CHAPTER IV
The Awakening
"Dash it all! What am I doing here?" muttered Ross Trevor drowsily, ashe opened his eyes.
For the moment he quite imagined that he was in his dormitory atschool, and that by an oversight the rest of his chums had left him inbed. The suggestion was strengthened by the sound of gurgling water,as if the bathroom tap were running. Then he became aware thateverything was pitching up and down. Once before he had experienced asimilar sensation--when he had had a violent headache following aslight touch of sunstroke.
It puzzled him, too, that he was almost in darkness. Somewherewithout, and partly screened by some projection, an electric light wasburning. The reflected rays were just sufficient to enable him to takestock of his surroundings.
No, he was not back in the school dormitory. True, he had a headache,but that would not account for the actual motion. He fumbled, hisfingers came in contact with a curved board that served to prevent theoccupant of the bed--or, rather, bunk--from falling on the floor.
Almost mechanically he rolled out, and stood supporting himself bygrasping the ledge of the bunk. The swaying, due partly to dizzinessand partly to an unaccountable see-saw motion, would have thrown him tothe floor but for the assistance afforded by the side of the bunk.
Gradually he became aware that there was a similar sleeping-placeimmediately beneath the one he had been occupying. Someone was lyingthere, breathing heavily. There was sufficient light for Ross torecognize him. It was his chum Vernon.
Just then a bell clanged noisily. The sound of running water wasoutvoiced by the loud din of machinery in motion. A wave of hot airthat reminded the lad of the atmosphere of a Tube station wafted pasthim. The whole fabric trembled under the powerful pulsations of themechanism.
With his legs trembling through sheer physical weakness, Ross hung ongrimly. He wanted to shout, but no sound came from his parched tongue.He was bewildered. It seemed as if he were in the throes of a terriblenightmare, and that he would awake on finding himself falling into abottomless abyss.
The reflected light was obscured as a broad-shouldered man made his wayalong the narrow corridor in which the bunks were placed. As he did sohe caught sight of the lad. Without a word he seized Ross in his arms,not roughly, but nevertheless unceremoniously, and lifted him back intothe bunk. There was something so peremptory in the action that Rosslay still and closed his eyes. All his will power seemed to havedeserted him.
"Make a dash for it, old man!" exclaimed a muffled voice that Trefusishardly recognized as his chum's. "Make a dash for it. Don't let themcollar us."
It was Vernon rambling in his sleep. The words were sufficient to giveRoss a key to the hitherto baffling problem.
Like a flash he recalled the episode of their adventure on St. Mena'sIsland. He remembered himself being held in the grasp of the powerfulRamblethorne until unconsciousness overcame him. He was still aprisoner, but with the qualifying knowledge that he was not alone.Vernon Haye was sharing his captivity, wherever it might be.
"We're afloat then," he muttered. "What has happened?"
Moistening his lips, Ross leant over the side of the bunk and calledhis chum by name. His voice sounded strangely unfamiliar. He couldonly just hear himself above the clamorous noise of the engines.
It was not long before another man appeared at the end of the corridor.As he did so he switched on a lamp almost above the lad's head. For afew seconds Ross was temporarily blinded by the sudden transition fromartificial twilight to the intense brilliancy of electric light.
"So! You are now awake, hein?" asked a guttural voice. "How you vosfeel?"
"Rotten!" replied Ross emphatically. His reply was brief and to thepoint. It summed up his sensations during the last ten minutes.
The man laughed.
"So you look. You better soon will be. You know where you now vos?"
"On board a ship," answered the lad. He was still hoping against hopethat his questioner was anything but a German. There was a smallchance that he had by some means been picked up at sea by a Dutch or aSwedish vessel.
The man's announcement "put the lid on" that possibility.
"Sheep--goot!" he chuckled. "German unterseeboot--vot you vos callsubmarine. No danger to you boys if you yourselves behave. Much tosee--ach! plenty much."
The lad's eyes had now become more accustomed to the light. He couldsee that his visitor was a broad-shouldered, muscular man of averageheight, florid-featured, and with light-yellow hair and a fairmoustache. He was dressed in a uniform that was apparently a bad copyof that worn by executive officers of the British Navy. On the breastof his coat he wore an Iron Cross.
"Me Hermann Rix, Ober-leutnant of unterseeboot," he announced. "DerKapitan send me to see how you get better. Goot! I tell seaman tobring food quick. In one hour you go on deck. Den you feel all well."
The German Leutnant bent and peered into the lower cot.
"Fat head," he remarked seriously. "Bad knock, but he get well soon."
With that the officer went away, leaving the light switched on.
Scrambling out of his bunk, Ross approached his chum. Vernon was nowsleeping quietly. His face, however, was flushed, while it was quiteevident that he had received a fairly heavy blow across the skull, forthe top of his head was swollen to a considerable extent.
Before Ross had finished his examination a sailor entered, bearing atray on which were three slices of rye bread, some tinned beef, and abottle of Rhenish wine.
"Sprechen Sie deutsch?" he asked.
For an instant Trefusis hesitated before replying. To professignorance of the German language would be an immense advantage while onboard the submarine, provided he could control his facial expressionsand listen without betraying himself. Then, on the other hand, hereflected that Ramblethorne, the spy, might have been instrumental ingetting him into this predicament. More than likely the Captain of thesubmarine had been informed of the fact that his unconscious passengerswere well acquainted with the tongue-twisting language of theFatherland.
"Here is food for you," said the man, placing the tray on the floor."You had better take hold of the bottle before it upsets. We arerolling a bit. When your friend open his eyes, call me. I am inyonder compartment. It would be well for you to dress. I will bringyour clothes to you very soon."
Ross made a sorry meal. The food was not at all appetizing. Histhroat was in no condition to enable him to swallow easily. A feelingof nausea, due either to the motion, the hot, confined air, or theafter effects of the stupefying injection--perhaps a little of allthree--was still present.
He was actually on board a German submarine--one of Tirpitz'stwentieth-century pirates. He racked his brains to find a reason.With its limited accommodation an unterseeboot seemed the last type ofcraft that would receive a pair of prisoners--andnon-combatants--within its steel-clad hull. It must have been atRamblethorne's instigation; yet why had not the spy knocked the pair ofluckless eavesdroppers over the head and tumbled them into the sea? Itseemed by far the easiest solution; yet, in spite of that, Ross andVernon were being carried to an unknown destination in one of the"mystery-craft" of the Imperial German Navy.
The reappearance of the seaman bearing Ross's clothes cut short thelatter's unsolved meditations. Without a word the man laid the neatlyfolded garments on the bunk--a pair of flannel trousers, cricket shirt,underclothes, and the sweater that had been the cause of the lads'undoing; but in place of his shoes a pair of half-boots, reeking withtallow, had been provided.
Ross proceeded to dress. As he did so a voice that he hardlyrecognized asked:
"Hulloa, Trefusis, where are we?"
It was Haye. His companion was now awake, but hardly conscious of hissurroundings.
"Better?" asked Ross laconically. He could not at that moment bringhimself to answer the question.
"Didn't know that I was ill," remonstrated Vernon. Then, after a vainattempt to raise his hea
d--perhaps fortunately, since the bottom ofRoss's cot was within a few inches of his face--he added:
"Dash it all! I remember. That beastly German gave me a crack overthe head with his copper walking-stick. Where are we?"
"In a rotten hole, old man. We're in a German submarine, boundgoodness knows where."
"Where are my clothes?" asked Haye, this time successfully getting outof his bunk. "Since you have yours, there seems to be no reason why Ishouldn't have mine. Hang it! What's the matter with me?Everything's spinning round like a top."
Mindful of the seaman's words, and with a docility that would havesurprised him in different circumstances, Ross staggered along thecorridor. The passage was about thirty feet in length. On one sidethe metal wall was flat, on the other it had a pronounced curve.Against it were six bunks arranged in pairs. Four were used asstowing-places for baggage, the remaining ones had been given up to thetwo prisoners. The roof was almost hidden by numerous pipes, most ofthem running fore and aft, while a few branched off through the walls.The flat bulkhead evidently formed one of the walls of the engine-room,for, as the lad placed his hand against it to steady himself, he couldfeel a distinct tremor, quite different from the vibration under hisfeet. The floor was of steel, with a raised chequer pattern in orderto give a better grip to one's feet. At frequent intervals there werecircular places, similar to those covering the coal-shoots in thepavement of residential thoroughfares. Walls, ceiling, and floor werecovered with beads of moisture, but whether from condensation orleakage Ross could not decide.
At the end of the corridor or alley-way was a steel water-tight door,running in gun-metal grooves packed with india-rubber. The door wasclosed.
Seizing the lever that served as a handle, Trefusis tried to turn it,but without success. Failing that, he kicked the steelwork with hisheavy half-boots, yet no response came to his appeal.
"The fellow told me to call," he muttered airily. "What did he want toplay the fool for?"
Retracing his steps, Ross went to the other end of the alley-way.There was barely room to pass his companion as he did so. The placefrom which he had previously seen the reflected light was now shut offby a door similarly constructed to the one that he had vainly attemptedto open. He was locked in a steel tomb that was itself a metal boxwithin a metal box--a water-tight compartment of the submarine.
"They might just as well have switched off the light while they wereabout it," he exclaimed bitterly; then at the next instant he wildlyregretted his words. The idea of being imprisoned in that cheerlesscompartment without a light of any description appalled him.
Almost frantically he returned to the door that had previously baffledhim. As he did so he became aware that the submarine was tiltinglongitudinally. Since he was unaware of the direction of the craft,and which was the bow or stern, he was unable to judge whether theunterseeboot was diving, or ascending to the surface.
The incline became so great that he had to grasp the door-lever forsupport. Turning his head, he saw that Vernon was hanging on grimly tothe partition between the tiers of bunks.
Then, as the vessel regained an even keel, silently and smoothly thedoor slid back in its grooves, revealing a small space barely six feetin length and five in breadth, and separated from the rest of thevessel by a closed water-tight panel. Part of the compartment wasoccupied by a bend, at which the seaman to whom he had previouslyspoken was busily engaged in mending a rent in an oilskin coat.
"My friend is now awake," announced Ross.
The man laid aside his work.
"Good!" he replied. "He is just in time. I will bring him his foodand his clothes. After that you will both go on deck for fresh airbefore you are interviewed by Herr Kapitan Schwalbe. See that door?Beyond that you must not pass without permission. It is forbidden. Ifyou do so, you will not have another opportunity in a hurry."
"What are they going to do with us?" asked Ross.
The sailor shook his head.
"It is forbidden to ask questions," he said sternly. "Whatever isnecessary that you should know will be told you."
He turned his back upon his questioner, signifying in a plain mannerthat it was useless for Trefusis to say more. Taking the hint the ladreturned to his chum, wondering deeply at the fate that had thrown theminto the hands of the enemy.