by Mark Hodder
At present the detective could not make the slightest guess at where he was, and even by daylight it would be difficult for him to place the spot where the airship lay, for he knew little or nothing of the Shetlands.
It seemed to him, however, that probably they were on one of the smaller islands, which are nothing more than masses of rocks, and which year in and year out are only visited by sea-birds, save when some good ship, driven there by the storm, flings onto the merciless rocks the bodies of brave men. A few of these survive—very few.
By now the grey in the sky had spread, and over to the eastward it held the look of morning. A faint pink hue had joined the grey, and for a time Sexton Blake wondered why the bottom of the sheet of colour was cut off so abruptly. Later he learnt the truth.
An hour passed, and during that time the Germans had worked on without pause. Then all movement ceased, and the men seemed to have retired. A smell of gas reached the detective’s nose, and he wondered where it came from, unless the balloon was being emptied. Later, by the aid of chemicals, it would not be difficult to refill it.
So day dawned, and as Sexton Blake’s eyes grew accustomed to the dim light he saw much to marvel at, and also much that he had already surmised.
All around him rose high rocks, and he saw that the spot where the airship had landed was entirely surrounded by these, so that she lay in a kind of pit. Not that she would have been noticed much by anyone passing, for the great gasbag had been emptied and stowed somewhere, though the detective could not see where.
The car, with all its complicated machinery, had been pushed on a trolley into a long wooden barn, the sides and walls of which were literally covered by boulders. Beside this building was a smaller one.
All these things Sexton Blake saw, and wondered at the laxity of a Government that had allowed a rival nation to explore these wild islands, and to leave them so unguarded that they had practically already taken possession of one of them.
He smiled as he thought of the surprise that his report would cause, and he meant to take steps to nullify these preparations that must have been going on for years.
While these thoughts were in Sexton Blake’s head, the Germans came out of the shed in which they had packed the car. First came the Kaiser, more unmistakable than ever in the light of day, talking eagerly to Colonel von Harmann. Behind him followed the rest of the men, and Sexton Blake started and peered forward eagerly as he caught sight of one of them.
The man was his own height, the rather pale, clean-shaven face, adorned only by a small moustache, was not unlike his own.
“If he is here till the night, I fancy we shall change places,” the detective muttered.
The sight of this man had put an idea into his head. It was a daring one, but he was used to such things. Capture might mean anything, even death, if the Kaiser were not there to interfere.
As soon as the Germans had entered the building, which was obviously a kind of living place, Sexton Blake drew a small tin box from his pocket, produced a mirror from it, and propped it up against a stone. Then, by the aid of an eyebrow pencil, he altered his eyes the veriest trifle, and cut a small but beautifully made false moustache into the shape worn by the German officer. This he fastened, then looked closely at himself in the glass.
“As far as I can see, there is no difference,” he mused, “and to-night I may have a chance of comparing it with the original.”
That the Kaiser would not attempt to leave save by night Sexton Blake had no fear, for there would be too much chance of him being recognised, especially as a keen but quiet watch was being kept in all the towns for foreigners while the secret manoeuvres were on.
During the next hour Sexton Blake lay behind the boulder, fervently hoping that no one would come in that direction and discover him, and at the end of that time a stroke of luck came his way that helped him considerably.
The German he had marked out emerged from the smaller of the buildings, stood uncertainly with a pair of heavy field-glasses in his hands, then started off briskly across the rocks. Within six yards of Sexton Blake he passed, but the boulder held its secret.
The detective had thought to have to wait for the night before putting his daring plan into execution, but his chance had come much earlier.
He glanced at the building where the officers were, and saw that the door was tight closed. True, someone might be watching from a loophole, but he risked that. Turning, he crawled along in the direction that the German had taken, moving from boulder to boulder, only raising his head from time to time to make sure of the direction his quarry had taken. This was not difficult, for the man was making for one of the highest points of the rock, and so was easy to keep in sight.
Higher and higher the detective climbed, glancing back to make sure that he could not be seen from the hut, and at last stopped, lying flat on the rocks, with the sea stretching out in front of him. Nowhere could he see the German, and he had time to glance round and take his bearings.
Where he lay he could command practically the whole of the little island—for that it was—and he saw that it lacked absolutely any sign of life or vegetation. It was just a clump of rocks that looked as if they had been piled unceremoniously upon each other; and not three miles away lay Lerwick, the roofs plainly discernible in the sunshine.
Now came the most dangerous part of Sexton Blake’s mission—the finding of the German whom he meant to impersonate.
He looked round searchingly, without daring to raise himself from the ground, and his keen eyes soon caught sight of a boot sticking out from behind a rock that lay a matter of thirty yards distant.
More cautiously than ever, and with all the cunning of an Indian, the detective crawled in that direction, and reached the rock. Within a yard of him the boot stuck out, and from the way it occasionally moved the detective could see that the German was shifting his position, so as to get a better view of the sea.
Sexton Blake shifted a few inches nearer, and hesitated. A new plan had suggested itself to him, and though it was risky, it promised well of success. He stretched out his hand until the fingers hovered over the boot, then they clutched it, and he heaved at it with all his strength.
A smothered oath came from behind the boulder, but before it could be repeated in a louder tone Sexton Blake had darted round the rock, and was kneeling on the German. The latter, taken by surprise, made no effort to keep the detective’s grip from his throat, but once the fingers had closed on it, he struggled wildly.
Right on the edge of the rocks, with a drop of fully a hundred feet to the jagged stones below in front of them, the two men fought; but Sexton Blake had started with an advantage, and he kept it. Gradually he wore his enemy’s strength down, half-choking him, until he lay still. Then, using only his left hand, keeping the other on the German’s throat, he released the belt from his waist, and managed to jerk it tight round the other’s wrists.
The rest was easy, and within five minutes the German lay bound and gagged, his own belt fastening his ankles.
Sexton Blake stood looking down at the helpless man, and a little smile played around his lips.
“I fancy you will be safe,” he said in German. “I must apologise for treating you in this manner, but must point out to you that trespassers are always liable to little troubles like this.”
The German, who was rapidly recovering, turned purple with his efforts to free himself or speak, both of which were in vain.
Looking round, Sexton Blake discovered a nook between two boulders, and into this he carried the man. Then he rolled other boulders up—heavy ones that he was only just able to move—so that the man lay in a pit from which, in his helpless state, it would be quite impossible for him to escape.
By the aid of his pocket-mirror Sexton Blake compared his make-up with the face of the German, and slightly altered his moustache. Next, he turned his attention to the clothes, and saw that the man was wearing a blue lounge-suit, which might have been a brother of his own. Only
the collar and tie were different, and these he quickly appropriated and donned.
“Again I must ask you to pardon a liberty,” he said pleasantly; and thrust a hand into the man’s pocket, and pulled out some letters.
All of them were addressed to Lieutenant Bergern, and the detective returned them after noting that fact. Then, with the man’s field-glasses swinging from his hand, he calmly turned and strode down the rocks.
His heart was beating a trifle faster than usual. Perhaps it was because of the struggle that he had just had. Perhaps because he was about to walk calmly into the hands of the Kaiser and his officers, trusting to pass as Lieutenant Bergern.
Down over the rocks he went, and there was not even the slightest sign of hesitation in his manner when he caught sight of the Germans gathered outside the hut.
“Hurry!” Colonel von Harmann cried sharply.
Sexton Blake quickened his pace, and saluted in true German fashion as he joined the group.
Not one of the party looked at him suspiciously.
“There is nothing in sight, Lieutenant?” the Kaiser demanded. “No boats coming towards here?”
“Nothing, your Majesty,” the detective answered.
“Himmel!” the Kaiser said, ejaculating angrily. “Please to remember that I am now Colonel Kelner!”
“Nothing, Colonel!” Sexton Blake said, thankful that his slip had aroused no suspicion. Of his German he had no fear, for he spoke the language like a native.
The Kaiser turned to Colonel von Harmann a trifle impatiently.
“We will see this cave!” he ordered.
“I am ready!” Colonel von Harmann answered; and turned and gave instructions to six of the others, stationing them at various points along the rocks.
As each one started off to his allotted place, Sexton Blake’s heart seemed to stand still for a second, for if one was sent to where the real Lieutenant Bergern lay a prisoner, all would be over. But the six left, not one going to that spot, and the detective breathed freely again.
“Surely there is no need for all this?” the Kaiser said a trifle irritably.
“There is every need,” Colonel von Harmann answered respectfully. “It matters nothing to me if I be captured, all my comrades in arms; but think what it would mean if those Britishers laid hands on you. You would be the laughing-stock of the world—”
“They would not dare!” the Kaiser muttered fiercely.
“Or Britain might take your actions as a cause for war,” the colonel continued impressively.
The anger died out of the Kaiser’s eyes, and he looked round uneasily.
“Yes, yes!” he agreed. “We must not give them excuse. So far there need be no war or rumour of war. I am not here to force trouble and expense of fighting on my country, but to make sure of victory should such an occasion arise.”
“Let us go to the cave.”
Sexton Blake knew now practically all that he desired to know, and he had information enough to startle even the Prime Minister. Nevertheless, he had no intention of getting back to London yet, even if he could escape, for there was more for him to learn. He already knew that the Germans had made their preparations for turning the Shetlands into a naval base should the time for war with Great Britain ever arise, and he meant to discover just what those preparations were, so that they could be made valueless.
Colonel von Harmann turned and led the way from the spot, Sexton Blake and the Germans not on guard going with him. The detective was more than a little relieved to find that no one suspected him in the slightest. In fact he had only one fear now, and that was that Spearing and Tinker would roam around the islands in search of him, strike this one, and be captured.
For three or four hundred yards the little party walked briskly over the rocky ground, and entered a narrow defile. Down this they went, stopping eventually right on the edge of the water, the waves breaking ten or fifteen feet below them. From here Lerwick, and much of the surrounding sea, could be plainly seen.
“A good spot to watch from,” the Kaiser said thoughtfully. “It is well chosen.”
Colonel von Harmann smiled, and tugged at a boulder that lay on his right. It came away with surprising ease, revealing an opening four feet high and three broad. To some extent this was obviously natural, but chisel-marks showed where it had been enlarged.
“You will go in?” the colonel queried.
For answer the Kaiser stooped, and entered the cave, the colonel close behind him.
Sexton Blake calmly made a move to follow, but a German gripped him by the arm and held him back.
“You forget that it is not permitted, comrade!” he said sharply. “The secret of the cave is for the colonel only—and the Kaiser!”
Sexton Blake muttered something unintelligible, and drew back, realising that he had very nearly made a fatal mistake.
Twenty minutes passed, and when the Kaiser emerged there was a smile of satisfaction on his face.
“It is good—very good!” Sexton Blake heard him say to Colonel von Harmann.
“What lay within the cave?” the detective asked himself.
THE RAIN CAME down steadily, and save for the noise of the heavy drops splashing on the rocks, and the faint rumble of the sea, there was no sound on the little island of which the Germans had taken such complete possession, yet Sexton Blake paused every few feet as he moved along in the darkness. An hour back he had taken his turn at watching from the rocks, and that had given him his opportunity of coming down to the cave that held the German’s secret.
There was little risk that he would be discovered, but, nevertheless, he was taking the most minute precautions. When possible, he hid in the shadow of rocks, and every time he moved a foot he took care not to displace so much as a pebble. He was bound upon the accomplishment of a task that would probably mean much to Great Britain, and at such a time it was wise to avoid the smallest risk.
Down into the cutting between the rocks he made his way, peering along it to make sure that the cave was not guarded. There was no one there, and he moved cautiously forward.
Outside the cave at last. With quick fingers Sexton Blake gripped the boulder as he had seen Colonel von Harmann do it, and it came away in his hands, evidently fixed on some cunningly concealed swivel, and before him lay the narrow, black entrance.
He stooped, his back bent nearly double, and passed in. Inch by inch he moved forward in the darkness, feeling his way with his hands, and before he had gone ten yards he found that the passage broadened out, and that the rock roof was high enough for him to stand upright. Then he drew from his pocket an electric-lamp, and switched it on.
For a moment the bright rays dazzled him, but as his eyes became accustomed to it he looked eagerly around.
Certainly there was not much to be seen.
The cave was fully forty feet square, and was fitted all around with shelves, on which stood dozens upon dozens of electric-accumulators. At the far end of the place stood a petrol-driven engine, obviously meant to generate the electricity with which the batteries were stored. In the centre of the cave was a table, and it was to this that Sexton Blake crossed.
Then the detective caught his breath sharply, for at the edge of the table a row of electric buttons protruded, each one bearing a number. The rest of the table was covered by a chart each part of which was marked by a number corresponding with one of the buttons.
What did it mean? Had the Germans laid mines all around the Shetlands? Could they, if they so willed it, blow the great fleet that was manoeuvring to pieces? What other explanation was there?
Carefully avoiding contact with the buttons, Sexton Blake seated himself in the chair that stood before the table, and examined the chart more closely. He looked for Lerwick Harbour, to see how that was marked, and saw to his amazement that there was no mark at all. He sought for other well-known channels and moorings, but in each case there were no numbers there. Then he turned to the parts that were numbered, and saw that they were place
s in the Shetlands which had certainly never been regarded as landing places or harbours.
Puzzled, unable to understand the meaning of it, Sexton Blake rose from the chair and commenced to make a closer examination of the cave. At first he could discover nothing more; but at last, right in the darkest corner, he found an opening concealed by some planks. Pulling these aside, he stepped boldly through, and found himself in a smaller cave, which had evidently been used as a store-house.
Lengths of rope, coils of cable, lay everywhere, but it was a pile of stuff in a corner that attracted Sexton Blake’s attention, and he crossed to it. As he examined it a smile curled his lips, for at last he understood the use that the Germans had put the island to.
The thing that he examined was a length of cable, but the curious part was that at every twenty feet along it a powerful electric-bulb was fixed, this being shaded so that the light could only shine upwards.
It was a piece of cable such as had been designed by a certain Leon Dion for lighting ships into port. Instead of the old buoys, this cable with lights attached was sunk to the bottom, and laid along the navigable channel, then, when the lights were switched on from the shore, the lamps threw a bright glow up onto the surface of the water, and by following this, a ship was able to make port without the slightest trouble.
So far as Sexton Blake knew, this system had as yet not been adopted by any country, but it was obvious that the Germans had seen the advantage of it, and put it to a practical use.
How long they had been at work in the Shetlands the detective had no idea, but he did know that they had discovered fresh landing places, each of which had been marked on the chart fastened to the table, the entrance to them being marked by the sunken lights.
Yes; Germany had made her preparations well. She had ignored the regular ports, knowing how closely they would be guarded once there was a rumour of war in the air, and had found and marked fresh ports for herself.
Sexton Blake hesitated. Should he destroy these preparations? For five minutes he stood undecided, then a solution came to him. He would leave things as they were, and prove at the first opportunity, by a practical demonstration, the danger in which the Shetlands lay.
