed Merridew. "How? It's yards from the blaze caused by the lamp. Lightning, perhaps. Don't you think so, Beverley?"
"P'r'aps," replied Bobby. "Anyone got any dry tobacco? Mine's a wash-out."
Daybreak found the members of the expedition tired, hungry, and undaunted. The gale had wrought havoc with their resources. In less than a minute the work of days had been scattered to the winds, and until the remains could be collected and examined not even a rough idea of the state of their provisions and equipment could be obtained.
Long before the waters of the lagoon returned to their usual state of tranquillity, Harborough, Villiers, and Dick Beverley came ashore. They, too, bore traces of the night's ordeal, for every man on board had momentarily expected theTitaniato part her cables and come up on the beach.
"It might have been worse," remarked Harborough philosophically, as he surveyed the devastated site of the store-house. "We've had a very sticky time. The motor-boat's gone—torn clean away from her chocks."
"And the cutter," added Beverley. "The remains are lying just beyond that ledge."
"How did the sea-planes get on?" inquired Villiers.
"Can't say," replied Bobby. "Alec and young Trevear have gone off to see what's happened."
"There's one thing," remarked Harborough. "We have no further use for them, and it's merely a question of financial loss. We've to be thankful that we came out with comparatively whole skins. Wonder how the other fellows fared?"
"What other fellows?" inquired Villiers.
"Our friends the Huns," explained the baronet. "TheZug, with her high freeboard and being fairly light in ballast, must have felt it even more than theTitania. Directly we get things a bit ship-shape I'll run across and see if they are all right. Hanged if I like the idea of their being cut off on Ni Telang, even though they didn't act all above board. Well, how about some breakfast, Pete?"
Harborough was not a man to question the workings of Providence, and to moan and grouse because Nature had done her best to wreck his plans. Adversity only spurred him to greater efforts. Like a punching-ball, he rebounded promptly from the effects of what would have been to the toughest prize-fighter a knock-out blow.
Pete, too, rose to the occasion. Although the kitchen had shared the fate of the store-house, and the remains of the provisions took some finding, the hungry men were presently sitting down to a hot and appetising repast in which, greatly to Villiers' relief, cold pork did not figure. But there was a new item on the menu: turtle steak. Pete, wandering along the shore while the others were salving the remains of the cutter, had discovered a fine specimen of a turtle, capsized and lying far above high-water mark.
Breakfast had only just started when Claverhouse and his party returned.
"One's gone, sir," he reported, in answer to Harborough's inquiry concerning the sea-planes. "Turned completely over, and the motor's crashed through the fuselage. The other is all right. On our way back we found the motor-boat perched on top of a patch of undergrowth."
"Damaged?"
"Not as far as I could make out," replied Alec. "She is lying with her bows well up, and the after part is full of water."
The meal over, Harborough outlined a plan of action. Until the damage had been made good, as far as their resources permitted, further operations on the wreck were to be suspended. Another store-house, more solidly constructed, and erected on an enclosed clearing farther from the beach, was put in hand. Griffiths and Bell, assisted by Pete, were told off to examine the debris and set aside everything likely to be of value. The two Beverleys, Merridew, Vivian, and Fontayne were to launch the undamaged boats and to extricate the motor-boat from its unaccustomed berth.
"By the by, Claverhouse," said Harborough. "You will be tuning up our remainingCormorant, I presume? If she's absolutely in running-order, I wish you'd make a trip across to Ni Telang and see how theZugstood the gale. Provided she's still afloat, you needn't have any communication with our friend von Giespert. In fact, if you can contrive to escape observation so much the better. I don't want them to know we are anywhere in the vicinity."
"I understand, sir," replied Claverhouse. "If they're down and out, we'll give them a leg up; if they aren't, we'll simply let 'em carry on in their own sweet way."
"Precisely," agreed Harborough.
Alec hurried off to carry out his instructions. It was a task after his own heart, a fairly-long out and home flight, which in his opinion was infinitely preferable to doing "stunts" over the lagoon. Assisted by Trevear, he had the planes reassembled and the engine tuned up in less than an hour and a half. Then, with additional help, theCormorantwas launched and given a preliminary flight.
"Good enough, Trevear, old thing!" shouted Alec. "Sorry you aren't in this stunt. Cheerio!"
The propeller began to revolve; the sea-plane taxied through the water, turned head on to the light breeze, and "took off" in faultless style.
Claverhouse "turned her nose at it", and rose steadily to a height of two thousand feet. Then, following a compass course and allowing for the slight side-drift, he held on for twenty minutes, at the end of which time he could discern the triple peaks of Ni Telang.
The time of day was favourable for a reconnaissance without running much risk of being spotted, for the sun was now almost overhead and blazing down fiercely. Provided he kept at a sufficient height and slowed down his engine until it "revved" just sufficient to give the sea-plane enough lift to counteract the force of gravity, the trick was easy.
Passing over the lagoon at an immense height, Alec got his glasses to bear upon the scene beneath. TheZuglay, apparently undamaged, at the spot where she had dropped anchor at the conclusion of the race to the the wrong island. Two or three boats lay alongside, but there were no signs of activity.
"Looks as if they've packed up ready to go home," soliloquized Claverhouse. "Wonder if they've realized that they've been done in the eye?"
The answer to that question was, in Parliamentary language, "in the affirmative", but Alec did not know that. Von Giespert was on the eve of his desperate venture. He had sworn to gain possession of the gold from theFusi Yamaat all costs. If he failed, then he would make doubly certain that Harborough would never get the precious metal to England.
Harborough's generous action in sending Claverhouse to ascertain that theZugwas safe or otherwise was unnecessary from a life-saving standpoint. The path of the hurricane had missed Ni Telang altogether, the outer edge of the comparatively narrow, curved track passing not nearer than twenty miles of theZug'sanchorage.
Having completed his observations, Claverhouse turned, and, making a long vol-plane, was well out of hearing-distance when he "opened out".
As he did so his trained ear detected an unaccustomed sound. The rythmic roar of the motor was giving place to a decidedly jerky splutter. Greatly retarding the spark, he attempted to coax the engine to pick up; juggling with the throttle produced no satisfactory result. The "revs" grew slower and more erratic, until Alec realized that there was nothing for it but to come down.
The floats struck the water with considerable force. The struts whipped and groaned, but withstood the severe strain. TheCormoranthad alighted safely, but was beginning to drift steadily before the breeze.
"At this rate she'll put me ashore at Ni Telang," thought Alec, as he took off his gloves, pushed back his goggles, and prepared for a determined attempt to trace the fault.
He located it quickly enough, but the knowledge disconcerted him. The magneto had shorted. Possibly the damage had been caused during the gale, but, by one of those extraordinary pranks that magnetos will play, it had functioned perfectly for several hours before "going West".
Claverhouse clambered down to one of the floats and lit a cigarette.
"There's one blessing," he observed to the empty expanse of sea: "Ni Telang in 1920 isn't Ostend in 1917. But I'll have to pitch a yarn to von Giespert, or he'll smell a rat. Wonder what'll happen, though, if I miss the island altogether?"
At the end of two hours drift he was able to reassure himself on that score. Unless there were a decided shift of wind theCormorantwould hit Ni Telang or the reef surrounding it. He did not fancy the latter locality. Even viewed from a great height the surf did not appear inviting.
"If I could only steer the old bus, I'd make the entrance to the lagoon," he decided.
Juggling with the ailerons seemed a likely solution, but the only result was to cause the machine to dip and have a tendency to turn broadside on. The hydro rudder, by which theCormorantcould be turned when taxi-ing on the surface, was inadequate while drifting at slow speed.
"The old bus is done for in any case," he soliloquized, and, armed with a knife, wire-cutters, and pliers he made his way out on one of the planes and removed the starboard aileron. This he lashed to a dismantled strut, and on taking the improvised paddle to the after float he found that he could keep the sea-plane fairly under control with the clumsy steering-oar.
It was not until the derelict was actually within the lagoon that one of theZug'screw spotted the unexpected arrival. A boat was manned and rowed off to theCormorant.
"I suppose I ought to sink the old bus," thought Alec. "If I did, it would look fishy. After all, I don't suppose they'll be able to make use of her."
"Where do you hail from?" inquired the coxswain of the boat. He spoke in English, knowing from grim experience of recent history that English is the master-language of the Pacific, and that German is at a discount.
Claverhouse, with a comprehensive sweep of his arm, indicated a good 180 degrees of the horizon.
The German grunted.
"Get on board," he said gruffly.
Nothing more was said until the boat ran alongside theZug'saccommodation-ladder. There were plenty of men looking over the bulwarks, but they certainly did not appear to be overburdened with work.
Von Giespert's greeting of his uninvited guest left no doubt in Alec's mind about his idea of bluff.
"How's Harborough getting on at Nua Leha?" asked the German bluntly.
"Quite well, when I last saw him," replied Claverhouse. "As a matter of fact, he sent me to see how you were getting on."
"Spying, eh?"
"Not at all," corrected Alec. "He thought your vessel might have been driven ashore in the hurricane last night, and was rather anxious concerning your safety."
"He'll have quite enough to do to think about his own safety before I've done with him," rejoined von Giespert insolently. "Meanwhile, you'll consider yourself a prisoner, Mr. Whatever your name is. If you give trouble, then we'll pitch you to the sharks."
"Right-o," replied Alec. "You might do me one favour, though."
"What's that?" inquired von Giespert.
"Let Harborough know I'm safe."
The Hun laughed boisterously. He felt that as far as his prisoner was concerned he could afford to ride the high horse.
"If Harborough is anxious, he can come here for you," he replied. "I'll be more than ready for him."
image: 07_claverhouse.jpg
image: 07_claverhouse.jpg
[Illustration: CLAVERHOUSE STEERS THE SEAPLANE INTO THE LAGOON]
[Illustration: CLAVERHOUSE STEERS THE SEAPLANE INTO THE LAGOON]