Read The Men Who Wrought Page 4


  CHAPTER IV

  MR. CHARLES SMITH

  A profound silence reigned in the library at Dorby Towers.

  The pungent aroma of cigars weighed upon the atmosphere in spite of thewide proportions of the apartment. Considerable light was shed from theantique sconces upon the walls, as also by the silver candelabra uponthe long refectory table which ran down the centre of the room. Butwithal it was powerless to dispel the dark suggestion of the oldbookcases which lined the walls of the room.

  Two men were occupying one side of the table, and Ruxton Farlow satalone at the other. The eyes of all three were focussed intently uponthe object lying upon the table, which was a ten-foot model of astrange-looking water craft.

  The first to break the spell of the burden of silence was Sir AndrewFarlow, who, with a bearded stranger, occupied the side of the tableopposite his son. But his was no attempt at speech. He merely leantforward with an elbow on the polished oak, and his fingers softlystroking his square chin and tightly compressed lips. He was hummingsoftly, an expression of an intently occupied mind. The fixity of hisgaze suggested a desire to bore a way to the heart of the secrets thestrange model contained.

  The bearded stranger was watching him closely while his eyes appearedto be focussed upon the object of interest, and presently, as thoughthe psychological moment had arrived, he, too, leant forward, and, withan arm stretched out, terminating in a long, lean, tenacious-lookinghand, he pressed a button on the side of the model. Instantly the wholeinterior of it was lit electrically, and the light shone through aseries of exquisitely finished glass-covered port-holes extending downthe vessel's entire sides.

  He spoke no word, but sat back in his chair and went on smoking, whilehe closely watched for any sign of impression which the two interestedspectators displayed.

  The moments slipped by. The patient stranger sat on with his long leanlegs crossed, and a benevolent smile in his large eyes. After a whileRuxton sat back in his chair. Then Sir Andrew abandoned his inspection,and turned to the man beside him.

  It seemed to be the cue awaited, for the stranger promptly leantforward again and released a spring by the movement of a switch.Instantly the model split in half, and, opening much in the fashion ofa pea-pod, displayed the longitudinal sections of its interior.

  Simultaneously the two men whose lives had been hitherto given up toship construction rose to their feet, and pored over the wonderful anddelicate mechanism and design the interior revealed.

  Then it was that Sir Andrew verbally broke the silence.

  "Will you explain, Mr. Smith?"

  The inventor removed his cigar.

  "You know--marine mechanism?" he enquired.

  Sir Andrew nodded.

  "Yes, unless there is a new principle here."

  "It is the perfected submarine principle which was used towards the endof the war. There is no fresh detail in that direction."

  "We have a complete knowledge of that principle," said Ruxton. "We havebeen constructing for the Admiralty throughout the war."

  "Good."

  There was a distinct "T" at the end of the word as Mr. Smith spoke it.

  Ruxton shot a quick glance in his direction. The man's wholepersonality was an unusual one. He was very tall, and very thin. Hisintellectual head, quite nobly formed, was crowned by a shock ofsnow-white hair closely hogged, as might be a horse's mane. Hisfeatures were almost as lean as his body. But the conformation of amagnificent forehead and the gently luminous eyes, beneath eyebrowsalmost as bushy as a well-grown moustache, made one forget the fact.Then, too, the carefully groomed, closely cut snow-white beard andmoustache helped to disguise it still more. It was the face of a man ofgreat mentality and lofty emotions, a face of simplicity andkindliness. It was, in fact, a face which demanded a second scrutiny,and one which inspired trust and liking.

  To the rest must be added certain details which seemed a trifleextraordinary in view of his profession. If his tailor did not trade inBond Street then he certainly must have served his apprenticeship inthose select purlieus. Perfect cut and excellence of material markedevery detail of his costume, which was of the "morning" order.

  "Then there is little enough to explain, except for the architecturalside of the matter," Mr. Smith went on, with a peculiarlyback-of-the-throat tone in his speech, which also possessed a shadow offoreign accent. "I am not offering you a submarine principle. That isestablished now all over the world. I please to call my invention asubmersible merchantman. You will observe the holds for merchandise.You will see the engine-rooms," he went on, rising and pointing outeach detail as he enumerated it. "There are the stateroom decks, withthe accompaniment of saloon and kitchens, and baths, and--and all thenecessities of passenger traffic. Everything is there on a lesser scalesuch as you will find on a surface liner. Its speed and engine powerwill compare favorably with any liner afloat up to ten thousand tons.Thus it has the speed of a surface craft on the surface, with the addedadvantages of a submarine. In addition to these I have a light, in thecourse of production, which will serve to render the submarine immunefrom the dangers of submersion. I call it the 'U-rays.'"

  "The U-rays?" Ruxton's enquiry came like a shot.

  "Just so."

  Mr. Smith replied quite unhesitatingly, and Ruxton's obvious suspicionwas disarmed.

  "This vessel," the inventor went on, quite undisturbed, "solves thelast problem of sea traffic under--all conditions."

  The light of enthusiasm was shining in the man's luminous eyes as hemade his final pronouncement. It was as though the thought had filledhim with a profound hope of the fulfillment of some ardent desire. Itsuggested to the more imaginative Ruxton that he cared more for thepurpose of his invention than for its commercial aspect to himself.

  "You speak, of course, of--war," Ruxton said.

  The large eyes of the stranger widened with horror and passion.

  "I speak of--international murder!" he cried fiercely.

  Sir Andrew turned from the model at the tone of the reply. Ruxton wouldhave pursued the subject, but Mr. Smith gave him no opportunity.

  "Your pardon, gentlemen," he said with a sudden, exquisite smile ofchildlike simplicity. "Memories are painful. I have much that Iremember, and--but let us keep to the business in hand."

  "Memories are painful to us all--here in England," said Ruxton gently."But--this is a beautiful model. Perfect in every detail."

  "It was made in my own shops," returned the inventor simply.

  "And you say this," indicating the model, "has been tested on aconstructed vessel?"

  "I have travelled more than ten thousand miles in just such a vessel. Ihave travelled on the surface at twenty-four knots, and under thesurface at fifteen. I have carried mixed cargoes, and I have carriedcertain passengers. All these things I have done for experiment, sothat the principle should be perfected. You can judge for yourselves. Avessel of this type awaits your pleasure at any hour. A vessel of twothousand tons."

  "Two thousand?" The incredulous ejaculation escaped Sir Andrew beforehe was aware of it.

  "It is nothing," exclaimed Mr. Smith, turning quickly. "A vessel of tenthousand tons can just as easily be constructed."

  The sweeping assertion spoken with so simple a confidence had theeffect of silence upon his audience. It was overwhelming even to thesemen who had witnessed the extraordinary development of invention duringthe war.

  After awhile Ruxton broke the silence.

  "In your original communication to us you assured us of a means ofavoiding the losses we endured during the war from submarine attack.This I understand is the--means. Will you point its uses? I see it inmy own way, but I should like to hear another mind on the subject."

  Mr. Smith folded his arms and settled himself in his chair. Ruxton wasnot seeking information on the subject of the boat. His imaginationtold him all he wanted to know in that direction. It was the man hewanted to study. It was the man he was not certain of. He was convincedthat this man was a foreigner, for all his Britis
h name. He desired tofathom the purpose lying behind this stranger's actions.

  "A great Admiral just before the war," said the inventor, "declaredthat the future of naval warfare lay under the water, and not on thesurface, as we have always believed. He was right. But he did not go asfar as he might have gone. The _whole future of shipping_ lies as muchunder water as on the surface. I tell you, gentlemen, that this boat,here, will afford untold blessings to humanity. To an island country itaffords--existence. Think. This country, Britain, is notself-supporting. Is it not so? It could not keep its people alive formore than months. It depends upon supplies from all ends of the earth.All roads upon the high seas lead to Britain. And every helplesssurface vessel, carrying life to the island people at home, is a targetfor the long-distance submarine. If an enemy possesses a great fleet ofsubmarines he does not need to declare a war area about these shores.Every high sea is a war area where he can ply his wanton trade. Withthe submarine as perfect as it is to-day, Britain, great as she is innaval armaments, can never face another war successfully. _That thoughtis in the mind of all men already_." The man paused deliberately. Thenwith a curious foreign gesture of the hands he went on. "But there isalready established an axiom. Submarine cannot fight submarine--underthe surface." He shrugged. "It is so simple. How can an enemy attack mysubmersible? The moment a submarine appears, the submersible submergesand the enemy is helpless. An aerial warship will become a spectaclefor the amused curiosity to the ocean traveller. In peace time stormswill have small enough terror, and on the calm summer seas we shallspeed along at ever-increasing mileage. I tell you, gentlemen, the daysof wholly surface boats are gone. The days of clumsy blockades areover, just as are the starvation purposes of contraband of war. Withthe submersible how is it possible to prevent imports to a countrywhich possesses a seaboard? That is the proposition I put to the worldin support of my submersible."

  Father and son sat silently listening to the easy, brief manner of theman's explanation. Nor was it till he spoke of the futility of a warsubmarine's efforts against his submersible did any note of passion andtriumph find its way into the man's manner. At that point, however, adefinite uplifting made itself apparent. His triumph was in the newdepth vibrating in his musical voice. There was a light in his eyessuch as is to be found in the triumphant gaze of the victor.

  Ruxton beheld these things with greater understanding than his father.Moreover, he interpreted them with that sympathetic understanding ofone who possesses great ideals of his own. Whoever this man might be,wherever he came from, one thing was beyond all question in his mind.Here was no mere huckster seeking to trade his wares for the solepurpose of gain. Gain might be his object, but somehow he felt that itwas not wholly so, not even paramount in his consideration. It seemedto him that the man had spoken the truth when he had said that hisefforts were directed in the service of humanity.

  But for all his understanding he had no intention of accepting his ownreading without proof from the only direction in which proof could come.

  "And what is the commercial aspect of the matter--between us?" heenquired in his most businesslike tone.

  Mr. Smith looked up in a startled way from the deep reverie into whichhis own words had plunged him.

  "Commercial?" he echoed a little helplessly.

  "Yes." Ruxton smiled. "The--price."

  Mr. Smith nodded readily and smiled back. But his reply carried noconviction.

  "Yes, yes," he said hurriedly. "I was thinking. Of course--yes. Theprice."

  His infantile manner brought a smile to the shrewd face of Sir Andrew.Ruxton only waited.

  "I--had forgotten," Mr. Smith went on. Then, with his curious tenacioushands clasped about one knee, a hopeless sort of distress slowly filledhis eyes. "It--it is difficult," he stumbled. Then quite suddenly aworld of relief seemed to come to him. "Would it not be better to leaveterms until you have seen, and proved for yourselves, of what myconstructed vessel is capable? You see, any price I could name nowwould sound--er--excessive."

  The manner of this strange creature was so delightfully naive that eventhe keen Yorkshire features of Sir Andrew were reduced to a smile ofenjoyment.

  "That's the way I like to hear an inventor talk, Mr. Smith," he criedheartily. "Most of 'em want large sums in options on the bare model andregistered patents. If your invention--the constructed vessel iscapable of what you claim for it, it is worth--millions."

  But the millionaire's encouragement seemed to have an adverse effectupon the inventor. Trouble crept again into his eyes, and he passed onethin hand across his splendid forehead.

  "If it serves to save innocent lives in the future, sir, it has doneall that I ask of it," he said at last. "Its value to me then couldnever be reckoned in millions. There would not be enough cyphers in themind of man to express that value."

  To Ruxton the riddle of this man was growing in obscurity. For all hisunderstanding Mr. Smith's attitude demanded explanation which as yet hewas unable to give it.

  But something in the nature of solution to the riddle was nearer thanhe had supposed. It came in the man's words which were added in furtherreply to his father.

  "I have no fear but my invention will do these things," he said withstrong conviction. "But," he added almost sombrely, "I have otherfears."

  "Others?"

  The commercial mind of Sir Andrew was sharply suspicious.

  "Yes."

  Again came that troubled movement of the hand across the forehead. Theman hesitated in a painful, embarrassed way. Then, with a perfectlyhelpless gesture, he blurted out something of that which Ruxton hadbeen waiting for.

  "Yes, yes," he cried, his eyes full of a passionate light. "I havefears, other fears. Nor are they idle. Nor are they to be belittled. Icame here in secret. No one but my two confidential men, who broughtthis model, know of my coming. No one knows my whereabouts at all, butyou, and those two men whom I can trust--even with my life. Fears. MyGod, if you only knew. I tell you there are people in the world, ifthey knew of my visit to you, if they saw that model lying on yourtable, who would not rest until my life was forfeited, and the utilityof my invention to this country was destroyed forever."

  The man stood up. His great height was drawn up to its uttermost. Hewas breathing hard, but the light in his eyes was not of the fear ofwhich he spoke. They were burning with a strained defiance of thatthreat he knew to be hanging over him.

  The others rose from their chairs simultaneously. Both were startled.But Sir Andrew far more than his son. Startlingly as the revelation hadcome, to Ruxton it _was_ revelation. And now it was he who took theinitiative. He leant across the table.

  "I think I understand something that has been puzzling me all theevening, Mr.--Smith," he said. "And now that I understand it I amsatisfied. You have come to us to-day at great danger to yourself. Youare risking everything in the world that we shall have the benefit ofyour invention. The last thought in your mind is the commercial aspectof this affair. Your real object in coming is your secret for thepresent. I might even hazard a guess at it. But it is your secret, andone we have no desire to probe. You desire a pledge from us. That isobvious. And for myself I give it freely. Your secret is safe withme--safe as the grave. I shall avail myself of your offer of a trip inyour submersible, and, if you will permit me, I shall make my own timefor it in the near future. Will you allow me that privilege?"

  The inventor impulsively held out his hand, and his relief was obviousand intense. It was almost as if he had feared the result of hisrevelation.

  "Your wishes are entirely mine," he said, as Ruxton wrung his hand. "Itwas this necessity for secrecy which has troubled me. I did not thinkyou would accept it. And--I feared the shattering of all my hopes." Heturned to Sir Andrew, who stood watching the scene wonderingly.

  "And you, sir?" he asked, with extended hand. "Have I your word?"

  "Absolutely, sir."

  The bluff tone, and the grip of the Yorkshire hand, had its prompteffect.

  "I need no more."
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  The man proceeded to close up his model.

  "And for communicating with you?" demanded Ruxton.

  Mr. Smith looked up.

  "The same address. Veevee, London. It will always find me."

  "Thank you."

  Two hours later Ruxton and his father were alone in the library. Theinventor had gone, and his precious model had been carefully removed bythe two men who had conveyed it to Dorby Towers. For those two hoursSir Andrew and his son had thrashed threadbare the situation created bythe stranger's coming. And, incredible as it seemed, in the minds ofboth men was a steady conviction that the work of that evening was tomark an epoch in the history of their country.

  The possibilities were of a staggering nature. Neither could probe thefuture under this new aspect. If this new principle of ocean trafficwere to---- But it was "if." If the man were honest. If the inventionwere right. If--if, and again--if. That was it. And so they had talkedit out.

  Now it was time to seek that rest which Ruxton sorely needed. His hadbeen a strenuous day, and he knew he must return to town to-morrow. Herose and stretched himself.

  "Well, Dad, it's bed for me," he said, in the midst of a yawn.

  His father looked up from his final cigar, which was poised in his hand.

  "Yes. You must be tired, boy. There's one thing, though, about thatman, that's occurred to me," he added, his mind still dwelling on thesubject of their long discussion. "Did you notice his speech? He didn'tsound to me English, and yet there--was no real accent."

  Ruxton laughed.

  "I wondered if that had escaped you." Then his eyes grew serious. "No,he isn't an Englishman. He isn't even Dutch. That I am sure of. But hisnationality--no, I cannot say."

  "No. It's a difficult matter with these foreigners."

  "Yes. But if I can't locate his nationality I am certain of a veryimportant fact."

  "And that is?"

  "He belongs to--Germany."