by Mark Hodder
“As you will,” the detective answered boldly, “but I should advise you to postpone the manoeuvre, however important it may be.”
The admiral’s face went positively blank with amazement, and an angry flush showed under the tan.
“Don’t fool!” he snapped. “Not used to it.”
“Neither am I,” Sexton Blake assured him. “I have come here to avert one of the biggest dangers that ever threatened Great Britain.”
“Go on!” the admiral ordered, and again the quiet force of the detective was dominating him.
“You know that on more than one occasion the Germans have explored these islands,” Sexton Blake commenced, “also that they have taken soundings all around them.”
“Yes.”
“But you do not know,” the detective continued, speaking slowly and impressively, “that they have made charts showing a clear dozen landing places of which we have no knowledge, and that, what is more, they could steam up to them without danger.”
“Impossible!” the admiral said shortly, though it was obvious that he was impressed. “It would mean taking soundings all the way.”
Sexton Blake shrugged his shoulders, as a man weary of trying to convince another against his will.
“You have heard of the Dion system of undersea lights showing the way down a channel?” he queried.
The admiral started badly, and leant forward eagerly over the table.
“Yes,” he said sharply.
“The Germans have laid such a system in each of the harbours they have discovered,” Sexton Blake said calmly. “Should they at any time wish to attack Great Britain, making the Shetlands their naval base, they have made every preparation to do so.”
The admiral sprang to his feet, all his calm leaving him. Then he stopped before the detective.
“You can prove that?”
Sexton Blake drew the chart that he had made, sodden with sea-water, from his pocket, and laid it on the table.
“That is a copy of their chart,” he said.
For several minutes the admiral pored over it, and his face was set grimly.
“How and where did you come by this?” he demanded; and there was no longer doubt in his eyes.
In as few words as possible Sexton Blake described all that happened, omitting only one fact—the presence of the Kaiser. He knew that the Admiral would not hesitate to make that august person a prisoner, and he was perfectly certain that that was about the last thing that the Government would want.
At the end of the recital Sir Henry paced up and down the cabin, but quickly came to a decision. He touched a bell, and an officer entered.
“Signal that the ships will remain at anchor tonight,” he ordered. “Then get thirteen men and man the largest steam-pinnace. I will take command.”
The officer looked astounded, but touched his cap and hurried out to obey.
“We will teach these Germans whether they can play games like that with us,” the admiral said, as the door closed.
“And what will you do with the Germans if you capture them?” Sexton Blake queried.
“Hold ‘em as prisoners until I get instructions to let them go.”
“And the airship and the cave?” Sexton Blake continued.
“Blow ‘em up!” the admiral growled.
In an almost incredibly short space of time the officer returned to say that all was ready, and the admiral, followed by Sexton Blake, went up onto the deck. As they reached it, Spearing and Tinker stepped forward.
“They will remain aboard here until we return,” Sir Henry ordered.
“I think not, sir,” Sexton Blake answered. “They are in this game with me, and they see it through, or I abandon it.”
Once more the admiral’s temper nearly got the better of him, but he remembered in time that the detective was the only man who could guide him to the little island without delay, so he nodded his assent, and they all clambered down into the pinnace. Thirty sailors were there already, their rifles between their knees, looks of excitement on their faces. That they were engaged on some expedition out of the ordinary, they could guess, and were fairly dying to know what it was.
“Cast off!” the admiral ordered, and Sexton Blake quietly took his place at the tiller. The night was dark as pitch, and as the vessels of the Fleet lay without lights, it was going to be no easy task to steer among them.
Away went the pinnace, a keen look-out being kept in the bows, Sexton Blake heading her away for the little island where he had so nearly lost his life. Beside him sat the admiral, who was fidgeting with the hilt of his sword.
“It is not possible for them to have filled their balloon and got away?” he whispered.
“There is no telling,” Sexton Blake answered, “as I do not know what apparatus they have got there. Probably it is good, for they must have known that at any time they might have to make a bolt for it.
“Half speed!”
Right ahead loomed the little island, as the detective steered with the greatest caution. In the great darkness it was impossible for him to make out the cutting where he intended to land, and there was nothing for it but to steer close to the shore until they reached it. He, too, thought it possible that the Germans might be able to get their airship ready in time to escape, and he sincerely hoped that that would prove to be the case.
Chug, chug, chug!
The sound of a motor reached the ears of the men in the boat, and as they peered forward, they saw the great bulk of an airship come slowly from the little island. She was low down, so much so, in fact, that her car only just cleared the rocks.
The admiral levelled his glasses, and now that the time for action had come, his hands were steady as steel.
“She’s only half filled,” he said, in a low voice, “and they don’t seem to be able to lift her.”
Over went the helm, and the pinnace steamed straight towards the airship, which was only moving very slowly out to sea.
“Full speed ahead!” Sexton Blake shouted.
Hand over hand the pinnace overhauled the airship, the screws of which only turned slowly, as if there had been no proper time to adjust them.
“Unless she can lift out of our reach, we’ve got her!” the admiral growled.
The sailors were gripping their rifles hard, every one of them staring towards the airship, and they were whispering excitedly together.
A petty officer came aft and saluted the admiral.
“We could put some shots through her from here, sir,” he said.
“Then do it; but tell the men to shoot at the balloon, not at the car,” the admiral ordered.
A series of sharp clicks told that the sailors were getting ready.
“Aim high, at the balloon two hundred yards!” rang out the order of the officer.
“Fire!”
A sharp, cracking volley broke the stillness of the night.
“Fire!” rang out again, and a second volley whistled through the air.
Through his glasses the admiral watched the airship, and a smile curled his firm lips.
“They’ve gone home!” he ejaculated. “See, they’re running for the shore!”
He was right enough; the airship, which seemed to be sinking lower towards the waves, was swinging round.
“Push those engines!” the admiral shouted. “We’ve got to get there first!”
The screw revolved faster, and, taking the risk of going ashore, the pinnace raced for the spot for which the airship was making. It would be a near thing—a very near thing—which won.
Straight at the shore the airship drove, and two dark figures dropped from her cage. A couple of men had leapt overboard to lighten her weight, and she rose perceptibly. But the pinnace was close on her, and it was plain that she would reach the shore almost at the same time.
Over the edge of the rocks the airship swayed slowly and sluggishly, and at the same moment Sexton Blake put the helm hard over, and the pinnace grounded against the rocks just below the
cutting where the cave lay.
There was no need for the admiral to give an order. Out of the pinnace the sailors swarmed, and, clambering on to each other’s backs, swarmed up the wall of rock. The admiral was helped up, swiftly and roughly as any of the ordinary seaman, and so were Sexton Blake, Spearing, and Tinker.
Right above them, only a few feet away, the cage of the airship swung.
“Here’s a rope!” a man yelled, and a dozen of his comrades leapt to it and bore the airship down.
A German leant over the car to cut the rope free, but he was too late. Already the car had grounded, and men were slashing at the ropes that held it to the balloon.
Out of the car the Germans came tumbling, and revolvers began to spit viciously.
In the darkness it was hard to tell friend from foe.
It had been no idle wish that had made Sexton Blake insist on coming to the island with the sailors, no desire even to be in at the death of the Germans’ plans. He had come there because, if possible, he meant to get the Kaiser away. He realised fully what trouble his capture would mean—possibly it would even lead to war. Besides, he had already formed a plan that would secure Great Britain against a possible war with Germany, and which would also save the building of the warships that were to be laid down to keep pace with the rival Fleet.
Out of the car the Germans tumbled, firing wildly, and Sexton Blake was in the midst of it. A glance showed him where the Kaiser was, at present unattacked, and the detective leapt straight at him.
The Kaiser threw up his right hand, a revolver gripped in it, but before he could use it, Sexton Blake had wrested it from him and thrown him to the ground.
“Keep still,” he panted, “and I will get you away!”
In the confusion of the fight, each man was for himself, and no one took note of Sexton Blake as he lifted the Kaiser and carried him bodily away to behind a ridge of rocks, where he put him down.
“Stay there!” he commanded sternly. “I will see you safe, and do my best to avert a great scandal!”
The Kaiser folded his arms, and on his strong face was the expression of a man who knows himself to be absolutely beaten.
“I am in your hands,” he said, in a voice that shook ever so slightly. “I was a fool to come. I bow to Fate.”
“You are safe, I tell you, sire,” Sexton Blake answered sternly, “if you obey me. Stay here, and I will get the sailors away with their prisoners. I will return later. In the meantime”—he drew a small pair of scissors from his pocket—“I am afraid that your moustache will have to come off. I shall have to take you to Lerwick, and the loss of it will be disguise enough.”
The Kaiser started back, his fingers touching the moustache which had always been such a distinguishing mark on his face.
“I refuse!” he said sharply.
“As you will,” Sexton Blake agreed. “If a little personal vanity is to stand in the way of your safety, sire, I will say no more.”
The Kaiser’s face worked, then he shrugged his shoulders resignedly.
“Very well,” he agreed.
A few snips of the scissors, and the moustache was gone. That the disguise was good, there could be no doubt, and few people would have recognised in this clean-shaven man the fiercely-moustached Emperor of Germany.
“Stay here,” the detective ordered, “and I will return as soon as possible. It may be hours, even a day; but you can trust me.”
“So,” the Kaiser answered simply, realising how much he must put his trust in this man.
Back to the fight went Sexton Blake, to find it all over, nine prisoners lying on the ground.
“Wondered where you had got to,” the admiral said sharply.
“I went in pursuit of another of the men, sir,” the detective answered quietly; “but he took to the sea. The tides are strong here—he is probably drowned.”
In the darkness the admiral held out his hand to Sexton Blake, who took it at once.
“Britain owes you a great debt, Mr. Blake,” he said earnestly.
“As a Britisher, I am proud to be of service to my country,” the detective answered simply. He could have added that he expected to be of even greater service before this case came to an end.
“What next, sir?”
The admiral pointed to the wreck of the airship.
“All this must be blown up,” he said, with determination. “The rest will lie with the Government. If I had my way”—he glared fiercely at the prisoners who lay bound on the ground—“Germany would hear of this underhand work with a vengeance.”
Quick orders were given, and the wreck was piled into a heap. Then Sexton Blake piloted the admiral and an engineer officer, who carried dynamite cartridges and a coil of wire, to the cave in which the chart and the electric apparatus lay. For five minutes they were in it, and when they emerged, the engineer unwound, as he walked, a coil of wire.
Two hundred yards from the shore the little pinnace lay, and a thin line of wire, invisible in the darkness, ran from her to the rocks. On the deck it was connected with a button.
“Mr. Blake,” Sir Henry said quietly, “you have so far been the leader in this great work. Will you finish it?”
Sexton Blake nodded, stepped forward, and knelt beside the bottom.
“Now,” the admiral ordered.
The detective’s finger pressed the button. A second passed, then on the little island two sheets of flame leapt upwards.
Germany’s plans and her great airship had been scattered by dynamite cartridges.
With a smile, the admiral seated himself in the bows, and glanced at the prisoners who lay on the deck.
“Back to the ship,” he ordered, adding, in a lower voice to the detective, “I think that finishes your work, and finishes it well.”
The detective bowed in acknowledgement, but inwardly he knew that his work had scarcely started, and that much more had to be accomplished before he would be satisfied.
THE SEVENTH CHAPTER
The Kaiser brought to Lerwick—Sexton Blake springs a surprise—Bound for England.
“I OWE YOU a debt that I shall never be able to repay, Mr. Blake,” the Kaiser said gratefully, holding out his hand to the detective. Strangely enough, however, the latter did not seem to notice it.
“There is time enough for that when you are safely back in your own country, sire,” he answered.
The Kaiser turned sharply and looked at his companion, but could read nothing in the expression of the calm face.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Many things may happen before then,” Sexton Blake answered.
The Kaiser shrugged his shoulders sharply, and felt for the moustache that was no longer there.
“What can happen?” he demanded. “I am disguised, and I can soon get a vessel back. Once I am across the frontier I can keep all this dark, and can feign illness until—” he paused, feeling at his bare upper lip again, thus explaining the unfinished sentence.
The two men were seated in a small sailing vessel, which was now creeping into Lerwick Harbour. There was nothing suspicious in this, for no order to exclude all vessels while the Fleet was manoeuvring had been given, and this craft might well be one of those filled with curious sightseers who kept on going out to the Fleet.
Without hindrance the men landed, none of the loafers on the quay imagining that the man who walked with such martial tread was none other than the Emperor of Germany.
“We will go to my hotel,” Sexton Blake said.
“As you will,” the Kaiser agreed. “I can trust you to make all arrangements.”
“You can, sire,” the detective agreed; and there was a curious little smile on his lips.
Straight to his private room in the hotel Sexton Blake led the way. Spearing and Tinker were both there, and they rose respectfully as the Kaiser entered.
“Be seated, my friends,” the detective said quietly. “For the time being his Majesty is plain Mr. Smith. It is wiser, I think.”
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“So,” the Kaiser agreed, with a smile. “And I can assure you that Mr. Smith is hungry. It is late for dinner, but we can have something to eat. After that we will discuss the best plan for getting me back to Germany.”
Sexton Blake had been lighting a cigar, but now he turned to the Kaiser with uplifted eyebrows.
“I beg your pardon?” he queried, as if in surprise.
“We can then make plans to get me back to my own country,” the Kaiser repeated.
“But there is plenty of time for that.” Sexton Blake flung the used match into the grate, and smiled. “Our more pressing need is a plan to get you to London.”
“London!” the Kaiser gasped.
“Precisely, Mr. Smith.” Sexton Blake examined his cigar to make sure that it was burning to his satisfaction, and dropped into a chair.
The Kaiser dropped his fist angrily onto the table.
“Enough of this fooling, my friend!” he said fiercely. “You know that I must return to Germany at once if suspicions are not to be aroused.”
“My dear Mr. Smith,” Sexton Blake protested amiably, “you are surely not going to be so ungrateful as to tear yourself away so soon?”
“I tell you I must get back!” the Kaiser thundered.
Sexton Blake fixed the ash from his cigar, and his smile was that of a man whose mind is made up, and whom nothing will turn from his purpose.
“Do you imagine,” he said slowly, “that this escapade of yours is to pass so lightly? Can you, as a sane man, think that Britain is going to demand nothing of you in return?”
“What can they demand?” the Kaiser asked, in a shaking voice.
“That is not for me to say,” the detective answered; “but there are those in London who will decide.”
“You dare not take me there!”
Sexton Blake rang the bell, and a servant entered.
“Bring anything you have to eat,” he ordered; “then find out how soon there is a boat sailing round the coast to Liverpool.”
