CHAPTER XXIV.
THE AERO-HYDROPLANE.
"I want you men to promise me," said Captain Restronguet, addressing thesurvivors of the "Iticaba's" crew, who were drawn up in the submarinedeck--"I want you to give me your word of honour that on landing, and ina period of fourteen days from that time, you will make no mentionwhatsoever about the 'Aphrodite' being still capable of action. Mind, Ido not bind you down by conditions, threats, or intimidation of anysort. I would not insult a body of true-hearted British seamen by sodoing. I merely ask, in the interests of every vessel within range ofthe 'Vorwartz's' atrocities, that the presence of the 'Aphrodite' shouldnot be revealed."
The submarine was now within ten miles of Ras Nungwe, the northernmostpart of Zanzibar Island, and the "Iticaba's" people were about to besent ashore. They had, through their skipper, expressed their mostgrateful thanks for their gallant rescue in the nick of time, and inreplying Captain Restronguet had made this request with reference to the"Vorwartz."
"Strikes me very forcibly, sir," answered Captain Rees, "that you havemade a very difficult request. You see, there's bound to be an inquiryby the Consul, and a report will have to be sent to Lloyd's before theowners can recover the insurance. And without I make a clean breast ofit the Board of Trade will take away my ticket."
"By Jove, I hadn't thought of that!" exclaimed Captain Restronguet. "Asyou say, it is a very difficult point to take into consideration. Yetin an affair of this description, where so much depends upon the issue,the ordinary routine followed in cases of shipwreck ought to be putaside, at least for a few days."
"I could answer for my men," continued the old skipper, and a lustychorus of "Ay, ay," that had a ring of sincerity in it, came from thesurvivors of the ill-fated tramp. "But, you see, sir, it's a ticklishbusiness trying to bamboozle the Board."
"If I were to write a letter to the President of the Consular Court--no,I'll tell you what I'll do; I'll go myself," declared CaptainRestronguet. "Mr. Devoran, keep an offing, will you? I'm going ashorein the 'Iticaba's' boat; I'll hire some sort of craft to get back, sokeep a sharp look-out for me on the west side of Bawi Island, that'sover yonder. It is on the north side of the Western Pass, as theapproach of Zanzibar Town is called. Should any large craft come insight, don't hesitate to dive. We must preserve our secret at allcosts."
"Are you going alone, sir?" asked Hythe.
"I did think of so doing; but why? Would you like to accompany meashore?"
"I should, sir. You see, I know the place fairly well. Spent threemonths in the East Indies flagship in these waters when I was amidshipman."
The whaler was manned, Captain Restronguet, the skipper of the"Iticaba," and Hythe sitting in the stern sheets. There was no wind, sothe men had recourse to their oars, and a five mile pull under a blazingsun was no light task. Nevertheless, within an hour and a quarter ofleaving the "Aphrodite" the whaler ran alongside the landing-slips atZanzibar.
A crowd of Arabs, Zanzibaris, and negroes, with a sprinkling ofEuropeans, awaited the arrival of the boat, for since there was no largevessel lying outside the Western Pass, it was rightly conjectured thatthe men were survivors from some disaster.
Loyally the seamen maintained silence, and stolidly refused to bequestioned by several of the seamen from other ships that happened to belying in the roadstead, and in a body they marched to the BritishConsulate, where Captain Restronguet asked to be shown into the presenceof His Majesty's representative.
"What name, sir?" asked the stalwart sergeant of marines, who was incharge of the guard.
"That I wish to withhold," replied the Captain. "At the same time I amconvinced that the Consul will be more than willing to see me."
The sergeant demurred, but just then a dapper little man, whosesnow-white hair and closely trimmed grey beard contrasted vividly withhis brick-red complexion, came across the courtyard.
"What's this? Shipwrecked men?" he asked, scanning the somewhatdishevelled crowd of seamen, some of whom bore traces of hard knocksreceived in the struggle with the Somalis.
"These men are," replied Captain Restronguet. "I have not had thatmisfortune. Neither has my friend here. At the same time I wish tomake an important communication to you in private."
"By all means," said the Consul. "This way. Simmons, will you pleasebring whisky and soda into the small study. I presume, gentlemen, youwould like a peg?"
"Now," he continued, as Captain Restronguet, Captain Rees, and Hythefollowed him into the room, "what can I do for you? Do you wish to makea statement on oath? If so, I must send for my secretary."
"The necessity for making a statement upon oath rests with you," repliedCaptain Restronguet. "Allow me to introduce myself as Captain JohnRestronguet, commanding the submarine 'Aphrodite,' which is now lyingoff the port."
The Consul stared at his informant for quite ten seconds, thenrecovering himself said stiffly, "This, sir, is neither the place noroccasion for a senseless joke."
"I agree with you."
"Then, why? The 'Aphrodite' was destroyed by that villain Karl vonHarburg in the Red Sea more than a week ago."
"On whose authority did you hear this, might I ask?"
"On the word--if word it can be called--of Karl von Harburg himself."
"The report was false. I am he whom I claim to be. This gentleman, Mr.Arnold Hythe, an officer of the Royal Navy, will corroborate mystatement."
"I am aware that Captain Arnold Hythe was in the 'Aphrodite,'" said theConsul, who was still unconvinced. He was an old Cambridge man, and assuch had both participated and had been the victim of more than oneelaborate hoax. Such episodes, utterly foolish as they appear to be,serve their purpose in after life. They impart a considerable amount ofshrewdness into the human mind.
"Can you offer me definite proof?" continued the Consul. "If so Ishould be delighted, since it is my opinion that the only vessel capableof meeting the 'Vorwartz' on anything like even terms was, or perhapsis, the 'Aphrodite.'"
Captain Restronguet bowed. "Sir, I feel honoured," he replied. "Butsince you cannot accept the word of a gentleman, I can offer no othersolution."
"It is part of my duty to investigate matters," said the Consulreprovingly. "If I remember rightly a photograph of Sub-LieutenantHythe appeared in the illustrated papers at the time he was supposed tohave been lost in Plymouth Sound. I cannot admit that the gentlemanresembles the portrait."
"Have you a Navy List, sir?" asked the sub, speaking for the first timeduring the interview.
The Consul walked across the room and took from a bureau a copy of thefamiliar blue paper-covered book, which he handed to the sub.
"The 'Topaze' is in the roadstead," said Hythe, as he rapidly turnedover the pages. "Ah, here we are. Commander the Hon. C. L. Sedgwyke, Iknow him, but I'm afraid he doesn't know me. LieutenantTotterbull--h'm, yes, he might. But here's Dewerstone, he was in myterm at Dartmouth. Would you mind if he were sent for, sir?"
"Certainly not. I will have a signal made at once," replied the Consul.
"You wouldn't mind, sir," continued the sub, addressing CaptainRestronguet. "Dewerstone is a fellow to be trusted. He wouldn't say aword to anyone outside."
Accordingly a signal was made from the roof of the Consulate, andSub-Lieutenant Dewerstone was informed by his captain that his presencewas required ashore. The young man did not feel particularly joyful atthe intelligence. He had already obtained permission to go to a tennisparty, and having to attend on Consular Service did not appeal to him.Nevertheless, as soon as a boat could take him off, Dewerstone wasready.
"Good afternoon, Dick," exclaimed Hythe as soon as the sub from the"Topaze" had paid his respects to the Consul.
"Well, Hythe, where did you roll up from?" asked Dewerstonenonchalantly. "I thought you were in Davy Jones's locker."
"I am not," said Hythe earnestly. "Perhaps you would not mind provingmy identity to His Britannic Majesty's Consul.
"
"Considering we were in the semi-final for the heavyweight and youknocked me out I think I can safely do that," replied Dewerstone.
"We need not go further, gentlemen," announced the Consul. "I mustapologize for not accepting your word, Captain Restronguet. Now what doyou wish me to do?"
As briefly as he could Captain Restronguet explained the circumstancesunder which he rescued the survivors of the "Iticaba," and the reasonwhy he wished salient facts in connection with the affair to betemporarily suppressed.
"I think it can be arranged," said the Consul. "At all events, I willtake down the depositions of Captain Rees, and omit any details Iconsider necessary."
As soon as this was done Captain Rees took his departure.
His men had already been quartered in the Consulate, where they were toremain until they could be sent back to Liverpool.
"You will dine with me, gentlemen?" asked the Consul of CaptainRestronguet and the two subs. "There is no immediate hurry for you toget back?"
"I must get a boat before four o'clock," replied Captain Restronguet."So I must ask to be excused."
Hythe was also unable to accept, while Dewerstone, still intent upon thetennis party, managed to find a reason for declining the stiff formalityof dinner at the Consulate.
During their stay at Zanzibar Captain Restronguet and his companionsvisited the old town, but finding it remarkable for its malodorousnature, they beat a hasty retreat and went for a stroll inland. Beforethey returned it came on to blow fairly hard from the sou'west, and bythe time they reached the landing-place it was pretty evident that aboat could not put off without great risk.
In vain Captain Restronguet offered the native boatmen a large sum to berowed off beyond Bawi Island. He even tried to charter a dhow, butwithout success.
"We could ask the Consul to communicate with the 'Topaze' or any of thecruisers and gunboats in the roadstead; they would send a piquet-boatfor us," suggested Hythe.
Captain Restronguet shook his head.
"Not if it can be avoided," he answered. "I have reasons for notfalling in with your plan. We will see if we can get better luck atShangani Point. The water ought to be smoother there."
Accordingly both men set off as briskly as they could in the moist,enervating heat, but before they had passed the Sultan's palace a short,sparsely-built man in European clothing overtook them. Twice the manlooked over his shoulder at Captain Restronguet, then suddenly wheelinghe intercepted him and held out his hand.
"What ho, there, Tretheway! Whoever would have thought of meeting youin this dead and alive corner of the globe?"
Hythe naturally thought it was a case of mistaken identity on the partof the little fellow, but to his surprise Captain Restronguet replied ina cordial manner.
"Bless my soul! It's Jenkins. What are you doing here?"
"It is," assented that worthy. "I've been knocking about a bit since Ilast worked--I mean, slaved--with you in a British dockyard. Fallen onmy feet at last though, that is, unless I fall on my precious skull.Just fancy, Tretheway, I am aeroplanist-in-chief to His Highness theSultan of Zanzibar."
"Better you than me," remarked the Captain with a laugh. "But I wasunaware that the Sultan was a devotee of the art of flying."
"He is, and he isn't," replied Jenkins. "He owns a good many air craftsof various types, and I and several others, mostly Frenchmen, by the by,give exhibition flights while he sits in his state chair and watches us.But how goes it? You look jolly fit, and don't appear as if you werehard up for a dollar?"
"No, I cannot complain on that score," said Captain Restronguet quietly.
"Well, come and have a look at my little air-fleet. Really they don'tmake a bad show. And your friend, of course."
"Sorry," replied Captain Restronguet. "But we're in a regular hurry. Iam trying to get a boat to put me off."
"Where to?" asked Jenkins. "One of the liners in the Roads?"
"No, further out; quite five miles off."
"Guess you won't get a Zanzibari to take on the job. There's a brute ofa swell tumbling in. Look here, I'll tell you what: I'll give you a liftin one of our aero-hydroplanes, if you like."
"Is it safe?" asked Captain Restronguet earnestly, whereat Hythewondered, for his companion had never before shown signs of timidity,even when in tight corners in the depths of the sea.
"Safe as a house," replied Jenkins reassuringly.
"Jenkins, my friend, you misunderstand me, although I quite admit thequestion was ambiguous. Is it safe--or shall we say discreet?--to takeus for a 'joy-ride' in one of the Sultan's air-craft?"
"If anything His Highness would be pleased to see me making a flight ingusty weather with two passengers; so say the word and I'll trot out thecontraption. It's the only way."
"Carry on, then," assented Captain Restronguet.
Within the spacious outer courtyard of the palace stood a number oflofty sheds with sliding doors. At a wave and a gesture from the chiefaviator a number of natives opened the doors and dragged a hugeaero-hydroplane of an obsolete pattern into the sunlight. The machinewas a biplane. Underneath the two long floats were four wheels, so thatit could be adapted either for alighting and rising from the sea orland.
Jenkins critically examined various nuts and tension wires, started theengine, till the machine was all a-quiver with the vibration from therevolving cylinders.
"All correct," he bawled, for the rapid explosion of the motorpractically deadened every other sound. "Get aboard."
Captain Restronguet occupied a seat immediately behind and slightlyhigher than the pilot, while Hythe sat behind the biplane. Jenkinsvaulted agilely into his place, motioned to the attendants to standclear and thrust home the clutch of the propeller shaft.
The aero-hydro-craft leapt over the ground for about twenty yards with ajerk that nearly capsized the two passengers; then soaring upwards itcleared the courtyard wall by barely six feet, passed over the upturnedfaces of a crowd of natives in the roadway, and shot rapidly across theharbour.
The motion was exhilarating, but the air, by contrast with the heatashore, was cold and cutting to the faces of the passengers. Hytherealized that aeroplaning in white ducks, even in the Tropics, wasrather out of place.
"Look, sir," he exclaimed. "There's the 'Topaze' going out."
"That's rotten luck," replied Captain Restronguet leaning sideways towatch the cruiser, that, a thousand feet below, looked no larger than amodel boat. "Your friend Dewerstone has given the show away."
"I think not," replied the sub confidently. "He told me he was on leavetill the day after to-morrow."
"Where's your ship, Tretheway?" shouted Jenkins.
"Away beyond Bawi Island. There she is."
"Rum looking craft, anyway," commented the aviator. "Looks more like adog's kennel to me."
"Thanks," remarked Captain Restronguet in an undertone; then louder headded, "She's hove-to. If you come down within hailing distance they'llrange up alongside to pick us up; they haven't a boat."
"Haven't a boat," ejaculated Jenkins. "Rum craft. Look here----"
He ended abruptly, for with a report like a pistol shot one of the wiressupporting the wing plane snapped. The aero-hydroplane began to tiltominously. Hythe and his companion instinctively realizing that adisaster was imminent grasped the rods nearest to hand in a grip ofiron.
Pluckily the aviator strove by manipulating the elevating rudder torestore the doomed aircraft's equilibrium, but in vain. He, therefore,shut off the engine and attempted a vol-plane. Already the air-craftwas standing almost on its nose, and falling with fearful velocity, tillCaptain Restronguet slid out of his seat and was prevented from fallingclear only by his grasp upon a metal rod.
Finding that the machine was quite out of control, Jenkins touched alever with his foot. Instantly a length of stout canvas trailed outastern. Before the aero-hydroplane had descended another fifteen feetthe canvas, distended by the resistance of the air, took the shape of a
huge parachute. The fall, though still rapid, was appreciably retarded,while the three men, literally hanging on tooth and nail, became awarethat hope was not yet dead.
With a tremendous splash the wrecked aero-hydroplane struck the water.Hythe found himself torn from his support, and plunging feet below thewaves. Fearing that he might be entangled in the sinking machine hestruck out and swam a considerable distance ere he rose to the surface.
Shaking the water out of his eyes, he looked around. Theaero-hydroplane was still floating, but with a heavy list. Theconcussion had burst the seams of one of her floats, which was nowcompletely filled with water, while the other was leaking slightly.Clinging to the still buoyant float were the captain and Jenkins. The"Aphrodite" was nowhere to be seen.
"We're all right for the present," called out the former cheerily. "Thewater's warm and I have not seen any sharks about, and the cruiser willbear down and pick us up."
"Where's your ship, Tretheway?" asked the aviator anxiously. "We werefalling close to where she was hove-to."
"I'm rather afraid she didn't spot us," replied Captain Restronguet."And seeing the 'Topaze' approaching, she dived."
"Dived!" exclaimed the astounded Jenkins. "What d'ye mean? You don'tmean to tell me the ship you belong to is a submarine?"
"It is," assented the Captain coolly.
"Not that rascally 'Vorwartz' by any chance?"
"No."
"Well, then, what's her name? I haven't heard of any other submarine inthese waters."
"Not the 'Aphrodite'?"
"Don't try to be funny, Tretheway. You know as well as I do that thatsubmarine was blown to atoms."
"I am afraid, my dear Jenkins, that I cannot agree with you. The'Aphrodite' is even now submerged in the Zanzibar Channel, and I--whomyou know as Hugh Tretheway--I am Captain John Restronguet."
The Rival Submarines Page 24
