CHAPTER XXII
While the captain and the chief engineer were mustering such men aswere in any way fit to work the ship, or to help in getting the portengine into running order, Chrysie and her father paid a visit to thestaterooms. Hardress and Lord Orrel were both sleeping as deeply asever and breathing heavily. The president tried to rouse them, withoutavail. Their pulses were beating regularly, and, apart from theirheavy breathing, there was nothing to show that they were not in ahealthy sleep; but they were absolutely insensible to any outsideinfluence; and Chrysie found Lady Olive, Adelaide, and Madame deBourbon in exactly the same condition. Ma'm'selle Felice was in greatdistress about her two mistresses, but Chrysie cut her lamentationsvery short by saying:
"You look after your ladies, Felice, and don't worry about anythingelse; your place is down here, and don't you come on deck, whateverhappens. There's a boat coming up that may be the same one youtelegraphed to at Cherbourg from Southampton. If it is, you see this?"she went on, taking her revolver out of her pocket. "Yes, that'll do;I don't want any theatricals, but you go to your cabin and stop there.If you're wanted you'll be sent for."
Ma'm'selle Felice shrank away white and trembling, and Miss Chrysiewent back on deck to get the Maxims ready for action. She met herfather under the bridge, and said:
"I reckon, poppa, they're all pretty dead down there. We'll have tosee this thing through on our own hands."
The chief and his men worked like heroes on the shaft, and a good headof steam was by some means kept up, but the other yacht crept rapidlyup across the eastern horizon, and by breakfast time it was perfectlyplain that she was the _Vlodoya_. Moreover, both Miss Chrysie and thecaptain from the bridge had been able to make out with their glassesthat she was carrying a Maxim-Nordenfelt gun on her forecastle, andtwo others which looked like one-pound quick-firers on either side, alittle forward of the bridge. She was flying no flags, not even thepennant of the Imperial Yacht Squadron, to which she belonged. The_Nadine_ was flying the Blue Ensign and the pennant of the Royal YachtSquadron. When the _Vlodoya_ was within about eight miles, headingdirectly for the _Nadine_, the president sent down to ask Mr M'Nivenhow long it would be before the port engine could be used, and theanswer came back, "A good hour yet, but everything is going allright."
Just at this moment the captain was overtaken with another fit ofsickness and dizziness, and had to go down to his room; and Mr Vernonremained in charge of the bridge with Miss Chrysie, who was walking upand down, with a strange look of almost masculine sternness on herpretty face, and the gleam of a distinctly wicked light in her eyes.
For her the minutes of that hour passed with terrible slowness as shewatched the _Vlodoya_ coming up mile after mile, with torrents ofsmoke pouring out of her funnels. She was evidently steaming everyyard she could make. A quarter, half, and three-quarters of an hourpassed, and still she kept on, looming up larger and larger astern,and Miss Chrysie looked more and more anxiously at the long gun ondeck and the two Maxims on the bridge.
Again a message went down to the engine-room, and the answer cameback--"Another twenty minutes." Just then a line of signal flagsran up to the _Vlodoya's_ main truck. The chief officer's glassesinstantly went up to his eyes, but after a long look he shook hishead and said to the president:
"That's no regular signal, Mr Vandel; it's evidently a private one,arranged beforehand, I should say."
"Then we won't answer it," said the president, "and we'll see whathe'll do next. I guess, if he's what we think him, he'll have todeclare himself right away."
They hadn't very long to wait, for about five minutes afterwards apuff of smoke rose from the _Vlodoya's_ forecastle, and a seven-poundshell came screaming and whistling across the water. It was the firsttime that Miss Chrysie had ever been shot at, but she took it withouta shiver. The chief officer begged her to go below at once. But sheonly shut her teeth tighter, and said:
"No, thanks, Mr Vernon, I'm going to have a hand in this. I'm the onlyone on deck just now that knows how to run a Maxim, and I can shoot asstraight with it as I can with my own little pepper-box; so if youjust let Mr Robertson come and see to the serving of the ammunition, Ithink we'll be able to give our Russian friends just about as good aswe get."
"Say, poppa," she went on, leaning over the front of the bridge, "Ireckon that shot broke the law of nations, didn't it? How would it beif you raised his bluff? Go him a few pounds of Vandelite better?"
"There's no hurry about that, Chrysie," said the president, who hadgot his gun loaded, and was squinting every now and then along thesights. "I guess he doesn't want to hit us; we've got too muchprecious cargo on board. You see, that was a seven-pound shell, and ifit got under our water-line--well, we'd just go right down. If ourfriends are on board, they just want to scare us into surrender,that's all; so I think it would be better for us to wait furtherdevelopments, and let Mr M'Niven get his work in on that shaft. I canmake scrap-iron out of the _Vlodoya_ just as soon as ever we wantto do it; so don't worry about that."
At this moment another puff of steamy smoke rose from the deck of theRussian yacht, and this time a shell came screaming away over the_Nadine's_ masts. Miss Chrysie shut her teeth a bit harder, and walkedtowards the Maxim on the port side, the one which she could at anytime have brought to bear on the _Vlodoya_. The chief officermeanwhile stood anxiously by the engine-room telegraph. It was alsohis first experience of being shot at. He was just as cool as MissChrysie or her father, but he didn't like it. He had the Englishman'snatural longing to be able to shoot back, but he recognised that,trying as it was, the president's strategy was the best. About tenmore minutes passed, during which the _Vlodoya_ drew up closer andcloser, until Chrysie, after a good look through her glasses, was ableto say:
"Why, yes; there's the count and Sophie on the bridge. Poppa, whydon't you let 'em have just one little hint that we're not quiteharmless?"
The last word had scarcely left her lips before another puff of steamysmoke rose from the fore-quarter of the Russian yacht, and a second orso after, a bright flash of flame blazed out, about fifty yards on theport side of the _Nadine_.
"That's a time shell," said Vernon. "They evidently mean business: Ifancy they could hit us if they liked. Don't you think, Mr Vandel,that we might slow round and give them one from that gun of yours?"
"No, sir," said the president, looking up from his gun: "not tillwe've the legs on her. When Mr M'Niven----"
At this moment the chief came up on to the bridge, black and grimedfrom head to foot.
"All right, Mr Vernon, you can go full steam ahead now. We've gotevery bit of grit out, and she'll work as easy as ever she did."
"Then," said the president, "I reckon that's about all that we want.Full steam ahead, if you please, Mr Vernon; you can let her go bothengines."
The chief officer pulled the telegraph handle over to full speed. Thenext moment two columns of boiling foam leapt out from under the_Nadine's_ counters as she sprang forward from eight knots to sixteen,and then to twenty. Almost at the same instant the Maxim-Nordenfeldtfrom the _Vlodoya_ forecastle spoke again, and a seven-pound shell,aimed low this time, came hurtling across the water, and missed the_Nadine's_ stern by about ten yards.
"I reckon that means business," said the president. "Full speed ahead,if you please, Mr Vernon, and hard aport."
The _Nadine_ made a splendid swerve through an arc of about a hundredand eighty degrees, and then began the naval duel, on the issue ofwhich the future course of human history was to depend.
The _Vlodoya_ fired three more shots in as many minutes, but they wentwide, for she was steaming nearly seventeen knots and the _Nadine_twenty. Then as the _Nadine_ swung round so that her bow pointedtowards the _Vlodoya_, the president signed to the two men who wereworking the gun, a wheel was whirled round, and the muzzle swungslowly until he put his hand up and said:
"Stop her, if you please, Mr Vernon, and screw her round as hard asyou can."
The engine telegraph rang, a sharp shudder ran thro
ugh the fabric ofthe _Nadine_, the water which had been swirling astern mounted upahead as her engines backed, and her bow came up, till the presidentraised his hand again to stop her. At the same moment another shellfrom the _Vlodoya_ whistled over the deck at an elevation of only afew feet. In fact, it passed so near to Miss Chrysie that sheinvoluntarily put her hand up to keep her hat on her head. CliffordVandel saw it. He didn't say anything, but he set his teeth, squintedalong the sights of his gun, and touched a button in the breech. Fiveseconds later a mountain of boiling foam rose up under the stern ofthe _Vlodoya_. She stopped like a stricken animal, and lay motionlesson the water, lurching slowly down by the stern.
"Well hit, poppa!" cried Miss Chrysie, from the bridge. "I guessthat's got him on a tender spot. The count won't have much screws towork with after that. Oh, they're going to shoot again. Suppose yougave them one forward this time."
While she was speaking, the quick-firer had already been reloaded, thepresident moved the long barrel a couple of degrees, and touched thebutton again. The sharp hiss of the released air was followed by anintensely brilliant flash of light on the forecastle of the _Vlodoya_,and when the smoke had cleared away the Maxim-Nordenfeldt hadvanished.
"I guess there's not much wrong with that automatic sightingarrangement of mine," said the president; "hits every time."
"Couldn't be better, poppa! I reckon they're pretty tired by this.Suppose Mr Vernon gives her full speed again, and we go along and havea talk with Ma'm'selle Sophie and the count. Shouldn't wonder if theyknew by now that we've raised their bluff, and are ready to see themfor all they've got."
The president re-charged his gun, and then, leaning his back upagainst the bridge, said:
"Well, yes, Chrysie, I think we can see them now, if Mr Vernon willgive us full speed ahead for a few minutes."
The chief officer nodded, and pulled the handle of the telegraph over.The answering tinkle came back from the engine-room, in which thechief had retired after he had given his message, and the _Nadine_again sprang forward towards the crippled vessel that was now herprey. She described another magnificent curve, and as she rushed upalongside the Russian yacht at a distance of about two hundred yards,Miss Chrysie sat herself down on a camp-stool behind the Maxim, andsent half-a-dozen shots rattling through the rigging of the _Vlodoya_.Then, as the _Nadine_ swung in closer, she depressed the barrel of thegun on to the bridge, on which she could now recognise the count andhis daughter, and sang out, in a clear soprano:
"Hands up, please, or I'll shoot. My dear Countess Sophie, I neverexpected this of you."
Countess Sophie looked at her father, and bit a Russian curse in twobetween her tightly-clenched teeth, and said to her father who wasstanding beside her on the bridge:
"She has failed--she and the engineer too--and these accursedAmericans have done it, I suppose. They have broken our propellers anddisabled our gun. What are we to do? It is exasperating, just when wethought that everything was going so well. What has happened toAdelaide?--has she turned traitor too? Surely that would beimpossible."
"Impossible or not, my dear Sophie," replied the count, "there is nowno choice between sinking and surrender. You see, that gun, one ofthese diabolical American inventions, I have no doubt, would sink uslike a shot, and then----"
"And then we shall have to surrender, I suppose," said Sophie. "But itis still possible that I shall have a chance to shoot that Americangirl before this little international comedy is played out, and if Ido----"
"Hands up, please, everyone on board, or I _will_ shoot this time,"came in clear tones across about fifty yards of water. Sophie lookedround and saw Miss Chrysie looking along the sights of the Maxim, withher hand on the spring. Her face was hard set, and her eyes wereburning. There was no mistaking her intention. In another moment astorm of bullets would be raining along the decks of the _Vlodoya_.
"We are beaten, papa, for the present," she said, as she got up fromher chair, and put her hands over her head. The count looked at thegrinning muzzle of the Maxim and did the same.
"Yes," he said, "we are beaten this time, and it is hardly good policyto be sunk in the middle of the Atlantic. Later on, perhaps, we mayretrieve something; but it is strange how these Anglo-Saxons, stupidand all as they are to begin with, always seem to get the best of usat the end. Yes; we must surrender or sink, and, personally, I have notaste for the bottom of the Atlantic at present.
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