It was not until sunset that Villiers was forced to admit the probability that misfortune had overtaken Alec Claverhouse. The majority of the other fellows had already taken pessimistic views upon the subject of the airman's failure to return. Even Harborough, although he said little, was far from hopeful. He realized that the responsibility of the flight rested upon him, and he reproached himself for sending Alec on the trip, when, with very little trouble, theTitaniamight have proceeded to investigate the state of the rival expedition.
"Alec knows his job thoroughly," declared Trevear; "if he's been forced to come down the old bus will float."
"Unfortunately, Nua Leha's dead to windward," remarked Merridew.
"And Ni Telang's dead to leeward," added Beverley. "Of course he might have found that things were in a bad way with theZug, and in that case he would have landed to offer assistance."
"It's no use kagging and hanging on to the slack," said Harborough briskly. "We'll take theTitaniaand search for him. Not at once, though. On a night like this it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. If we start an hour before dawn, it will be daylight when we reach the farthest easterly position he's likely to be, after making due allowance for the drift of the sea-plane. Tell off a couple of hands to remain here, Mr. Villiers. The rest will go on board; they may be more than useful."
With this cryptic utterance Harborough led the way to the boats. Fortunately, there were plenty of tinned and preserved provisions on board theTitania, and she was practically ready for sea at half an hour's notice. Before midnight the remaining boats were hoisted in, the cable hove short, and the sail covers taken off; while, in case Claverhouse should make for the island during the hours of darkness, the searchlight was run in a vertical direction to serve as an aerial signpost.
All hands with the exception of the look-out then turned in to make up much needed arrears of sleep, for neither ashore nor afloat had they had a wink of sleep during the previous night, and had been working at high pressure during the succeeding day.
At 4 a.m. the duty watch was called, and twenty minutes later theTitaniapassed through the gap in the reef under power alone. Directly she rounded the north-eastern extremity of the reef all plain sail was made and the heavy oil engines shut down. For the present, speed was neither necessary nor desirable.
The first streaks of dawn found the yacht ten miles from Nua Leha, doing about five knots before a steady following breeze. A merchantman entering the danger-zone during the height of the unrestricted U-boat campaign could not have kept a sharper look-out than did the crew of theTitaniafor any sign of the overdueCormorant.
It was noon before the peaks of Ni Telang showed above the blue horizon. Only once had theTitaniaaltered her course, and that was to run two miles to the nor'ard to investigate a floating object that turned out to be a large open crate, possibly washed from the deck of a tramp during the hurricane.
"We'll pay friend von Giespert a visit," said Harborough. "Probably he'll wonder what we want, probably he won't. Time will prove."
TheTitaniawas from two to three miles from the reef when Swaine, who had betaken himself to the cross-trees and was making good use of his powerful binoculars, hailed the deck.
"There's the sea-plane, sir," he announced. "Close to the beach, about a hundred yards to the right of that dark bluff."
Harborough, closely followed by Villiers and Bobby Beverley, swarmed up the rigging. There was little doubt about it. They could distinguish what looked like the sea-plane, floating head to wind, at about a quarter of a mile from theZug'sberth. Even as they looked a wreath of haze drifted down and hid a considerable portion of the island from view.
"Wonder if von Giespert's spotted us?" said Harborough, as the three men regained the deck, leaving Swaine to perform the task of conning the yacht through the passage between the reefs. "They've got theCormorantright enough, unless our eyesight's very much at fault. Let's only hope that Claverhouse is safe."
Villiers went for'ard to see that the anchor was ready for letting go, and the anchor-buoy ready for streaming. He had not been there more than a couple of minutes before Swaine hailed again.
"Haze's cleared," he reported; "but I can't see the sea-plane."
The anchorage was now clearly visible from the deck, and, as the mast-head man had stated, there was not a sign of theCormorant.
"Either she's been spirited away," thought Villiers, "or else we've been victims of an hallucination."
It was a tricky passage into the lagoon, for a fairly heavy ground-swell, hardly perceptible off the island, made theTitaniaevince a tendency to yaw just at the critical moment. Scraping a ledge of coral by a none-too-wide margin, she gained the sheltered lagoon, rounded-to, and dropped anchor.
Before the canvas was lowered and stowed a boat was observed putting off from theZug, but Claverhouse was not one of its occupants. Seated in the stern-sheets in a white drill uniform was von Giespert.
"Good-day, Sir Hugh," hailed the German, when the boat was within twenty yards of the yacht. "Your visit surprises me. I hope you are aware that the time-limit you imposed is not yet half expired?"
"I am perfectly aware of that, Herr von Giespert," replied Harborough. "We are here on a very different business. I understand that one of my sea-planes is here."
"Sea-planes?" repeated von Giespert, with well simulated astonishment. "I do not understand."
"Let me enlighten you," said Harborough, and proceeded to outline his version of what had taken place.
"You are obviously mistaken," persisted the owner of theZug. "Look where you will there is no seaplane of any description here. Perhaps you are misled by taking that tent for the missing machine. And as regards your aviator, you may accept my assurance that it would be a pleasure to me to be able to restore him to you. Unfortunately, since he is not here, that is impossible."
Harborough's brows contracted.
"I have the right to search the island," he declared bluntly. "Are you prepared to give me permission to search your ship?"
Von Giespert assumed an air of injured dignity. Up to the present he had played his part well, for, the moment the approachingTitaniahad been sighted, he had sent a boat ashore and had quickly scuttled theCormorantby the simple expedient of smashing the floats.
"Your request is an insult, sir," he replied. "As such I can only refuse it. To accede would be throwing away my dignity. Remember, that ship flies the German flag, and England is now at peace with Germany. Virtually, theZugis German territory, and should you persist——"
"You would resist by force of arms, eh?" added Harborough.
Von Giespert hesitated. To admit that would also be acknowledging that he feared the result of the search.
"No, no," he replied; "but I would at once make for the nearest port where there is a German Consular Agent and enter a complaint of the outrage to the German flag."
"Then there is no more to be said," rejoined Harborough, and, ignoring the Hun, he turned and went below.
"We are certainly in a bit of a fix," he admitted, conferring with Villiers and Beverley. "There's something fishy about this business. I'm rather inclined to arm a boat and board theZug, but if Claverhouse isn't on board then we'll let ourselves in for damages. I couldn't swear positively that I saw the sea-plane, neither could you. We saw something which we took to be theCormorant, and, taking it for granted, we allowed an illusion to get the better of us."
Both Villiers and Beverley admitted that they might have been mistaken. The powers of suggestion which had, as they now thought, conjured up the sea-plane, had now destroyed the belief.
"We're wasting time," continued Harborough. "Claverhouse may be drifting farther and farther away every moment. We'll weigh and run a hundred miles to leeward, if necessary. I won't throw away a single chance of getting him back."
He went on deck and gave orders for the cable to be hove in. Under the action of the powerful capstan twenty fathoms came on board easily and rapidly; then came a decided check.
"Foul bottom," declared Villiers, as he leant over the cathead and peered into the clear water. "The fluke's caught in a rock, I'm afraid. We'll try tripping the hook."
Accordingly, the nun-buoy was fished on board, and the slack of the stout hempen rope that led between it and the crown of the anchor was hauled in until the yacht's bows were right over the anchor.
Every available man tailed on to the rope, but even with the aid of a tackle the anchor stubbornly refused to leave the bed of the lagoon.
"And we haven't a diving-dress on board," lamented Swaine.
"I'm not going to borrow one from theZug, in any case," said Harborough resolutely. "Avast heaving and slack away. I'll get power on the ship and see what that will do. Something's bound to go."
Something did. With both engines running at full speed, the yacht forged ahead until the cable snubbed and her bows dipped a good two feet below the water-line. Then with a heavy lurch theTitaniaheld on, the fluke of her anchor grinding on the coral bottom.
Getting way off the ship Harborough ordered the cable to be hove-in. This time the links came in steadily but slowly. There was more than the weight of the anchor at the end of the massive chain.
Suddenly Villiers gave a shout of astonishment.
"At that!" he ordered, and at the same time motioning to the hand at the capstan to stop heaving. "Evidence!" he shouted. "We've fished up the remains of theCormorant."
This time there was no doubt about it. One of the flukes was embedded in the sea-plane's motor, and with it was a large portion of one of the wings, a part of the wreckage of the fuselage, and a float bearing unmistakable signs of being stove in by means of an axe.
"That's conclusive," said Harborough sternly. "Since von Giespert won't listen to reason, I'll have to teach him a lesson. Get that piece of wing aboard for evidence, although I guess he's tumbled to it already. He's been watching us all the time, the blackguardly sweep. We'll bluff him. If that fails, then we'll use force, but only as a last resource. He's asking for it all the time."
Kaspar von Giespert took more than an interested view of the developments of the next hour. He was considerably perturbed when, through a telescope that decorously protruded through a gap in a storm-dodger, he watched the impromptu salvage operations of the scuttled sea-plane.
He took a more cheerful view of life when theTitaniagot under way and proceeded seawards, but at the same time that evolution considerably mystified him. He could not understand why the Englishman should retire so tamely from the argument when he had undisputable evidence to support his case.
Von Giespert was on the point of shaking hands with himself and abusing some of his crew—an indication that he was regaining his normal state of mind—when Strauss announced that theTitaniahad turned sixteen points to starboard and was again making for the island.
"We'll fight her," declared von Giespert vehemently, for he realized that the game was a desperate one. "Serve out the arms, Herr Strauss. Himmel! What would I give now for a submerged torpedo-tube? Would that she piled herself upon the reef. She nearly did it last time."
"Harborough is more cautious this time," observed Strauss. "He's coming in under power."
"He is, curse him," growled the other.
The two Germans watched in silence as theTitania, with her exhaust chortling noisily, passed through the narrow gap and starboarded helm, steering for the opposite part of the lagoon to that where theZuglay at anchor. That was another puzzler to the already bewildered von Giespert.
Presently the yacht reversed engines and lost way broadside on to and at about a mile from her rival. Then, to the consternation of the crew of theZug, a large gun, of a calibre certainly not less than 4.7 inches, was ominously visible betwixt fore- and main-masts. Simultaneously, and without any preparatory signal, a hoist of the letters VOX—"I am going to semaphore to you"—fluttered from theTitania'smain truck.
Slowly, reluctantly, the answering pennant was displayed from theZug.
"I thought you informed me that yonder yacht was unarmed," exclaimed von Giespert, turning furiously upon his henchman, Strauss.
"She was when we left Southampton, Herr Kapitan," replied Strauss. "That I can swear to, because we had her under observation all the time. Of course, she might have——"
"They're semaphoring," interrupted von Giespert. He himself could not follow the quick movements of the red and yellow hand-flags, but most of theZug'screw could. More than that, they could read the peremptory message although it was sent in English.
"Hand over my airman, Claverhouse, instantly," it read, "or I will blow your bridge and charthouse to blazes."
Von Giespert chose the first alternative.
Three quarters of an hour later theTitania, with Alec Claverhouse once more on board, was bowling along at a steady nine knots for Nua Leha.
Then it was that Harborough, with a playful movement of one hand, toppled the formidable 4.7 inch gun through the hatch into the fore-hold. The mounting followed with a distinctly "tinny" sound. The feat was an easy one, since the "gun" consisted of a twelve-foot length of stove-pipe, and the mounting a piece of sheet iron and an empty oil-drum.
"So friend von Giespert is breathing out threatenings and slaughter, eh?" he laughed. "From what I know of him, his bark is worse than his bite, but we'll have to watch him pretty carefully in the future."
It was not until the morning of the fifth day after the storm that operations upon the wreck of theFusi Yamawere resumed.
Since it was found upon a second examination that the hull of the motor-boat was somewhat strained and required intricate repairs before it could be rendered seaworthy, the motor was taken out and installed on a strong platform supported by the gig and the whaler. It meant devoting two boats to a duty formerly performed by one, but the motor was necessary, since it worked the dynamo that in turn provided light for the divers to work by.
Villiers and Swaine gained the wreck by following the guide-rope from the beach. They found the rope buried deeply in the sand at places, while another result of the gale was the almost entire removal of the bed of mud on which the ship lay, its place being taken by a deposit of sand and lumps of coral that had been detached from the reef under the terrific force of the breakers.
More than once it required the united efforts of both men to lift the rope clear of the sand that covered it, while in one spot an accumulation of seaweed took a quarter of an hour's hard work before the tenacious tendrils could be cut and the rope exposed.
Upon gaining the deck Villiers could see that the damage done by the hurricane was considerable. Most of the deck-houses and the promenade deck, which had stood the effect of four years' submergence without much sign of deterioration, had been swept away, while a vast quantity of sand had found its way below. This was sufficient evidence to prove that the hurricane had been the worst ever experienced at Nua Leha since the time when theFusi Yamahad been scuttled.
Outside the strong-room things were not so bad. There were tons of sand, but most of it had shifted owing to the list of the wreck, and lay five or six feet high against the interior side of the ship.
Adjusting the powerful lamp, so that its rays showed directly into the strong-room, Swaine beckoned to his companion to enter.
If Villiers expected to walk into a treasure-chamber glittering with gold, he was mistaken. The place was piled with wooden boxes, some of which had been wrenched open, displaying their rather dull but heavy contents, but on the shelves, and secured from the motion of the ship by steel grids, were canvas sacks. A few of these, rotted by the action of the salt water or else hurriedly ripped open when the Huns made a hasty examination of their booty, had shed a shower of gold coins upon the boxes and on the floor. There were British and Australian sovereigns, Japanese five-yen pieces, Chinese gold taels, and five-dollar pieces, representing almost every American republic on the Pacific coast, and mixed haphazardly.
With little delay the work of clearing the strong-room commenced. New canvas sacks, weighted with pieces of iron, were lowered from the boats above. Into these were poured the contents of the rotten sacks, then at a prearranged signal the men on the raft hoisted the precious specie to the surface.
It was a slow, laborious but at the same time pleasureable task. Movements that could be quickly executed in air were greatly retarded by the pressure of water, and by the time that the divers' air-supply was showing signs of exhaustion only a quarter of the coin had been salved.
For the next week the operations continued uninterruptedly. Villiers and Swaine each making two descents a day.
Compared with the task of recovering the bullion, the preliminary work of clearing the specie was simple. The bullion, packed tightly in iron-bound boxes, had to be extricated bar by bar, for as originally packed each case was too heavy, even under water, to be manhandled.
There were delays, too, in transporting the recovered treasure to theTitania, owing to the lack of sufficient boats, so that, according to Villiers' estimate, three weeks would elapse before the precious metal would be stowed in the yacht's hold.
Dick Beverley was enjoying himself immensely. He worked quite as hard as anybody, and his one regret was that he had not been allowed to don a diving-dress and make a descent. This Harborough bluntly refused to allow.
"This is a salvage company, not a nursery for amateur divers," he remarked, although his refusal was based upon his compact with Bobby Beverley not to expose Dick to any unnecessary risk.
By common consent a substantial share of the treasure was to be given to Pete. The man had earned it fairly. As a cook he was painstaking and conscientious, and when not engaged in his duties in the galley he was always ready and willing to bear a hand at other work.
"What are you going to do with your little lot when we pay off, Pete?" asked Villiers.
Pete's features were almost hidden by a mouth that stretched practically from ear to ear as he gave a prodigious grin.
"Do, sah? Be coloured gen'lman at Barbadoes, Massa Villiers. Buy top-hole swagger hotel an' get dollars from Yankee visitors. P'r'aps I buy a sail-boat and take people round de islands. If any of you gen'lmen come to Barbadoes, be sure to look up Massa Pete Johnson. He put you up free, gratis, and for nothin'."
"Then you're not sorry that Captain Abe booted you out of theLucy M. Partington?" asked Bobby.
"No, sah." Pete evidently did not wish to reopen an unpleasant incident, for he turned somewhat abruptly to O'Loghlin. "Say, Massa," he asked anxiously, "you understan' motors. Will I be able to run a swagger car? One that licks creation for goin' tarnation quick?"
"If you handle the steering-wheel of a car as well as you do a frying-pan, you'll be a rattling good driver, Pete," replied O'Loghlin, pushing aside his empty plate with a satisfied sigh.
The salvage operation continued without a hitch in glorious weather and under ideal conditions. The divers' dread of sharks seemed to have been a needless one, for the noise of the motors and the activity of all hands had no doubt scared the tigers of the deep.
One day Villiers was at work below, when he noticed a gaudily-coloured fish dart out from behind a box, and graze his hand. The fish was but a small one, less than six inches in length, but its dorsal fins resembled trailing tendrils and its tail ended in two tapering points.
Hardly paying any attention to the creature, for fishes were continually swimming around the divers, Villiers began prising open the metal-bound box. Before he had completed his task his arm was throbbing frightfully, and his hand seemed to lose the power of gripping things.
He "stuck it" for another ten minutes, then signed to Swaine that he was finishing work. Before he reached dry ground he felt on the point of collapse, and when he did gain the beach he toppled inertly upon the sand, to the astonishment and alarm of Vivian and Merridew, who were standing by to assist the diving-party.
They divested him of his diving-suit. By this time his arm had swollen tremendously, and the flesh was turning a dull-grey colour.
Harborough, hastily summoned ashore, diagnosed the symptoms as being similar to those of snake-bite, There were a couple of minute punctures on the back of Jack's hand, through which the poison had been transmitted to his veins.
For the next twelve hours it was touch and go with Jack Villiers. His comrades plied him with enough raw whisky to make a man in ordinary health helplessly intoxicated. They walked him up and down without giving him the slightest chance of rest. The treatment was drastic, but it was successful, and, although the arm remained swollen and painful, the danger was past.
Much to his disgust, Villiers had to "stand down", and Swaine carried on alone. That meant more delay, but it was unavoidable, and things might have been worse. Further difficulties were met with through the temporary breakdown of the submarine lighting arrangements, and until that was rectified Swaine was perforce obliged to relinquish his visits to the wreck.
"Look here, old man," said Jack, one morning as Swaine was preparing for a descent. "I'm fit again. There is no reason why I shouldn't go with you."
"Better wait till you've seen Harborough," objected Swaine. "You might jolly well think you're all right, but I shouldn't like the responsibility of passing you fit for duty."
"Right-o," agreed Jack, who saw the force of his fellow-diver's argument. "Don't wait. I'll push off afloat and see what Harborough has to say."
Swaine proceeded on the submarine work alone. Although glad of Villier's company, he realized that the latter was far from being fit for the strenuous toil demanded of a diver. He, Swaine, could do sufficient work below to keep the surface-party busy, and the task of recovering the treasure was now within measureable distance of conclusion.
It was yet early. The morning mists had not entirely dispersed when Swaine waded into the water, awkwardly at first, but with more freedom as the leaden-weighted suit dipped beneath the surface.
Swaine wasted no time in getting on board the wreck and setting to work. He had now a fair amount of elbow-room, since most of the metal-lined boxes had been removed, and a thousand pounds worth of gold was being sent up every five minutes.
He felt in fine fettle and, to use his own expression, "full of beans". So intent was he upon his task that the time slipped by rapidly, until a slight buzzing noise in his ears warned him that the self-contained air-reservoir was not far off a state of exhaustion. In fifteen minutes the supply would be "dud", and it usually took him twenty minutes to reach the shore.
He "knocked off" in a hurry; at the same time, he realized that if things came to a pitch he could blow himself to the surface. This he was loth to do, as the sudden ascent generally incapacitated a diver for several hours.
Slipping over the side of the wreck and grasping the guide-rope, Swaine began to make his way ashore as rapidly as the resistance of the water permitted.
"Current's frightfully strong to-day," he soliloquized, as the rush of water almost swept his feet from under him. As it was, he had to hang on like grim death to the rope and haul himself along hand over hand until he had crossed the track of the submarine stream.
Here the lagoon shoaled considerably. There was sufficient depth to allow a pale-green light to penetrate to five or six fathoms of water, while visibility increased a distance of ten or twelve feet.
Happening to turn his head within the immobile helmet and to glance through the side plate-glass window, Swaine came to a sudden halt and gave a gasp of surprise. Within three yards of him, and floundering along on a slightly converging course, was a man in a self-contained diver's suit.
"So Villiers has got into harness after all," he thought. "Wonder how he came to lose touch with the direction-rope?"
He raised one hand in greeting, at the same time holding up the rope that served as a guide between the wreck and the shore.
Then to his utter astonishment he discovered that it was not Jack Villiers, nor indeed any of theTitania'smen, indulging in a little submarine expedition. The diving-dress was different in certain details.
Swaine was not left long in doubt as to the stranger's intentions. Apparently the other diver was as surprised as he was, for he halted, swaying slightly in the comparatively feeble current. Then, slowly fumbling, he drew out a knife that showed a pale, dull-greenish glint in the subdued light.
Courageous though he was, Swaine felt his heart beating violently. He was still undecided as to whether the stranger intended sticking the point of the steel into him or whether he meant to cut the guide-rope. In any case, Swaine realized that he would have to act on the defensive.
Drawing his own knife, Swaine, holding on to the rope with his left hand, planted his feet firmly and threw his weight slightly forward. Then he awaited developments. He was handicapped by the fact that his air-supply was now noticeably weak. He might, with discretion, attempt to elude his antagonist, but he realized the disadvantage of showing his back to a man who might possess a greater degree of mobility. Nor did he fancy a knife-thrust as he was in the act of blowing himself to the surface.
No, the issue had to be decided there and then.
Holding his knife dagger-wise across his chest, the unknown assailant advanced. Swaine stood on the defensive. He was in an awkward predicament, for the current that was helping his opponent was against him.
The other feinted. It was a comparatively slow movement compared with the lightning-like thrust of a practised fencer. The pressure of the water was too great for rapidity of action.
Swaine was not prepared for what followed. His antagonist arrested the blow and at the same time hacked ponderously with his leaden-shod boot. The metal rasped on Swaine's bare knuckles grasping the rope, as he stepped backwards to avoid the full force of the blow. The next instant a cut with the keen blade of the other's knife severed the guide-rope.
The sudden release of the tautened rope sent Swaine staggering a good three yards. He found himself sprawling on the sandy bottom, his efforts to regain his feet disturbing the sand to such an extent that it was almost impossible to see anything beyond arm's length.
Not daring to transfer his knife from his right hand to his left, Swaine fumbled for the release-valve of the buoyancy-flask. His fingers, numbed with the glancing blow they had received, were almost useless, and his head was swimming with the effect of the now impure air. Before he could attain his immediate aim he saw the distorted figure of his antagonist through the now clearing water.
Still struggling to regain his feet, the while guarding himself with his knife, Swaine realized that the odds were very much against him. He found himself vaguely wondering what the effect of a thrust would be through the thick rubber and canvas fabric of his diving-suit. All the same, he meant to stick it, and, if needs be, "die game".
The other approached warily, but there was a suggestion of triumph in his movements. He began circling round his prostrate opponent, seeking a favourable opportunity of closing. He hesitated, possibly because he feared a ruse on the part of the Englishman, who, with knife uplifted, kept turning so that he was always face to face with his assailant. Obviously these wearing-out tactics were telling upon Swaine. The longer the other delayed, the worse became his state owing to the poor quality of his air-supply.
At length the unknown diver raised his arm to deal a stroke. He did it dramatically, pausing with the blade held high above his head.
With senses dulled, Swaine steeled himself to meet the deadly stroke, but the stroke never came.
A rush, a swirl of water, and a blurred vision of the other diver sinking slowly on his face told Swaine that deliverance had come from a totally unexpected quarter.
A huge shark, attracted by the glitter of the knife, had bitten off the fellow's hand just above the wrist, at the same time tearing the india-rubber cuff of his diving-dress and allowing a considerable amount of air to escape.
The shark, finding its palate unpleasantly tickled by the sharp steel, and not laying claim to be a sword-swallower, decided that one mouthful was enough and made off for pastures new, leaving the interrupted principals of the submarine duel to settle matters as best they could.
The instinct of self-preservation, coupled with the fact that he yet had a faint chance of escape, rallied the semi-torpid Swaine sufficiently to enable him to take action.
He dropped the knife and groped for the release-valve of the compressed-air reservoir. Half a turn, and he felt the buoyant air rushing into the double folds of his diving-suit. Even as he realized that he was parting company with the bottom of the lagoon he found himself looking at his late antagonist, who was writhing in agony, with a ruddy stream mixed with air-bubbles rising from the clean-cut stump of his severed arm.
Not knowing why he did so, whether it was the irresponsible act of a light-headed man, the sudden impulse of an overstrung brain, or generous pity for a beaten foe, Swaine gripped the fellow by the arm, at the same time turning the release-valve of his buoyancy-flask full on.
Up he shot to the full extent of arm's length and no farther. The lifting powers of the inflated diving-dress were sufficient only for one. Weighed down by his former antagonist, Swaine saw no chance of bringing the latter to the surface, until an inspiration seized him. Having once set his hand to the plough, he was loth to turn back until his task was completed.
The unknown's knife was at that moment seriously incommoding a shark; his own had dropped, but he remembered it was attached by a lanyard to his belt. He recovered it; then, still retaining his hold of the other diver, he pulled himself down until he was able to slash the lashings that secured the leaden weights to the fellow's chest and shoulders.
Then, and then only, did both men rise to the surface, Swaine horizontally, the other vertically owing to the fact that his feet were still weighted with lumps of lead.
For the next hour, as far as Swaine was concerned, everything was a blank.
He recovered consciousness to find himself lying on a mattress on the deck of theTitania.
"How's the other bloke?" were his first words.
"The other bloke," replied Villiers, "is progressing favourably in the circumstances."
As a matter of fact, although the fellow's identity was revealed directly his helmet was removed, none of the others knew that a life-and-death duel was in progress when the shark butted in so opportunely. They were greatly surprised to find Swaine bob up unconscious from the bottom, still grasping the apparently lifeless form of his late antagonist—Siegfried Strauss.
While Villiers and Beverley set to work to restore their comrade to consciousness, Harborough, O'Loghlin, and Trevear did a like office for the German. They were puzzled as to the cause of the loss of the man's hand, for the amputation had been performed as cleanly as if by a knife, while the pressure of his rubber wrist-band had checked what would have been a dangerous haemorrhage. Applying a tourniquet before cutting away the diving-dress, the three amateur surgeons felt that they had succeeded in saving the German's life unless he sank under the effect of shock to the system.
Although curious to hear Swaine's version of the business, his comrades wisely forbore to question him until he had completely recovered from his narrow escape. Meanwhile they were putting forward numerous conjectures as to the reason for Strauss' submarine jaunt.
"Where could he have come from?" asked Beverley. "TheZugisn't anywhere in sight."
"Unless she's off the other side of the island," added Villiers. "Even then he must have started from a much nearer base. We'll have to investigate."
"Why did he?" persisted Beverley. "That's what I want to know."
He received his answer in no uncertain way.
A tremendous roar rent the sky, followed by a rush of air and the noise of cascades of water falling into the sea. Over the spot where lay the wreck of theFusi Yamathe usually placid surface of the lagoon was lashed into a wide cauldron of leaping, hissing foam.
"Fritz again—the dirty dog!" exclaimed Harborough, when the reverberations of the detonation had subsided. "It might have been worse if we had been working on the boat."
Where the two boats, joined by a platform, had been, was a patch of discoloured water, on which shattered fragments of timber were bobbing in the strong sunlight. Had the working-party not ceased work to convey the rival divers to the yacht, no one would have escaped the force of the explosion.
"This is not the work of one man," declared Villiers. "Let's get ashore."
The suggestion was promptly acted upon, and on gaining the beach Harborough and his companions were greeted by the spectacle of Dick Beverley and Pete, armed with rifles, driving before them a couple of theZug'screw, who marched with arms upheld in the good old-fashioned way they were taught in the Great War.
"Pete and I had been after pigs," explained Dick. "We were on our way back when we saw two strange men lying face downwards on the cliff, apparently watching theTitania. Of course, we couldn't do anything then, except watch them, because the land isn't our private property, but when that explosion went off and they began laughing and shaking hands we thought it time to have a say in the matter. We did," he added grimly, "and they came quietly."
The prisoners, finding that they were not beaten, kicked, or otherwise misused by their captors after the custom of certain German officers in charge of prison-camps during the war, became fairly communicative.
Four men, under the command of Siegfried Strauss, had left Ni Telang in one of theZug'sboats, and landed on Nua Leha close to the spot where Dick had met with a mishap during his first pig-hunting expedition.
Leaving one man in charge of the boat, Strauss and the other three, carrying explosives, an electric automatic time-fuse, and two divers' suits, crossed the island, keeping under the shelter of the palm groves until they reached the cove where the two sea-planes had been berthed.
While two of the men kept watch, Siegfried and a companion donned their diving-dresses and walked into the sea.
What happened could only be left to conjecture, unless Strauss at a later date thought fit to explain his movements. Apparently they found the wreck and placed their explosive charges in position. Upon the return journey they became separated. His course deflected by the current, Strauss found himself confronted by Swaine, the former's astonishment being almost as great as the latter's. Of the fate of the other Hun diver nothing was ever known. He might have been eaten by a shark, or he might have lost direction and been killed by the shock of the explosion, or else, which was more likely, he was asphyxiated owing to the failure of his air-supply.
That afternoon Merridew, O'Loghlin, Griffiths, and Bell, all armed, proceeded to the place where theZug'sboat lay. They made an easy capture of the last member of the submarine raiding-party, and, what was a welcome prize, the boat as well—a stoutly-built 25-feet cutter.
They returned to the camp in the boat, following the shore inside the reef, and the three prisoners were placed under lock and key in one of theTitania'scabins, the crew taking turns to keep watch outside the door to prevent any attempt to escape.
Next morning Villiers volunteered to descend to the wreck and ascertain the state of the hull after the explosion. Since the guide-rope had been severed, the captured boat was pressed into service and moored as close as possible, going by cross-bearings, to the spot where the lighting-plant had been stationed. Since the latter had been destroyed, Villiers had to rely upon his portable electric lamp.
The depth to which he descended before his feet touched the bottom surprised him. It was greater than he had previously worked in, and no natural light penetrated the dark waters. At first he fancied he was in a submarine forest. Gaunt ribs, distorted in the rays of the lamp, reared themselves on either hand. Closer examination showed that they were not metal but timber, badly eaten by worms, and thickly encrusted with barnacles.
His foot catching in some obstacle caused him to throw the light of the lamp upon the ground.
He was standing on a bed of coral on which lay dark shapes in hundreds, like a cart load of bricks dumped on the ground.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed to himself. "I've come to the wrong shop. This must be the wooden hulk Swaine spoke about. She must have had lead pigs for ballast. Even that lot's worth a fortune at the present-day price for lead."
Hardly knowing why he did so, Villiers lashed one of the pigs of ballast to his shot-rope, then, paying out his distance-line as he went, he made for his real objective—the wreck of theFusi Yama.
When that vessel's bilge loomed through the water, Villiers found that he was close to the starboard bow. Much of the steelwork had been stripped of its thick covering of weed and barnacles by the force of the explosion, but of actual damage done to the hull there was none.
By a rare slice of good luck, as far as Harborough and his companions were concerned, Strauss had miscalculated the distance and direction of the wreck of theFusi Yamafrom shore, and had deposited the explosive charges against the side of the old wooden wreck in the belief that it was the other. The remainder of the gold was still intact. Von Giespert had shot his last bolt, and the missile had gone wide of the mark.
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 theFusi Yamahad 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 theTitania'screw 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 theZugback 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 theTitaniaand 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 twoCormorantswere 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 theZugdidn'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 theTitania'sprojecting 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 theTitania'scounter 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!"