Read The Men Who Wrought Page 18


  CHAPTER XVIII

  FROM BENEATH THE WATERS

  The appeal in Vita's voice, in her yearning, distressed eyes, when shedemanded her lover's reassurance of her father's escape, was notwithout a powerful effect on the romantic chivalry which was so large apart of Ruxton's nature. It set every nerve in his body tingling toserve her. Then, too, the debt he owed to the Prince himself, in thename of his country, urged him.

  That night he had bought later editions of the paper, seeking furthernews which might throw light upon the matter, and possibly yield anexplanation of the Baltic incident which might relieve them of allanxiety. But none was forthcoming. The reports passed from the "stoppress" to the news columns without added detail. Editorial speculationwas added, but this afforded no clue to the unravelling of the mystery.

  Then, at last, Ruxton took a decision. Its purpose was vague, but theimpulse was irresistible. His whole thoughts focussed themselves uponDorby and the work going on there. He had offered this foreigner theshelter of his home. He had impressed it upon him. It seemed to himthat such being the case, should his anticipation prove correct, hisplace, at the moment, was unquestionably Dorby.

  He communicated his feelings on the matter to Vita, who saw in hisideas the inspiration which he would never have admitted.

  "If it should be that he has escaped those dreadful guns," she said,her hands clasped in an effort to steady herself, "Dorby is the placehe will make for--the Old Mill Cove. Oh, my dear, my dear, can you notsee what would happen if he arrived with no one there to caution him?He would make for Redwithy. He would come straight to me. And VonSalzinger would be ready for him. You will go? You will help him for mysake? Ah, thank you," as the man nodded his silent reassurance."Meanwhile I will return home at once that I may be ready for everyeventuality--and Von Salzinger. I will let you know any development."

  So it came about that Ruxton found himself at Dorby Towers once more,in deep consultation with his father, who, with steady twinkling eyes,listened and advised with all the shrewd, calm wisdom of his clearcommercial brain.

  Nearly the whole of the next day was spent by Ruxton upon the cliffs,where, with powerful glasses, he searched the calm surface of thetreacherous grey waters of the North Sea. His search remainedunrewarded, but he was indefatigable. His watch was kept up with theaid of a confidential man of his father's to relieve him, and whenevening came he decided that a night watch must follow the day. He hadcarefully calculated the time from the date and hour of the Balticfiring, and, in the light of the experience of his own journey toBorga, he calculated that if the Prince had actually escaped, and wasmaking for Dorby, he would reach the coast some time during the nexttwelve hours.

  From three o'clock in the afternoon until darkness set in he hadrested, leaving his assistant on guard. Then he set out alone to keephis night vigil.

  His way took him across the wild moorland in the direction of the blackremains of the old mill, and, in setting out, he remembered that nightwhich now seemed so far back in his memory, when, out of the darkness,he had heard those tones he had now come to love so well. This time,however, his dinner coat and thin shoes had been abandoned in favor ofa heavy tweed ulster and thick shooting boots. For the autumn night wasbitter with a light breeze from the northeast, and a great silverymoon, and the cold diamonds of a starlit sky, suggested that thespeeding hours were likely to bring with them many degrees of frostbefore he could return to the warmth of his bed.

  His direction gave him no trouble. Every foot of the moorland cliff wasfamiliar to him with the instinct bred through childish years ofassociation. Then there was the great, heavy moon yielding a light bywhich it would almost have been possible to read.

  So he strode on towards his goal, the blackened skeleton, which markedthe old dishonest times of battles fought out against authority. Withthe detachment of youth his thoughts had been left free to wander fromthe purpose of his journey. A deep concentration had completed everydetail of the work that lay before him. And so the resiliency of hisbrain had caused a rebound to those wonderful thoughts which claimedhis every human sensation.

  He was thinking of Vita. His mental faculties had visualized once morethe perfections which were hers, and those with which this love of hisendowed her. His big heart was stirred to its very depths with thememory of her final, wistful appeal. He felt that if human effort couldserve her, that effort, the whole of it that was in him, was at herservice. He felt that all quite suddenly a great new power had beenvouchsafed him, a power to do, to act, and to think--all for the womanwho had inspired in him this wonderful, wonderful feeling of love.

  Nothing, no task, no labor, however great, was too arduous for him toaccomplish. More, it was a happiness, such as never in his life he hadknown, to be privileged with the task of contributing to her happiness.

  In the mood of the moment he had no desire to look ahead. The concernsof the future belonged to the future. For him, in this matter, thepresent was all-sufficient. Next to him Vita loved her father. She hadfearlessly undertaken work which might well have daunted any woman, tohelp him in his motives of humanity. Was there any more sublime motivefor a woman's action? He thought not. And a wave of delightedappreciation swept over him. In the ghostly silvery light of thatautumn night he thanked God that the love of such a woman had beenvouchsafed him.

  He reached the decayed surroundings of the old mill all too soon. But,with a readiness which found him stoically regretless, he probed oncemore the mysteries of the old mill. It was precisely as he had left iton his return from Borga, which seemed so long ago. He could detect nosign that any one had been near the place. He was glad. He felt itssecret was still safe, and was yet a power to serve the woman he loved.

  The journey through the bowels of the earth was one of simpleaccomplishment now. He even required no lantern. All that was necessarywas the lighting of an occasional match to verify his positions.

  At the cavern mouth he found that it was high tide. The rock-girt pitwas darkly sombre, but the radiance of the moon was sufficient tooutline the restless, lapping water's edge, which was all he needed.With some care he scrambled over the slippery boulders and finally madehis way to a great projection which overhung the water some fifteenfeet below, and took up his position upon its rugged, unyieldingextremity. Here he sat in full view of the mouth of the great inlet,through which the waters were still churning. Beyond it, miles out tosea, he could observe every light or object silhouetted against theskyline. But he knew that if Prince von Hertzwohl were making for theOld Mill Cove he would not approach it till the tide was at a low ebb.That would not occur for some hours.

  The tide had long since fallen. It had been ebbing for nearly threehours and a half. So still was the air, so oppressive the sense ofsilent crowding by the towering cliffs about him, that Ruxton's earshad become attuned to every change in the sound of the lapping watersbelow him. He had recognized the period of slack water. Then he hadcaught and read the change of sound with the first signs of the ebb.Then again he had recognized its increasing speed. And all the timeeyes and ears were straining for sight or sound from beyond the mouthof the cove. He had seen lights pass: slow, distinct, as some trader ortrawler passed upon its chilly way. But these had been far beyond therange at which he expected the signs of the submersible.

  It was warmer down in the cove than upon the moorland, but the chill ofthe night air was penetrating, and he huddled his neck down in the highupturned collar of his coat and drew its skirts closer about his knees.It was a dreary vigil, but his determination never wavered.

  A few minutes later he produced a cigar, prepared to obtain thetrifling comfort which tobacco might afford him, but, in the act ofstriking a match he abruptly abandoned the attempt. He flung it awayand raised his night glasses. Some sound had caught his straining ears.It came from well beyond the towering gateway. It seemed to him likethe vague and indistinct throb of powerful engines. After a moment'ssearch the glasses revealed some dark bulk on the bosom of the sea. Ina moment he was on his
feet searching, searching.

  Minutes passed. To him it seemed the bulk remained stationary, but itsvery indefiniteness left him doubting. At last he lowered his glassesand gave himself up to listening. Then he prepared to light his cigaragain. He could hear no sound of engines now. He---- A light hadflashed out! Instantly a responsive thrill passed down through hissensitive nerves.

  Now the rapidly passing moments each brought their developments. Hecould hear the voices of men plainly in the dead silence of the night.They must be near, dangerously near to the treacherous opening. Hecould see other lights, moving lights, like lanterns being borne alonga deck by hand. Then he heard the clanking of cable chains. Finally alarger light, something in the nature of a small searchlight, detacheditself from the others, and came directly towards the opening.

  He turned away and lit his cigar. Then he scrambled down to the beach.

  Ruxton had remained in obscurity watching the light as it passedthrough the opening. It came on swiftly against the racing tide. Therewas no hesitation or indecision. The light steered straight for thespit of rock forming a sort of natural quay, upon which he was standingunder cover of a projecting boulder. There was no longer any doubt inhis mind. He remembered that other time when he had embarked at thesame spot.

  The launch slowed down and crept towards the rocky tongue. The landingwas brilliantly lit up by the searching headlight. Slower, slower, itfinally glided into the landing-place and was held fast by two heavyfigures now clearly outlined.

  A third figure rose up amidships--a tall, familiar figure, clad in along enveloping cloak. He spoke once. Then he stepped actively on tothe landing. Ruxton emerged from the shadow.

  "Welcome, Prince. It is I, Ruxton Farlow."

  He had stepped forward with hand outheld.

  At the first sound of his voice the men in the boat had become still.The Prince had swung round, and his right hand had been plunged deeplyinto the pocket of his great cloak. But a moment later it waswithdrawn, and a deep-throated laugh expressed his relief.

  "Ah, my friend," he cried. "I thought"--then he grasped theoutstretched hand in warm cordiality,--"then I heard your name, andknew my alarms were groundless. You have come here to--meet me?"

  "Yes. We guessed."

  "Ah. Forgive me. I must give some orders."

  He was about to turn away to the men in the boats, but Ruxton detainedhim.

  "Before you give orders, I would suggest you send your vessel round toDorby. Our dock-master is on the lookout for you. He is lying off themouth of the river to pilot you in to a--_safe_--mooring. When you hailhim, pass him one word: 'Towers.' My father is awaiting you at home. Wehave thought out a plan which may meet with your approval."

  The tall figure moved a step nearer. Again his tenacious hand wasthrust out.

  "It is always the same--in Britain. I thank you."

  He turned and gave orders in compliance with Ruxton's instructions.Then the two men stood side by side while they watched the launch slideback with the tide. Then, as it swung about, head on for the opening,they moved away up towards the cavern entrance in the cliff.

  Throughout the passage of the cave, and the long climb up therough-hewn staircase to the mill above, no unnecessary word was spoken.An occasional warning of trifling pitfalls ahead from Ruxton, on thelead, was the only sound beyond the clatter of feet upon the roughstone tread of the journey.

  There was much to be said between them, but each felt that the dankatmosphere of this cavern was scarcely the place in which to pause forconfidences. This was a meeting between these two full of profoundsignificance, even of threat, for both knew that a challenge had beenthrown out at a power for vengeance, the extent of which neither couldas yet accurately estimate.

  The silence between them was maintained until the outline of the oldmill had fallen away well behind them, and the intricacies of thefootpaths amongst the black gorse patches permitted of their walkingabreast. Then it was Ruxton who opened the subject between them.

  "I bought a newspaper almost by chance. It contained news of someaction by the German fleet--in the Baltic. It was vague. But somehow itmade me uneasy. Then Vita seemed to read it aright."

  "Vita?"

  "Ah, forgive me," Ruxton smiled. "The Princess interpreted it. Webecame convinced that it was something to warrant alarm for--yoursafety."

  The tall, lean figure pressed nearer to its English friend. Ruxton feltthe clasp of a hand upon his upper arm.

  "And so you came--to the cove?"

  There was a deep note of appreciation in the man's voice.

  "It was a friendly act," he added.

  Ruxton shrugged.

  "I promised you a welcome in England. It is nothing."

  "No. It is nothing--to some people."

  Ruxton dismissed the subject.

  "They have discovered. Von Salzinger is in England."

  "Yes, Vita has told me. But I knew it without the telling." Then thePrince laughed, and there was ironical inflection in his mirth. "Oh,yes. It was easy to watch--these things. I watched every move throughthe eyes of my few faithful friends. I saw how they kept me undersurveillance, after--after they sent Von Salzinger to England. Then,when I began to feel that their interest in me was becomingthreatening, when I received interrogations that were difficult toanswer--easily--interrogations about the U-rays, then I said to myselfthat I must put to the test all those little plans I had prepared. Iabandoned my works by sea."

  "Then----"

  "Oh, it was not all so simple. The story of it I will tell you someday. One thing I had not calculated upon was that my place was watchedfrom the sea by our naval ships. They are shrewd, these people, butthey are also blundering. These naval men!" His clasp on Ruxton's armtightened. A certain scorn crept into the vibrating tones. "You knowthem? Your people know them. They laugh at them--your people, Imean--as I laughed. The German Navy forgets. They forget that I am themaster of the submarine. They think they know it all--all that I havein here." He touched the high forehead under his soft felt hat with alean forefinger. "But they do not. They see my boat come out. Theychallenge me--as they challenge me at Borga. It is the same again. Ilaugh and I keep on my course. I do not heave-to. Then they open theirguns at me to sink me, but I only submerge. They follow on my line. Icome up. They fire again, and so it goes on. They make a greatcommotion and waste many shells. Then comes night, and--I lose them."He shrugged. Then after a pause he went on. "Now I come to England andI join my daughter in her home. Later on maybe I shall forget thesepeople that have owned my body and brain, and used them for so long tooutrage humanity. I never go back. Never, never!"

  "No."

  Ruxton shrank from the news he must convey. The doubt in hismonosyllable, however, did not pass the other by. The Pole's big eyesturned full upon his companion's face, and enquiry rang in his echo ofthe monosyllable.

  "No?"

  "You cannot go to your daughter's place. Von Salzinger has discoveredit. It will be watched."

  "Ah!"

  "It is an added reason for my meeting you."

  "It is an added complication. So, so."

  "But not beyond--straightening out."

  "No?"

  "My father is awaiting you. There is Dorby."

  They walked on in silence. The old man moved with surprising vigor. Hewas thinking rapidly. The new situation involved a readjustment ofplans. He was seeking solution with a fertility of imagination whichmight have astonished the Englishman had he known.

  Ruxton went on.

  "Our works are under protection from our naval authority. They shouldbe safe. My father thinks the shelter of our home should serve for thepresent."

  Von Hertzwohl seemed to pass the offer by, dwelling only upon thesafety of the works.

  "That is good, the works protected," he said abruptly, his luminouseyes shining. "You are clever. You take no chance. And the work? Itgoes on? Good! Ah! I must see it all." He rubbed his hands. "There isno hitch? Nothing? The vessels grow--grow while you look. Ah
, yes, Iknow you British. There will be no more submarine danger; no moremassacre of women and children at sea. It gives me the greatest joy."

  The old man's enthusiasm was beyond all thought of self. It was sosimple, so intense. It was the enthusiasm of a child for his new toy,and Ruxton marvelled at the odd mixture which went to make up hisstrange character.

  "The completion of the work is as inevitable as that your Governmentmeans to--hunt you down."

  Ruxton thought to impress the Pole with the precariousness of hisposition. But the man brushed it aside.

  "Ach!" he cried, with a gesture of recklessness. "Yes, they hunt medown. That is it. That is why I do not burden your father with mysafeguard. It is good to think of. This generous man--your father. Itis good that his son comes to--help me. I feel it all here." He pressedone hand over his heart. "But no. I know these people. I do not fearthem. They hunt me down. They kill me. It is not so much. It is sosmall a thing I do not think of it. No. But they do not hunt me down,"he went on, with a smile of quiet confidence. "I will go with you toDorby. I will talk with your great father--and then--I go. It will begood to befool them--and I will befool them."

  He laughed a fearless, heart-whole laugh which left the younger manmarvelling.