CHAPTER XVIII.
THE CAPTURE OF HANG CHANG.
"Gone!"
Such was the single word which escaped from Captain Oscar Pelham's lips as he gazed over the stern of the British warship into the darkness of the Pacific Ocean.
In vain he scanned the waves, to the rear, to the larboard and starboard. It was all to no purpose; the submarine craft had vanished utterly.
What had become of her? Had those on board become scared and deserted him?
The thought was agony. Andy and old George Dross deserting him? Never!
And yet, why had they gone? Was it possible that men from other warships had come up and captured his beloved ship and made prisoners of all on board.
He looked back of him, and saw Hang Chang, the Chinese captain who had expected to inspect the Holland, coming slowly toward him.
"Is something wrong?" questioned the Celestial.
"The boat—it must have sunk," said Oscar. He knew not what to say.
At this the second yellow commander plucked his companion by the sleeve.
"Perhaps he has no boat," he whispered in Chinese. "It may be a ruse. He may have been deceiving Captain Gresson."
At this Hang Chang shrugged his bony shoulders.
"It may be so. Yet the English captain must know him, or all would not have gone so smoothly in the cabin."
In the meantime, Oscar was straining his eyes as never before, in his search for the Holland.
What was that? A tiny ray of light, shooting up from the dark green depths of the ocean. It was the Holland XI., moving silently and slowly to her old position under the stern. Soon she came up and the trap-door opened noiselessly.
"My vessel is back, sir," announced Oscar, with a bow. "If it will please your highness to visit my filthy quarters I will do what I can to make his visit full of pleasure."
His form of address was in the regular Chinese style—for a Chinaman always depreciates his own residence—and Hang Chang smiled broadly.
"Thank you, I will go," he said, his suspicions removed.
Oscar led the way and the Celestial followed. The second Chinaman held back.
"Have a care!" he called out in Chinese.
By this time Oscar and Hang Chang were on the deck of the new Holland. Andy was looking up the companionway filled with wonder.
"Sixteen, nine," said Oscar, to his lieutenant.
During their spare time Oscar had formulated a secret language and had taught it to all on board of the Holland XI.
Each number meant something important.
Sixteen meant, "There is an enemy here." Nine meant, "Go down as quickly as possible."
Andy understood and passed the word along.
Oscar was on the companionway and Hang Chang was following him, when all of a sudden an alarm arose on board of the Corcoran.
The body of the negro had been discovered and all was confusion.
"A murder!" shrieked the second yellow captain. "I knew something was wrong. Hang Chang, come back!"
Soon faces appeared at the stern of the Corcoran, and a pistol was leveled at those below.
"Come back here!"
"I—I will go back," stammered Hang Chang, in alarm.
"Not much!" retorted Oscar, and seizing the Celestial by the foot he gave a jerk, which landed Hang Chang flat on his back at the bottom of the companionway.
"Down, quick!" cried the young captain, and in a trice the trap in the deck was closed and the Holland XI. began to sink.
They were not an instant too soon, for just as the waters of the Pacific closed over the craft a gun was trained on her from one of the Chinese warships.
Bang! and the ball grazed the upper plates of the submarine boat.
But before another shot could be fired the new Holland was safe, having slid under the Corcoran and away out of sight and hearing.
While this was going on Oscar had thrown himself on Hang Chang.
The Chinese captain was a powerful man and realizing that he had been caught in a trap he resolved to sell his life as dearly as possible.
He was on the floor, but soon he struggled to his knees and tried to throw Oscar.
Over and over went the pair, bumping against the companionway ladder and the hard steel walls of the ship. Then the Chinaman grabbed Oscar by the throat.
"Die, dog!" he hissed in his native tongue. "If I have to go, you shall go with me!"
All was becoming black before Oscar's eyes. He tried to get his breath—to cry out. All in vain.
The young captain felt his senses leaving him, when somebody rushed up. It was Andy, who had left the spot to give directions to the engineer.
Without hesitation Andy leaped at Hang Chang.
One heavy blow behind the ear staggered the Chinaman and another under the jaw made him relax his hold and stagger to the lower step of the ladder.
Then Oscar recovered sufficiently to add another blow, on the nose, which drew blood and caused Hang Chang to become partly unconscious.
"Bring the irons," said Oscar, to one of the ship's hands who was passing.
The irons were speedily brought, and by the time Hang Chang was himself again he was bound, hands and feet, and chained to one of the walls of the Holland XI.
He raved, swore and prayed to his gods for deliverance. He called Oscar all the vile names his tongue could frame, and finally fell in a fit from which he did not recover for hours.
"I tricked him nicely," said the young captain, with a grim smile.
"But what made you bring him on board?" asked Andy.
"He holds an important secret. He knows all about the abduction of President Adams' daughter."
"Oh! Then you have made quite a haul."
"Yes."
The appearance and disappearance of the new Holland had caused much consternation on board of all the warships congregated outside of San Francisco harbor.
Several on board of the Corcoran had known the celebrated spy, Barton Peeks, and from these men the English captain gathered that he was an entirely different looking individual from Oscar.
"We have been duped!" said Captain Gresson. "That rascal must have been a Yankee."
"Then his submarine boat must have been the Holland XI.," added his first officer.
The foreign ships were very uneasy, yet just at present those on them had nothing to fear.
The course of the new Holland was straight for San Francisco.
"We must inform the naval authorities of what has been done at Honolulu, and of the expedition to Alaskan waters," said Oscar.
The new Holland arrived at San Francisco without anything unusual happening, and here Oscar spent a full hour with his superiors.
The naval commander was well satisfied with the work at Hawaii, and astonished that the bombardment of the Golden Gate was to be little more than a ruse.
"We must send a strong fleet to Alaskan waters at once," he said. "And the new Holland must go with our warships."
To hear was to obey, and soon Oscar had received his orders in full, and was once more on board of his submarine craft.
He said nothing to the admiral about Hang Chang, wishing to discover for himself what had become of Martha Adams.
He was not thinking of the one hundred thousand dollars reward offered for her recovery.
He could think only of her beautiful form, her deep brown eyes and that silvery voice which had so thrilled him in former days.
He knew that she was the President's daughter, and stood high in society. Yet he was a captain in the navy and the inventor of a boat which had performed wonders in this fearful war, and there was no telling how high he might stand at the end of the contest.
From the admiral he learned that the navy department contemplated the construction of three other vessels similar to the Holland XI.
If these were built, Oscar would be put in command of the submarine squadron, with the rank of commodore.