The Riddle of the Sands

by Erskine Childers

  IX. I Sign Articles

  IT was not an easy question to answer, for the affair was utterlyoutside all my experience; its background the sea, and its actualscene a region of the sea of which I was blankly ignorant. There wereother difficulties that I could see perhaps better than Davies, anenthusiast with hobbies, who had been brooding in solitude over hisdangerous adventure. Yet both narrative and theory (which have lost,I fear, in interpretation to the reader) had strongly affected me;his forcible roughnesses, tricks of manner, sudden bursts of ardour,sudden retreats into shyness, making up a charm I cannot render. Ifound myself continually trying to see the man through the boy, todistinguish sober judgement from the hot-headed vagaries of youth.Not that I dreamed for a moment of dismissing the story of his wreckas an hallucination. His clear blue eyes and sane simplicity threwridicule on such treatment.

  Evidently, too, he wanted my help, a matter that might well haveinfluenced my opinion on the facts, had he been other than he was.But it would have taken a 'finished and finite clod' to resist theattraction of the man and the enterprise; and I take no creditwhatever for deciding to follow him, right or wrong. So, when Istated my difficulties, I knew very well that we should go.

  'There are two main points that I don't understand,' I said. 'First,you've never explained why an _Englishman_ should be watching thosewaters and ejecting intruders; secondly, your theory doesn't supplysufficient motive. There may be much in what you say about thenavigation of those channels, but it's not enough. You say he wantedto drown you--a big charge, requiring a big motive to support it. ButI don't deny that you've got a strong case.' Davies lighted up. 'I'mwilling to take a good deal for granted--until we find out more.'

  He jumped up, and did a thing I never saw him do before orsince--bumped his head against the cabin roof.

  'You mean that you'll come?' he exclaimed. 'Why, I hadn't even askedyou! Yes, I want to go back and clear up the whole thing. I know nowthat I want to; telling it all to you has been such an immenserelief. And a lot depended on you, too, and that's why I've beenfeeling such an absolute hypocrite. I say, how can I apologize?'

  'Don't worry about me; I've had a splendid time. And I'll come rightenough; but I should like to know exactly what you----'

  'No; but wait till I just make a clean breast of it--about you, Imean. You see, I came to the conclusion that I could do nothingalone; not that two are really necessary for managing the boat in theordinary way, but for this sort of job you _do_ want two; besides, Ican't speak German properly, and I'm a dull chap all round. If mytheory, as you call it, is right, it's a case for sharp wits, if everthere was one; so I thought of you. You're clever, and I knew you hadlived in Germany and knew German, and I knew,' he added, with alittle awkwardness, 'that you had done a good deal of yachting; butof course I ought to have told you what you were in for--roughing itin a small boat with no crew. I felt ashamed of myself when you wiredback so promptly, and when you came--er----' Davies stammered andhesitated in the humane resolve not to wound my feelings. 'Of courseI couldn't help noticing that it wasn't what you expected,' was thedelicate summary he arrived at. 'But you took it splendidly,' hehastened to add. 'Only, somehow, I couldn't bring myself to talkabout the plan. It was good enough of you to come out at all, withoutbothering you with hare-brained schemes. Beside, I wasn't even sureof myself. It's a tangled business. There were reasons, there arereasons still'--he looked nervously at me--'which--well, which makeit a tangled business.' I had thought a confidence was coming, andwas disappointed. 'I was in an idiotic state of uncertainty,' hehurried on; 'but the plan grew on me more and more, when I saw howyou were taking to the life and beginning to enjoy yourself. All thatabout the ducks on the Frisian coast was humbug; part of a stupididea of decoying you there and gaining time. However, you quitenaturally objected, and last night I meant to chuck the whole thingup and give you the best time here I could. Then Bartels turned up----'

  'Stop,' I put in. 'Did you know he might turn up when you sailedhere?'

  'Yes,' said Davies, guiltily. 'I knew he might; and now it's all comeout, and you'll come! What a fool I've been!'

  Long before he had finished I had grasped the whole meaning of thelast few days, and had read their meaning into scores of littleincidents which had puzzled me.

  'For goodness' sake, don't apologize,' I protested. 'I could makeconfessions, too, if I liked. And I doubt if you've been such a foolas you think. I'm a patient that wants careful nursing, and it hasbeen the merest chance all through that I haven't rebelled andbolted. We've got a good deal to thank the weather for, and otherlittle stimulants. And you don't know yet my reasons for deciding totry your cure at all.'

  'My cure?' said Davies; 'what in the world do you mean? It was jollydecent of you to----'

  'Never mind! There's another view of it, but it doesn't matter now.Let's return to the point. What's your plan of action?'

  'It's this,' was the prompt reply: 'to get back to the North Sea,_via_ Kiel and the ship canal. Then there will be two objects: one,to work back to Norderney, where I left off before, exploring allthose channels through the estuaries and islands; the other, to findDollmann, discover what he's up to, and settle with him. The twothings may overlap, we can't tell yet. I don't even know where he andhis yacht are; but I'll be bound they're somewhere in those samewaters, and probably back at Norderney.'

  'It's a delicate matter,' I mused, dubiously, 'if your theory'scorrect. Spying on a spy----'

  'It's not like that,' said Davies, indignantly. 'Anyone who likes cansail about there and explore those waters. I say, you don't reallythink it's like that, do you?'

  'I don't think you're likely to do anything dishonourable,' Ihastened to explain. 'I grant you the sea's public property in yoursense. I only mean that developments are possible, which you don'treckon on. There _must_ be more to find out than the mere navigationof those channels, and if that's so, mightn't we come to be genuinespies ourselves?'

  'And, after all, hang it!' exclaimed Davies, 'if it comes to that,why shouldn't we? I look at it like this. The man's an Englishman,and if he's in with Germany he's a traitor to us, and we asEnglishmen have a right to expose him. If we can't do it withoutspying we've a right to spy, at our own risk----'

  'There's a stronger argument than that. He tried to take your life.'

  'I don't care a rap about that. I'm not such an ass as to thirst forrevenge and all that, like some chap in a shilling shocker. But itmakes me wild to think of that fellow masquerading as a German, andup to who knows what mischief--mischief enough to make him want toget rid of _any_ one. I'm keen about the sea, and I think they're aptto be a bit slack at home,' he continued inconsequently. 'ThoseAdmiralty chaps want waking up. Anyway, as far as I'm concerned, it'squite natural that I should look him up again.'

  'Quite,' I agreed; 'you parted friends, and they may be delighted tosee you. You'll have plenty to talk about.'

  'H'm,' said Davies, withered into silence by the 'they'. 'Hullo! Isay, do you know it's three o'clock? How the time has gone! And, byJove! I believe the fog's lifting.'

  I returned, with a shock, to the present, to the weeping walls, thediscoloured deal table, the ghastly breakfast litter--all the visiblesymbols of the life I had pledged myself to. Disillusionment wasmaking rapid headway when Davies returned, and said, with energy:

  'What do you say to starting for Kiel at once? The fog's going, andthere's a breeze from the sou'-west.'

  'Now?' I protested. 'Why, it'll mean sailing all night, won't it?'

  'Oh, no,' said Davies. 'Not with luck.'

  'Why, it's dark at seven!'

  'Yes, but it's only twenty-five miles. I know it's not exactly a fairwind, but we shall lie closehauled most of the way. The glass isfalling, and we ought to take this chance.'

  To argue about winds with Davies was hopeless, and the upshot wasthat we started lunchless. A pale sun was flickering out of masses ofracing vapour, and through delicate vistas between them the fair landof Schleswig now revealed and now with
drew her pretty face, as thoughsmiling _adieux_ to her faithless courtiers.

  The clank of our chain brought up Bartels to the deck of the'Johannes', rubbing his eyes and pulling round his throat a grey shawl,which gave him a comical likeness to a lodging-house landladyreceiving the milk in morning _d?shabill?._

  'We're off, Bartels,' said Davies, without looking up from his work.'See you at Kiel, I hope.'

  'You are always in a hurry, captain,' bleated the old man, shakinghis head. 'You should wait till to-morrow. The sky is not good, andit will be dark before you are off Eckenf?rde.'

  Davies laughed, and very soon his mentor's sad little figure was lostin haze.

  That was a curious evening. Dusk soon fell, and the devil made adetermined effort to unman me; first, with the scrambled tea whichwas the tardy substitute for an orderly lunch, then with the new andnauseous duty of filling the side-lights, which meant squatting inthe fo'c'sle to inhale paraffin and dabble in lamp-black; lastly,with an all-round attack on my nerves as the night fell on our fraillittle vessel, pitching on her precarious way through driving mist.In a sense I think I went through the same sort of mental crisis aswhen I sat upon my portmanteau at Flensburg. The main issue was notseriously in question, for I had signed on in the _Dulcibella_ for goodor ill; but in doing so I had outrun myself, and still wanted anoutlook, a mood suited to the enterprise, proof against pettydiscouragements. Not for the first time a sense of the ludicrous cameto my assistance, as I saw myself fretting in London under my burdenof self-imposed woes, nicely weighing that insidious invitation, andstepping finally into the snare with the dignity due to myimportance; kidnapped as neatly as ever a peaceful clerk waskidnapped by a lawless press-gang, and, in the end, finding as thearch-conspirator a guileless and warm-hearted friend, who called meclever, lodged me in a cell, and blandly invited me to talk German tothe purpose, as he was aiming at a little secret service on the highseas. Close in the train of Humour came Romance, veiling her face,but I knew it was the rustle of her robes that I heard in the foambeneath me; I knew that it was she who handed me the cup of sparklingwine and bade me drink and be merry. Strange to me though it was, Iknew the taste when it touched my lips. It was not that bastardconcoction I had tasted in the pseudo-Bohemias of Soho; it was notthe showy but insipid beverage I should have drunk my fill of atMorven Lodge; it was the purest of her pure vintages, instilling theancient inspiration which, under many guises, quickens thousands ofbetter brains than mine, but whose essence is always the same; thegay pursuit of a perilous quest. Then and there I tried to clinch thematter and keep that mood. In the main I think I succeeded, though Ihad many lapses.

  For the present my veins tingled with the draught. The wind humminginto the mainsail, the ghostly wave-crests riding up out of the void,whispered a low thrilling chorus in praise of adventure. Potentindeed must the spell have been, for, in reality, that first nightsail teemed with terrors for me. It is true that it began well, forthe haze dispersed, as Davies had prophesied, and Bulk PointLighthouse guided us safely to the mouth of Kiel Fiord. It was duringthis stage that, crouching together aft, our pipe-bowls glowingsympathetically, we returned to the problem before us; for we hadshot out on our quest with volcanic precipitation, leaving much to bediscussed. I gleaned a few more facts, though I dispelled no doubts.Davies had only seen the Dollmanns on their yacht, where father anddaughter were living for the time. Their villa at Norderney, andtheir home life there, were unknown to him, though he had landed onceat the harbour himself. Further, he had heard vaguely of astepmother, absent at Hamburg. They were to have joined her on theirarrival at that city, which, be it noted, stands a long way up theElbe, forty miles and more above Cuxhaven, the town at the mouth.

  The exact arrangement made on the day before the fatal voyage wasthat the two yachts should meet in the evening at Cuxhaven andproceed up the river together. Then, in the ordinary course, Davieswould have parted company at Brunsb?ttel (fifteen miles up), which isthe western terminus of the ship canal to the Baltic. Such at leasthad been his original intention; but, putting two and two together, Igathered that latterly, and perhaps unconfessed to himself, hisresolve had weakened, and that he would have followed the 'Medusa' toHamburg, or indeed the end of the world, impelled by the same motivethat, contrary to all his tastes and principles, had induced him toabandon his life in the islands and undertake the voyage at all. Buton that point he was immovably reticent, and all I could conclude wasthat the strange cross-current connected with Dollmann's daughter hadgiven him cruel pain and had clouded his judgement to distraction,but that he now was prepared to forget or ignore it, and steer asettled course.

  The facts I elicited raised several important questions. Was it notknown by this time that he and his yacht had survived? Davies wasconvinced that it was not. 'He may have waited at Cuxhaven, orinquired at the lock at Brunsb?ttel,' he said. 'But there was noneed, for I tell you the thing was a certainty. If I had struck and_stuck_ on that outer bank, as it was a hundred to one I should do,the yacht would have broken up in three minutes. Bartels would neverhave seen me, and couldn't have got to me if he had. No one wouldhave seen me. And nothing whatever has happened since to show thatthey know I'm alive.'

  'They,' I suggested. 'Who are "they"? Who are our adversaries?' IfDollmann were an accredited agent of the German Admiralty---- But, no,it was incredible that the murder of a young Englishman should beconnived at in modern days by a friendly and civilized government!Yet, if he were not such an agent, the whole theory fell to theground.

  'I believe,' said Davies, 'that Dollmann did it off his own bat, andbeyond that I can't see. And I don't know that it matters at present.Alive or dead we're doing nothing wrong, and have nothing to beashamed of.'

  'I think it matters a good deal,' I objected. 'Who will be interestedin our resurrection, and how are we to go to work, openly orsecretly? I suppose we shall keep out of the way as much as we can?'

  'As for keeping out of the way,' said Davies, jerkily, as he peeredto windward under the foresail, 'we _must_ pass the ship canal;that's a public highway, where anyone can see you. After that therewon't be much difficulty. Wait till you see the place!' He gave alow, contented laugh, which would have frozen my marrow yesterday.'By the way, that reminds me,' he added; 'we must stop at Kiel forthe inside of a day and lay in a lot of stores. We want to beindependent of the shore.' I said nothing. Independence of the shorein a seven-tonner in October! What an end to aim at!

  About nine o'clock we weathered the point, entered Kiel Fiord, andbegan a dead beat to windward of seven miles to the head of it whereKiel lies. Hitherto, save for the latent qualms concerning my totalhelplessness if anything happened to Davies, interest and excitementhad upheld me well. My alarms only began when I thought them nearlyover. Davies had frequently urged me to turn in and sleep, and I wentso far as to go below and coil myself up on the lee sofa with mypencil and diary. Suddenly there was a flapping and rattling on deck,and I began to slide on to the floor. 'What's happened?' I cried, ina panic, for there was Davies stooping in at the cabin door.

  'Nothing,' he said, chafing his hands for warmth; 'I'm only goingabout. Hand me the glasses, will you? There's a steamer ahead. I say,if you really don't want to turn in, you might make some soup. Justlet's look at the chart.' He studied it with maddening deliberation,while I wondered how near the steamer was, and what the yacht wasdoing meanwhile.

  'I suppose it's not really necessary for anyone to be at the helm?' Iremarked.

  'Oh, she's all right for a minute,' he said, without looking up.'Two--one and a half--one--lights in line sou'-west by west--got amatch?' He expended two, and tumbled upstairs again.

  'You don't want me, do you?' I shouted after him.

  'No, but come up when you've put the kettle on. It's a pretty beat upthe fiord. Lovely breeze.'

  His legs disappeared. A sort of buoyant fatalism possessed me as Ifinished my notes and pored over the stove. It upheld me, too, when Iwent on deck and watched the 'pretty beat', whose prettiness wasmainl
y due to the crowd of fog-bound shipping--steamers, smacks, andsailing-vessels--now once more on the move in the confined fairway ofthe fiord, their baleful eyes of red, green, or yellow, opening andshutting, brightening and fading; while shore-lights andanchor-lights added to my bewilderment, and a throbbing of screwsfilled the air like the distant roar of London streets. In fact,every time we spun round for our dart across the fiord I felt like arustic matron gathering her skirts for the transit of the Strand on abusy night. Davies, however, was the street arab who zigzags underthe horses' feet unscathed; and all the time he discoursed placidlyon the simplicity and safety of night-sailing if only you arecareful, obeying rules, and burnt good lights. As we were nearing thehot glow in the sky that denoted Kiel we passed a huge scintillatingbulk moored in mid-stream. 'Warships,' he murmured, ecstatically.

  At one o'clock we anchored off the town.