CHAPTER XII
Investigations
ON the following night, as soon as the bugles sounded "Lights out",Hamerton returned to his labours. Barricading the door and wrenchingup the loosened slabs of stone, he descended beneath the floor,wriggled through the hole in the parting wall with comparative ease,and with renewed energy began to prise away at the stubborn cement.At about every quarter of an hour he would seize the projecting stoneand shake it violently. Perhaps he had become hardened to the work,for he imagined that the cement was not so hard or tenacious as ithad been when he began operations. "The cement is cracking,"signalled Detroit, who for the last two hours had been lying at fulllength on the floor feeling for the first decisive tremor of thepaving stone.
Then Hamerton had an inspiration. He knew that the stone waswedge-shaped; perhaps by pressing upwards against it he might forceit out of position.
Crouching immediately under the projecting piece of masonry, heapplied his shoulder to the base of the wedge and exerted all hisstrength.
For a few seconds there appeared to be no result, then, almostwithout warning, the stone gave quite a couple of inches, till it wasflush with the adjoining slabs.
Detroit felt it rise. Desperately he wrenched at it with his barehands. Hamerton, rolling over on his back, pushed as hard as he couldwith his foot. The next instant he felt the American's sinewy fingersgrasping him by his toes.
"Chuck it, old man!" whispered the Sub. "That's my toes you've gothold of."
"Guess I don't care, so long as I've got hold of some part of you,"was the glad response. "Let's have your hand, then."
It did not take very long for the hole to be enlarged sufficiently toallow Hamerton to enter the American's cell. By a sheer piece of luckthe aperture bore the same relative position to the floor as did theone in the adjoining room. It was almost in the corner, where, in thedaytime, by contrast with the light filtering through the window, itwas almost dark.
For some considerable time the reunited comrades whispered in tense,excited tones, their conversation being the outcome of joy ratherthan the discussion of a definite plan of action. But by degrees theygrew calmer, and Detroit asked what the next move was to be.
"Get out of this show as soon as possible," announced Hamerton withdetermination.
"And then? We are not paladins; we cannot hope to overpower the wholegarrison. There are sentries at every few yards; every boat isguarded. We will have to remain hidden on this little rock tillhunger compels us to give ourselves up."
"We'll risk that. In almost every enterprise there is an element ofchance that oft leads to success. Once we break out of this placewe'll have a good look round. They've condemned me as a spy, and, byJove, I'll do a little espionage!"
"And I'll have a shot at it," added Detroit. "Who knows but that someday the United States Navy may be glad of certain informationconcerning this island."
"'Of course we may stumble upon a boat," continued Hamerton. "In thatcase we'll appropriate her without the slightest compunction, getunder way, and trust to luck to be picked up by a passing steamer. Afew miles either to the north or south, and we'll be right in theregular steamer tracks across the North Sea."
"But the searchlights?" objected Detroit. He was game enough for anyenterprise, but with natural caution he preferred to weigh up therisks.
"If we start just before dawn we need not worry about searchlights. Inoticed they ceased operations at 4 a.m. the other day. We ought tobe able to put five miles between us and the rock before it is lightenough for them to spot us."
"All right, then!" assented the American. "But we're not out of thewood yet. What's the next performance?"
"I'm off back to my cell. Take care to replace the stone carefullyand fill up the joints with dust. I'll leave you this little tool--Ican't let you have the handle, for, as you see, it's the leg of astool. If you feel particularly energetic, old man, you might startat the sockets of the window bars. You'll have to be very cautious.Do they march you out for exercise?"
"Every day. Why?"
"I have an hour of it also. Thus I was able to take stock of thebuilding. Your window is directly above a flight of steps; mine issome distance clear of it. Consequently your window is the moreconvenient one for us to tackle."
"I'll have a slog at it."
"Good! Well, I'm off. Au revoir till to-morrow night!"
The next day passed in a most tedious fashion. Hamerton was on thornsmore than once, for in his heated imagination he fancied that hisjailers purposely prolonged their visits to his cell.
"To-morrow," announced Hans, "you will roll up your blankets. Cleanones will be served out. You will also have to scrub your floor,because the governor of the prison and the medical officers are goingto make an inspection."
This was disconcerting news. It was a case of to-night or not at all,for it was quite evident that should the two comrades not succeed inmaking their escape before the morrow, the visiting authorities wouldbe almost certain to discover the displaced stones in the floor.
Accordingly the Sub continued his preparations. In spite of hishearty appetite he set aside one-half of his day's rations, since itwas doubtful whether he would be able to obtain food outside.
Evening came with a furious easterly gale. The wind howled, heavydrops of rain fell in torrents and beat in at the open window, forduring the summer months the glass was regularly removed from all theprison cells.
Hamerton welcomed the storm. It was an asset in their favour,although for the time being it was useless to expect to be able toget away from the island in a boat.
"How are you getting on?" he asked, as he crawled into Detroit'scell.
"Guess I've just about shifted those bars," was the American's reply."The cement was rotten."
"It's too early to make the attempt yet," said the Sub.
"Rather," agreed Detroit; "besides, we haven't made the ropes yet.Bear a hand with this blanket; we'll soon manage that, I think."
"Pretty tough stuff," commented Hamerton, as the property of theGerman Government was remorselessly torn into strips. "All the sameI'd rather have a good piece of manila or three-strand hawserlaidtarred rope. Even a sheet would make a better rope."
In spite of his objections Hamerton tackled the task with energy, andas a result of their joint labours the comrades had the satisfactionof being in possession of thirty feet of apparently serviceable rope.
"Time!" whispered the Sub laconically.
Five minutes sufficed to complete the removal of the bars. Hamerton,having made one end of the rope fast to the bed frame, clambered upthe ledge, and listened intently. Not a sound was audible above thehowling of the wind and the hissing of the rain. The Heligolandsearchlights were not running, but from Sandinsel four powerful beamswere swaying across the cloudy sky like gigantic inverted pendulums.
"All clear!" he whispered.
Detroit handed up the coiled rope. The Sub was about to drop it intothe black vault beneath him, when he saw the glimmer of a lantern onthe rainswept pavement below. Crouching on his narrow perch the Subwaited. The rays of the lantern reflected in the puddles of thecourtyard; it glinted upon naked steel and upon the brass helmets ofa file of soldiers.
"What's up?" whispered Detroit, unaware of the reason of the delay.
"Hist!" exclaimed Hamerton, not trusting himself to say more.
Straight towards the staircase came the men. The Sub felt his headthrobbing violently. They were more than likely sent to escort thealleged spies to another place of detention.
With a dull crash the butts of a dozen rifles struck the stonepavement as the men halted and grounded arms. With bent shoulders, ina vain attempt to shelter themselves from the rain, the soldierswaited while the sergeant, lantern in hand, ascended the steps,followed by an enormous bloodhound.
Hamerton durst not crane his neck to see what went on almostunderneath the window. He could distinguish Hans's voice replying tothe sergeant's questions, but the din of the storm prevented thelistener
from understanding the nature of the conversation.
Then, after what seemed to be an age of terrible suspense, the Subsaw the sergeant return to his men. The soldiers recovered theirarms, faced about, and marched towards the outer gateway. The lightvanished, and the tramp of their feet was soon lost in the moaning ofthe wind.
Hamerton waited no longer; at any moment the jailers might intrude.Noiselessly he allowed the coil of blanket-rope to drop into space,then, grasping one of the bars which still remained, he assistedDetroit to clamber up beside him.
"You go first," he whispered. "You're lighter than I am. If the ropeshould break when I descend, don't wait, but clear out."
"I won't," replied Detroit. "We'll stand by each other at all costs.Well, here goes!"
The next moment he was lost to sight. Hamerton could feel the ropestretching and jerking under the strain of the descending man'sweight. Presently the tension ceased. The American had reached thesteps beneath the window.
Without hesitation Hamerton followed. He realized that should thesoft fabric give way a fall of about ten feet, followed by a headlongtumble down the stone steps, would be the inevitable result, and to aman weighing close on fifteen stone that was far from pleasant tocontemplate.
But the rope stood the strain, and with a muffled exclamation ofthankfulness Hamerton felt his feet touched one of the stone steps.
"Heave away!" he whispered, placing the rope in Detroit's hands.Both men pulled their hardest. The blanket rope parted, leaving aboutten feet of it in their possession. Then the American saw hiscompanion do a strange act. Hamerton drew a packet from his pocket,and, holding his nose tightly with his left hand, scattered somethingon the ground. It was as much as Detroit could do to restrain hiscuriosity.
The outer wall with its array of spikes presented little difficulty.Detroit clambered on to Hamerton's shoulder, grasped one of therevolving rods, and passed the bight of the rope around it. By thismeans he was able to draw himself up and crouch astride of theobstacle until Hamerton swarmed up beside him. The drop on the otherside was a more nerve-racking ordeal, for neither of the fugitivesknew what was beneath them. Fortunately it was a vegetable gardenbelonging to one of the jailers, and the soft earth effectuallyneutralized the otherwise nasty jar of a twelve-foot drop.
Once again Hamerton stopped to scatter something from the packet.Detroit recognized it now. It was pepper. It nearly made him sneeze.Then he realized what his companion was about. Hamerton meant tobaffle the bloodhounds that were kept on the island for the purposeof assisting the sentries in arresting all suspicious characters andmaintaining the jealously guarded secrets of the island fortress.
"Now, which way?" whispered Detroit. "To the Unterland?"
"Rather not," replied the Sub. "It's too well guarded. We'll strikeinland and make good use of our liberty until the alarm is raised."
Guided by the chain of searchlights, which were now in full swing,Hamerton and his companion set off in a north-westerly direction.Once clear of the buildings they felt the force of the wind, whichhad now backed to the north-west. It was a struggle for them to keeptheir feet. Every now and again a vicious blast would bring them up"all standing", as Hamerton would have described it in naval parlance.As for the rain, it was too torrential to aid their flight, for atany moment they might blunder upon the sentries, since they could seebarely twenty yards ahead, and that only very indistinctly.
Away on the right a wind motor, perched on a cast-iron tower, addedto the din. It was one of several used for generating electriccurrent for the searchlights, and could, if necessary, be loweredinto a concrete-lined pit, so as to be out of reach of a hostilefire.
Hamerton pushed forward, counting the number of the steps he took. Atthe sixty-first he stopped abruptly and threw himself flat upon thegrass, an example that Detroit promptly imitated.
Just in front of them was a high barbed-wire fence. On thefurthermost side a sentry was standing, his hands resting on themuzzle of his rifle and his head bowed till the brim of hisflat-topped cap touched his fixed bayonet.
For nearly five minutes the man remained in this position, thoughfortunately his face was turned slightly away from the two recumbentfigures on the ground. Then, sloping his rifle, the sentry facedabout and stolidly marched away, following the direction of thefence.
"There must be some object in posting a sentry so far from the roadand away from the cliff," thought Hamerton. "I'll investigate."
With that he rose to his feet, grasped the lowermost of the barbedwires, and held it up as high as the tension would allow. Thequick-witted American understood, and, throwing himself flat on theground, crawled under the formidable fence. In turn he performed alike service for the Sub, and the two adventurers found themselveswithin an entanglement out of which they could not easily escapeshould their presence be detected by any of the sentries.
While negotiating the fence Hamerton noticed one remarkable thing:the standards supporting the spiked wires were set in hinged sockets.Also, about five feet from the fence lay several half-rounded piecesof metal, each about ten feet in length.
"They are in the habit of lowering the fence for something," said theSub to himself. "These sections are to place over the wire when it islying on the ground. Seems as if they take rather fragile objectsinto the enclosure; which, I wonder?"
"Steady on!" cautioned Detroit. "Here's something."
The something proved to be the stone facing of a steep incline cutinto the earth. The investigators had the choice of two routes,either to bear away to the left and follow the natural terrain, ortake the right-hand direction and descend the incline. They chose thelatter.
The shelving ground was slippery with rain. Close to the concretewall was a small channel through which the surface water poured in aminiature torrent. Extreme caution was necessary, since at any momentthe two comrades might find themselves precipitated over the edge ofa pitfall.
"Come this way," said Hamerton in a low voice. "I want to find outthe width of this incline." And setting off at right angles to hisprevious direction he began to measure the distance. At the eightiethpace--equal to one hundred and twenty feet--the adventurers foundthemselves confronted by a wall similar to the one on the other sideof the incline. They had stumbled upon a broad way, leading they knewnot whither or for what purpose.
"Keep to this side," continued Hamerton. "It's more sheltered."
"Better not," objected Detroit. "If there are any people about theywill naturally choose the lee side of this wall. We can't get muchwetter, and we stand a better chance over there."
"Right!" assented the Sub. He was not above paying good heed to theAmerican's sagacity.
Accordingly they retraced their steps to the left wall of the inclineand then resumed the downward direction. Higher and higher grew thewall, till it was lost to sight in the darkness. It seemed as if theywere descending into the bowels of the earth. Presently both meninvoluntarily paused. Through the rain-laden atmosphere came a redglare. It only lasted a few seconds and then disappeared.
"A furnace," whispered Hamerton. "Luckily it was not on our side. Ha!what's that?" His feet came into contact with the metal rail of anarrow-gauge tram line, emerging from a cave-like chamber in the walland running athwart the incline. Further investigations revealed thepresence of a siding on which were several trucks laden with coal.The trucks had been filled by means of a number of shoots. Close by,under a lean-to shed, were nearly a hundred barrels, some empty andlying in disorder, and others filled and stacked in tiers.
Even as Hamerton and his companion were making this discovery an arclamp above their heads was switched on, flooding the ground with itspowerful light. Simultaneously the door of the subterranean store wasthrown open and a row of trollies, propelled by an electric motor,emerged from a tunnel that had hitherto escaped their notice.
To stay where they were meant detection. Flight was equallydangerous, since they would have to cross the brilliantly lightedground. By a common impulse the Sub and his comrade
vaulted into twoupturned barrels.
They were just in time. The trucks came to a standstill almostopposite their place of concealment, and a squad of men, dressed inengineers' uniform, began to fill the tilt-wagons. This they did bythe aid of small electric cranes. Rapidly the heads of the requisitenumber of barrels were stove in, and the casks, raised by means ofcliphooks attached to the wire ropes of the cranes, were emptied intothe waiting trucks.
Hamerton could overhear the sergeant in charge of the party grumblingabout the weather.
"Be careful, men," he cautioned; "if the moisture gets to the alumthere will be a row. Now, sharp with the trucks, or Herr Captain willbe in a rage. 'Z 21' must be filled before daylight. Hurry up, Isay."
Away rumbled the trucks, the men either clambering upon them orreturning to the subterranean room from which they had emerged. Thearc lamp was switched off and all was dark once more.
Then the blaze of red light reappeared. Hamerton understood. This wasthe hydrogen factory where the gas for filling the Zeppelins wasmanufactured. He remembered that woollen or linen fabrics saturatedin a solution of alum become practically non-inflammable. There werethe men shovelling lumps of alum into one of the retorts.
"I have it," he muttered triumphantly. "They have discovered aprocess of making hydrogen practically non-explosive. By Jove! I wishI could wrench the secret from them. However, it's a step in theright direction."
Noiselessly the pair emerged from their place of concealment. Detroitwas curious to know the nature of the conversation, but for thepresent it was extremely hazardous to speak. He had, however, madethe discovery of the former contents of the barrel in which he washidden, for happening to put his finger to his lips the unpleasanttaste of alum asserted itself.
Stepping cautiously over the tram lines, since one of them might be a"live rail", Hamerton and Detroit resumed their down-grade journeytill they had traversed nearly a quarter of a mile of the incline.
"I believe we've tumbled upon the approach to a submarine tunnel toSandinsel," whispered Detroit.
"Much too wide for that," replied the Sub, "unless, of course, thereis a subsidiary tunnel. But, look, we are getting to the end. There'srock ahead of us."
The incline terminated in a large circular basin roughly two hundredyards in diameter. Opening out of it were three lofty artificialcaves, hewn out of the sandstone. This much Hamerton was able toobserve in a momentary burst of starlight through a rift in theswiftly-moving clouds.
"Come on," he said. "We're in luck's way. There's no one about.Follow the cliff; I'm curious to see what is in these caves."
The first cavern was apparently empty. The floor was paved with slabsof cement, the walls were of glared brick. Close to the mouth was alittle hut, the door of which was locked; but judging by the numberof insulated wires running from it the Sub concluded it was theoperating station for lighting the vast recess.
The second cave, its entrance being almost at an angle of ninetydegrees with the first, was tenanted. Both men recognized in thesnub-nosed object projecting far above their heads the bow of amilitary Zeppelin.
Hamerton could have danced with sheer delight. He had discovered whatwas supposed to be the shell-proof lair of three powerful airships.Deep in the bowels of the earth they were immune from hostile shell.A high-angled fire might result in a projectile dropping into thevast circular pit, but the possibility of the aircraft being damagedby fragments of shells was guarded against by the provision ofmassive steel doors sliding on rollers.
Evidently the Zeppelins were being made ready for a flight, for thedoors were wide open. In the third cavern lights burned at thefarthermost end, and a party of officers and men were busily engagedin overhauling the after-car.
"Seen enough?" asked Detroit. "Let's quit."
"Suppose we must," replied Hamerton reluctantly. "It must be close ondawn, and we'll have to find a place to stow ourselves away."
"I say," began the American.
"Well?"
"That airship facing the incline can come out of its dogbox allright, but I don't see how the others can be turned. There can't bemore than a few feet between their extremities and the cliff whenthey are hauled out."
"They can be guided round by ropes."
"Hardly. The faintest bump would do no end of damage."
"I wish the whole crowd of them would meet with no end of damage,"said the Sub vengefully. "But come on, we mustn't hang about heretill morning. I heard those fellows say that one of the airships wasto be made ready by daybreak."
"One minute; I guess I'd like to look around over there," saidDetroit, pointing to the centre of the circular bed of the pit. Sosaying, he made his way cautiously from the shelter of the cliff, andHamerton, guessing that his comrade was on the verge of a newdiscovery, followed.
For the first ten yards the floor was literally covered with anetwork of tram lines. There were treble parallel tracks, points, andsidings galore. It reminded the Sub of a miniature Clapham junction.
Presently Detroit stopped abruptly.
"I thought so," he announced. "We've hit the edge of a giganticturntable. This is how they slew round their blessed Zeppelins."
The floor of the turntable was almost as smooth and level as abilliard table. There was not a single projection that would form theslightest hindrance to its intended burden. Almost in the centre werea couple of flat trapdoors for the purpose of gaining access to themachinery underneath, but the actual moving of the turntable wascontrolled by means of electric switches from a cabin close to thewall of the basin.
"Say, why not hide down there?" suggested Detroit, pointing to one ofthe trapdoors.
"Good idea!" assented Hamerton. "I don't suppose anyone goes downexcept to oil the machinery. The place looks large enough to hide adozen people quite comfortably. Besides, we might be able to seesomething by daylight. Give me a hand with this lid."
Luckily the traphatch was not locked. The authorities regardedthemselves as being immune from the inquisitiveness of intruders andthe mischievousness of small boys.
Detroit descended first by means of a vertical iron ladder. Hamertonfollowed, and was in the act of reclosing the lid of the aperturewhen the whole of the Zeppelin sheds and approaches were illuminatedby arc lamps fixed from brackets to the side of the cliff.
And right in the centre of that blaze of light, his head andshoulders showing conspicuously above the level of the turntable,Hamerton remained as if rooted to the spot. The sudden glaretemporarily blinded him. He felt incapable of moving hand or foot.
The Sea-girt Fortress: A Story of Heligoland Page 12
