Frank Forester: A Story of the Dardanelles

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XVI

  TWO MEN IN A LAUNCH

  In the confusion ensuing upon the fall of the gun Frank crept unseen upthe gully. He chuckled as he heard the infuriate curses of the Germanofficer. The cause of the disaster would never be known. Whether itwere ascribed to the carelessness of the men or to the accidentalslipping of a ring mattered nothing: the gun was lying at a spot whenceit would be almost impossible to remove it; very likely it was damagedbeyond repair. Frank's satisfaction was only alloyed by regret that toattempt the same feat with the other guns of the battery was out of thequestion.

  "Now what's to be done?" he thought, when, having put a considerabledistance between himself and any risk of danger, he stopped to thinkover his position. One result of the establishment of the battery onthe heights must be his abandonment of the sepulchre. Whatever might bethe reason for placing the battery just there, if the guns began to playthey would draw upon them the shells of the British fleet, and thesepulchre was near enough to be anything but a safe asylum. The troopspursuing him were not far to the north. With no permanent refuge hecould not hope to evade them much longer. Sari Bair was becoming toohot to hold him. He must move on.

  But in what direction? No part of the peninsula was any longer safe.To go southwards was mere folly: he would only come to the forts, aboutwhich there was no doubt a strong concentration of troops. And that waythere was no outlet but the sea. Northwards, where the peninsula waswider, there would be more room to move; but after what had happened hewould be watched for at every little farm, on all the roads, and if hewere not actually captured, lack of food would ultimately enforce hissurrender. "What an ass I was not to make for the harbour at Gallipolithat night," he thought, "and try to smuggle myself on Kopri's vessel!"But repentance had come too late. Here he was, caged; nothing could nowalter that; and if he were caught in the end--well, these last few dayshad given him an amount of joyous excitement which he could neverforget. Even the reflection that he had now lost the privileges of acivilian, and would probably be shot at sight, did not much trouble him."Kismet!" he thought: "I must have breathed in the fatalistic spirit ofthe country."

  "But I'm not done yet," he added to himself. "It's Bulgaria now, Isuppose. I'd better get away first to the east, out of the way of thosefellows hunting me, and then work round as quickly as I can to thenorth-west. Lucky I stuffed my pockets pretty full of loaves; but it'squarter rations. I don't know when I'll be able to get more."

  The booming of guns to the south reminded him that fellow-countrymenwere only a few miles away--a galling remembrance. They could donothing for him. "Alone, alone, all, all alone!"--where had he readthose words, and how little he had understood till now what theymeant!--"Oh, chuck it, Frank Forester!" he said to himself. "It's nogood grousing. Come on!"

  He struck off across the shoulder of the hill, and made his way down thebed of a stream skirting the western side of Kojadere, and flowingalmost due south until with a sharp turn to the left it fell into theDardanelles a mile or so north of Maidos. For the greater part of thedistance it was close to a road, and Frank had to keep a carefullook-out. But the country was rugged and desolate: there were novillages and to all appearance no houses; only once did he catch sightof anything on the road--a bullock wagon lumbering slowly in theopposite direction.

  The ground was for the most part on a low level, and in order toascertain his distance from the coast he turned off to the left, wherethere were hills rising nearly two hundred feet. After a long andtiring climb he reached a cliff at the eastern extremity of the KalkmazDagh which, projecting a little into the sea, gave him a direct viewdownward into Maidos and the strait beyond. A Turkish warship lay justabove the Narrows; torpedo boats and vessels which, though he did notknow it, were mine-layers, were moored here and there; and crossing thechannel from Chanak was the motor launch, with its awning over thefore-deck, which he had noticed once or twice before. "Abdi's on theother side now," he thought.

  He watched the launch through his glasses as it threaded its way throughthe congestion of lighters and small cargo vessels lying off Maidos, toa jetty north of the town. A number of passengers came ashore. Thelaunch was tied up and the crew also landed--all but one man, who satdown in the stern and appeared to be eating his dinner. Frank almostunconsciously took out one of his loaves. "Didn't know I was sohungry," he muttered. He ate half the loaf, which was little largerthan a scone, put the remainder back, then took it out again for a finalmouthful. The man on the launch was still eating. Frank watched himenviously, and almost hated him when he saw him wrap up a portion of hismeal and stow it away. "He has too much and I too little," he thought."I daresay he'd sell what's left. Wish I could get at him!"

  This started a train of thought, or rather a series of questions. Whynot go down to the launch? Why not make use of his military uniform?What chance was there that the man on the launch had heard that anEnglish fugitive was masquerading as a Turkish officer of artillery?Indeed, why not bluff it out, get command of the launch, and run downthe strait towards the open sea? British warships were there. Was heprepared to face a twofold risk--run the gauntlet of Turkish vessels andbatteries, and also draw fire from a British ship?

  It was a ticklish problem, that would not wait long for a solution. Atany moment the launch might be ordered off. If the attempt was to bemade, it must be made at once. "Too risky," he thought. "I might bespotted before I reached it. It's nearly a mile away: might be gone bythe time I could get down. It's absurd."

  Sunk in this pessimism he sat with his chin on his hand, looking at thelaunch, on which the man now lay stretched on his back, gazing down thestrait towards Kilid Bahr, where the shore bent round to the west, andbeyond which there were British vessels. It was only four or five milesto Kilid Bahr; in the clear air the distance seemed shorter. He thoughtof the alternative--further hide-and-seek in the hills, long wanderings,semi-starvation, cold. "Hanged if I don't have a shot," he said tohimself.

  Below him ran the road from Boghali through Maidos, at the edge of thestrait. There was no other way of reaching the launch unless he made along detour round the hills. The afternoon was already far advanced. Adetour would take much time, and taking it he would lose sight of thelaunch. On the road, so far as he could see it, there was no traffic.He rose to his feet, made his way down the hillside, gained the road,and set off quickly southward.

  In a few minutes, rounding a corner, he overtook a transport wagon drawnby two oxen. It flashed upon him that he would attract less attentionif he got a lift on it. Stepping up to the front of the wagon, he hailedthe driver.

  "Give me a lift," he said. "I've walked from Sari Bair, where we areplacing a battery. It's very tiring, walking over the hills."

  "That is true, effendim," said the man. "Your excellency may do as hepleases."

  Frank got up beside the driver. The wagon lumbered on. As it nearedMaidos it passed people here and there; they saluted the supposedofficer without suspicion. It passed a house ruined by a shell.

  "They said the English were our friends," remarked the wagoner.

  "Time will show who are our true friends," answered Frank.

  They were now entering the northern outskirts of the town. Frank sawmany signs of the havoc wrought by indirect fire from the British fleet.In the distance soldiers were moving about. He thought it time to getdown. Tipping the driver, he jumped to the ground, and turned off tothe left towards the jetty. The launch was still tied up: he could justsee its awning.

  When he was still some little distance from it he had a shock. From theopposite direction, and nearer to the jetty than himself, a Turkishofficer was approaching it. He was bound to get there first. For amoment Frank thought of turning tail; he had not yet been observed; butit occurred to him that the officer might possibly come back in a fewminutes: it was worth while waiting to see.

  Near at hand was a deep hole in the ground, the work of a s
hell. Besideit was a broken transport wagon. He sat on this, took a cigarette fromthe case which, with an automatic lighter, he had found in the pocket ofthe great-coat, and began smoking like any idler. A shed at the shoreend of the jetty partly hid him from view.

  The officer went on board the launch. Frank had a second shock. It wasthe Kurd Abdi. Apparently he had not been to Chanak after all. Perhapshe had deferred his departure for the sake of making one more attempt tocapture the fugitive. It was plain that he was intending to cross thestrait now, for the man in charge of the launch was making preparationsto start.

  Frank was as it were paralysed for a few moments. The game was up. Butno: while the man was pouring petrol into the tank, Abdi had goneforward and was making himself comfortable under the awning forward.There was just a chance for boldness. Making up his mind instantly,Frank strolled unconcernedly down the jetty. The launch man was bendingover his engine; beyond him Abdi was half concealed by the awning.

  Frank halted a few yards from the launch, where his face could not beseen by the Kurd, and hailed the engine man in a low tone. The manlooked up, and Frank beckoned him ashore. He hesitated a moment; thenthe officer's uniform was effective: he jumped on to the jetty and cameto Frank's side. With a show of mystery Frank led him a few yards andsaid:

  "His excellency is crossing to Chanak."

  "The Governor?" asked the man.

  "Yes: you are ordered to wait. Not a word to any one. Go at once toheadquarters and ask for Major Ahmed Talik. There will be a valise tocarry down. You understand?--Major Ahmed Talik. It is not to be talkedabout. Make haste!"

  "But my passenger, effendim?"

  "He must wait. I will explain to him."

  "My orders! I am not to leave the launch."

  "Do you argue with me?" said Frank sternly. "Go at once."

  The man hastened to excuse himself, and set off, somewhat bewildered,towards the town.

  "Why keep me waiting, dog of a dog-son?" called Abdi from the launch.

  The man turned, but Frank signed to him imperatively to go on, thensauntered back along the jetty, one hand holding the cigarette, theother fingering the revolver in his pocket. Abdi had raised himselffrom his recumbent posture, and in a crouching attitude was peering outfrom beneath the low awning. The glow of the sun, setting over thehills behind, struck full upon his eyes: Frank's were shadowed. Frankhalf turned as if watching the retreating launch man, all the timeslowly approaching the vessel, thus gaining ground without revealing hisface.

  Then he suddenly swung round, and jumped on board. The launch rocked.

  "Wallahy! Would you upset me?" cried Abdi.

  Frank stood in front of him, pointing his revolver, but in such aposture that the weapon could not be seen by chance observers on shore.Half under the awning Abdi was at a disadvantage. He was so much takenaback by Frank's sudden movement, and so much overcome with amazementwhen he at last recognised the features of the newcomer, that he wasincapable of shouting an alarm, and the sight of the revolver within afew feet of his head disposed him to listen to what Frank was saying.

  "Salam," said Frank quietly, "we are going for a little trip together.No, no: keep your hands down. Don't move any further from under theawning. You recognise me, I see. I am the Englishman you have beenhunting--and this is my revolver. It is loaded.--Do you hear? Keepstill.--You have a revolver too, in that belt to which I see yourrestless hand groping. Well, I collect revolvers. I have two of yoursalready; the other will be safer with me. No: keep your hands up; ifyou hurry me I may shoot too soon. On your life don't make a movement!"he ended fiercely.

  With his right hand holding his revolver at the Kurd's head, he stooped,and with a quick movement of his left hand wrested the revolver from theother's belt.

  "Now get back under the awning to the comfortable place you havearranged for yourself," he said.

  The Kurd hesitated and flashed a downward glance at the knives in hisbelt.

  "I will count three," Frank went on. "If you are not comfortable when Icome to three ... one ... two----"

  With a snarling curse Abdi crept backward to the cushions at the furtherend of the awning, and collapsed there.

  Transferring the revolver to his left hand, Frank, also moving backward,came to the engine. It was not his first trip in a motor launch, and arapid examination showed him that the boatman had got everything ready.Nothing remained but to switch on the current, turn the crank and castoff the hawser. These movements he made, his eyes scarcely leaving thediscomfited Kurd for a moment. Then he threw the engine into gear andseized the helm, and the little craft sidled from the jetty, and shotaway over the dancing wavelets of the Dardanelles.