CHAPTER III
Kidnapped
"I thought you had killed him, von Ruhle," said the doctor, bendingover Vernon and making a cursory examination of the unconscious lad.
"I thought I had," was the unconcerned reply. "Dead men tell no tales."
"There I beg to differ," protested Ramblethorne. "Corpses have a nastyway of turning up at inopportune moments. These youngsters are worthmore to us alive than dead."
"How so?"
"One is a son of Admiral Trefusis; his companion is, I believe, also ason of a distinguished English naval officer."
"Well, and what of it?" asked von Ruhle.
"Hostages," replied the doctor briefly. "Later I will explain.Meanwhile we'll carry them to the cave. It's farther than back to theruins; but perhaps, as young Trefusis said, there may be asearch-party, and the ruins would be one of the first objects ofinvestigation."
Although, with the exception of periodical visits abroad, Dr.Ramblethorne had lived in England all his life and was a fullyqualified medical man, he was a highly trusted and talented agent ofthe German Secret Service. Months before the outbreak of war, he hadbeen ordered to report upon the defences of Devonport, and in order todo this he had bought a practice on the outskirts of Plymouth. Uponthe commencement of hostilities, he was detailed to keep underobservation the military preparations of the Duchy of Cornwall, andalso to take necessary steps for communicating with German submarinesthat, under von Tirpitz's prearranged scheme, were to operate in theBristol Channel. Von Ruhle was one of the few subordinates he actuallyknew. There were others with whom he communicated only through anintermediary, and who knew him only by a number.
Von Ruhle was almost as mentally clever as his superior.Ostentatiously he was an Englishman. Sometimes he posed as a miningengineer; at others as a commercial traveller; as an accreditedrepresentative of the British Red Cross Society he was in the habit ofmaking frequent journeys to Holland, presumably in connection with workat Groningen Internment Camp. At the present time, his activities werecentred upon the formation of a secret petrol depot for the supply offuel to unterseebooten operating in the Bristol Channel and off thesouth coast of Ireland.
A couple of slight incidents had served to put the cautiousRamblethorne on his guard during his interview with von Ruhle in theruined chapel.
Although he verbally deprecated his subordinate's alarm when the ladsaccidentally dislodged a stone from the tower, it was merely to disarmpossible eavesdroppers of any suspicion that their presence wassuspected.
The ability to control his feelings was one of the super-spy's chiefassets. Suspicion once aroused, he proceeded without the faintest signto investigate his surroundings. His keen eye soon lighted upon thelads' sweaters. Then it was that an adjournment was suggested to MainBeach Cove.
This was simply and solely a "blind", for on gaining the cover of theboulder-strewn hillock the doctor communicated his suspicions to hiscompanion. The pair then crouched behind the rocks, whence they wereable to command a view of the tower.
It was not long before their enterprise met with success. They sawTrefusis and his chum cautiously descend by means of the ivy; then,directly the lads set out upon their ill-starred tracking expedition,the Germans, as before related, succeeded in outflanking them andeffecting their capture.
"Time!" announced Ramblethorne, consulting his watch.
"Are these safe?" asked von Ruhle, stirring Vernon's unconscious formwith his foot.
"Quite; though, perhaps, to make sure I will give this youngster aslight injection. Pity you hadn't held him with the double arm-lockinstead of cracking him over the head. Herr Kapitan Schwalbe won'twant to be troubled with a passenger with a swollen head."
Leaving their senseless victims in the cave, the two Germans againascended the hill to St. Mena's Chapel. As they breasted the summit,they could see the fixed white light of Black Bull Head showingmomentarily brighter and brighter against the rapidly failing daylight.
Setting a prismatic compass in position upon the sill of one of theglazeless windows, Ramblethorne took a careful bearing in a seawarddirection. This done, he pointed the projector of the signallingapparatus in precisely the same direction, and threw a waterproofedcloth over the instrument.
"Too early yet, von Ruhle," he remarked. "Nevertheless it is advisableto fix our bearings while twilight lasts. A light might spelldisaster."
"A deucedly unpleasant night for such a task," grumbled von Ruhle.
"On the contrary, it is just the very thing," replied the doctor. "Itis not thick enough to be dangerous, but the rain is just sufficient toassist in the screening of U75. Do not think of your personal comfort,my dear von Ruhle, when urgent work for the Fatherland has to beundertaken."
For another half-hour the two men paced the grass-grown stones. Theirchoice of St. Mena's Island as a secret signalling station was anexcellent one. It was isolated, and, being slightly greater inelevation than the cliffs of the mainland in the immediate vicinity,would effectually screen any ray of light sent landwards from theexpected German submarine. Thus all danger of the narrow gleam ofreflected light being detected by the none too smart members of thecoast patrol was entirely obviated.
"Time!" exclaimed the doctor, consulting the luminous face of his watch.
Dexterously, and without disturbing the position of the instrument, vonRuhle whipped off the covering. Although there were no visible signsthat anything was taking place, both men knew that a beam of light,reflected from the distant lighthouse on Black Bull Head, was beingdirected seawards.
In silence the two men peered through the driving rain, von Ruhlemaking use of a pair of powerful night-glasses.
Suddenly, after an interval of almost five minutes, a faint pin-prickof light flickered from the surface of the sea.
Instantly Ramblethorne stepped a dozen paces to the right.
"I can see nothing from here," he announced in a low voice. "Can you?"
"Yes," replied his companion.
"Good: that's friend Schwalbe."
The doctor was right. From the deck of the unterseeboot a signallingapparatus similar to that employed by the spies was in use. By aningenious automatic arrangement it projected a beam of light, derivedfrom the same sources as that on St. Mena's Island, rigidly in a fixeddirection, regardless of the "lift" of the submarine under the actionof the waves.
For several minutes a rapid exchange of signals was maintained; thenthe two spies, folding up their apparatus, walked rapidly towards MainBeach Cove.
They had not long to wait before the faint sound of oars was borne totheir ears.
"Himmel! They have arrived already," exclaimed von Ruhle.
"So it appears," replied Ramblethorne dryly. "I pride myself that Ihave exceptionally good eyesight, but I fail to see her. The neutralcolour of the submarine is indeed excellent for night work."
They descended the sandy and shingly beach until further progress wasbarred by the lapping wavelets of the rising tide.
Through the mirk loomed up the outlines of a canvas collapsible boatcrowded with men. At two lengths from the shore the rowers laid ontheir oars. One of the men gave vent to a low whistle resembling thecall of a curlew.
"All clear," replied Ramblethorne.
The boat's keel rasped on the shingle. A cloaked figure in thestern-sheets made his way for'ard and leapt ashore.
"Herr von Hauptwald?" he asked.
"The same," replied the doctor. "And Kapitan Schwalbe?"
"The captain is still on board," replied the officer. "It is hard toresist the opportunity of getting ashore after being cooped up therefor more than a fortnight. But the petrol?"
"We have not so much as we hoped to obtain," replied von Ruhle.
The Leutnant muttered an oath.
"And how is business?" asked Ramblethorne, with a view of distractingthe officer's thoughts from the shortage of fuel.
The Leutnant muttered another oath.
"Bad!" he rep
lied savagely. "Only one wretched little tramp steamer,which we fell in with about twenty miles from the Stacks. She gave usa run for our money, but we had her at last. Even then she tried toram us. One has to be most cautious also. These accursed English havebeen far too active with their new-fangled contrivances. We called upU71 early this morning. She replied. Again at noon we called her, butthere was no reply. U70 we have lost all touch with since Monday, yetshe was under orders to assist in the blockade of the Bristol Channeluntil we, as senior unterseeboot, gave instructions to return toWilhelmshaven."
"Lost, I suppose," remarked Ramblethorne.
The Leutnant had walked to a distance of nearly ten yards from his men,who were drawn up in military order awaiting their officer's commands.
He lowered his voice.
"Although I am sorry to say it," he declared, "I am afraid she has gonetoo. Our losses are not only serious--they are appalling. Submarinework is now a continual nightmare. We do our duty, but before long, ifwe are sufficiently fortunate to escape the toils that these Englishcast about us, we shall all be physical wrecks."
The man's agitation increased as he spoke. Obviously he was labouringunder a severe strain.
"And this petrol?" he asked anxiously. "What quantity?"
Ramblethorne told him.
"Not enough," declared the Leutnant. "Himmel, it is not enough to getus round Cape Wrath. On board we have only sufficient for six hours'surface running, while our batteries are not far short of running down.You had better see the captain and explain."
Leaving von Ruhle to direct the seamen to the secret petrol store inthe cave, Ramblethorne accompanied the Leutnant to the submarine.
The U75 was one of the latest type of Germany's submarines. Over threehundred feet in length, there was little about her in common with theaccepted idea of under-water craft. Her deck ran in one continuoussweep for almost her entire length, and rose nearly six feet above thesurface. The visible part of her sides was perpendicular, the bulgingsections being entirely beneath the surface. Her conning-tower wassurrounded by a platform as long as the navigation-bridge of a moderndestroyer. The two periscopes were "housed", but two slender"wireless" masts gave the boat the appearance of a swift torpedo craft.
Acknowledging a salute from a burly quartermaster, Ramblethorne gainedthe deck, and was escorted aft by the Leutnant. Pacing the taperingplatform was a broad-shouldered, fair-haired man of about thirty,although a carefully trimmed blonde beard made him look much older.
He lacked the natural elastic stride of the British naval officer. Hismovements resembled those of a thoroughly drilled soldier, yet ever andanon he would glance furtively in the direction of the open sea as ifin constant dread of sudden and unknown peril.
"Greetings, Herr von Hauptwald!" he exclaimed, when the Leutnant hadformally introduced his visitor. "You are well known to me by repute,but I doubt whether we have met before."
"I fancy so," rejoined the doctor. "Do you not remember that littleaffair in the Strauer Platz? Ah, I thought you would! But to come tothe point. We have been unable to obtain the requisite quantity ofpetrol."
"Somehow I thought it," replied Kapitan Schwalbe. "How much have you?"
Ramblethorne told him.
"Enough, with what we have left on board, for only eight hundred milesrun. It will not take us home, and we are under orders not to leavethese waters before Friday next. We have been let down badly."
"I know that it is useless to express regrets," said Ramblethorneboldly. "I can only hope that other means of supplying the requisitefuel will be forthcoming. But here is another matter. We have had tosecure two English lads, both sons of distinguished naval officers.Unfortunately they overheard a conversation between von Ruhle andmyself. In the interests of the Secret Service it is absolutelynecessary that they are kept out of the way for at least a couple ofmonths. I am averse to doing them personal injury."
"Then what do you wish?" asked Kapitan Schwalbe.
"Take them on board with you. If possible, land them at a German port.If this be possible, you will realize that we have a strong tool towork with."
"I fail to understand," said the Kapitan of U75.
"They could be made good use of as hostages," resumed Ramblethorne."If these English persist in talking about reprisals, we can hintthat--well, it is unnecessary to go into details."
"I see," remarked Kapitan Schwalbe. "But if it is impossible to landthem?"
"Then you must put them on board the first outward-bound tramp steameryou fall in with--provided she is bound for South American ports, oranywhere that will mean a long voyage."
"Very well," assented the submarine officer. "I quite understand youranxiety to get them out of the way."
"Temporarily, mind," added Ramblethorne.
"Precisely. Herr Rix," he exclaimed, addressing the Leutnant. "Takefour men and go ashore. Von Ruhle will tell you where these Englishboys are; have them brought on board."
"One moment," interrupted Ramblethorne. "They came to the island in aboat. There is nothing unusual in that, I admit, but the fact remainsthat the boat is still lying in the cove next to this. You might orderthe men to set the boat adrift."
"Water-logged, and with sails set and the main-sheet made fast.Another deplorable accident. Ach! It shall be so."
Half an hour later Ross Trefusis and Vernon Haye, still unconsciousunder the action of the anaesthetic injection, were brought on boardU75 and passed below. Their boat, lying on its beam-ends, was driftingslowly in the direction of Black Bull Head. Ramblethorne and vonRuhle, their work for the present done, were already on the way to themainland.
Meanwhile, alarmed at the non-appearance of the young heir toKilligwent Hall and his guest, a party had set off to search St. Mena'sIsland.
Just as the boat's keel grounded on the beach of Half Tide Cove, theGerman submarine slipped quietly through the blurr of misty rain, andunder cover of darkness headed towards the mouth of Bristol Channel.