Part 28 (2/2)
Already the stern of the _Kondor_ was almost level with the water, while her decks inclined at a steep angle. Above the noise of the inrus.h.i.+ng water and the hiss of escaping steam, could be heard the now frantic appeal for help.
At the door of the cell Devereux was confronted by a grave problem. The place was locked, and the kapitan, a.s.serting truthfully that he did not possess a key, was clamouring incoherently that the mistake in overlooking the fact that there were prisoners below was not his, but that of some of his subordinates.
”Stand aside there!” shouted Devereux to the inmates of the cell.
Whipping out his revolver he sent a bullet cras.h.i.+ng through the lock, then, heedless of the cry of agony that came from the German skipper, he charged the splintered door with his shoulder.
In the half light he was dimly aware that two people were scrambling between the debris.
”Any more?” he asked.
”No,” was the reply, as the two rescued men, a.s.sisted by the sailors, reeled along the sloping alley-way to the ladder.
Having seen the would-be victims of German _Kultur_ safely on their way to the upper deck, Devereux realized that it was quite time to make good his own escape, for the water was beginning to surge for'ard along the sombre orlop deck. As he turned to make his way aft he became aware that the kapitan, moaning dismally, was staggering in the opposite direction, whence there was no outlet.
”Where are you off to, you blithering idiot?” shouted the young officer.
In a couple of strides he overtook the Hun, gripped him round the waist, and carried him on deck. Then, to his surprise, Devereux found that the kapitan's face was streaming with blood. A sliver of lead from the bullet that had demolished the lock of the cell had struck him in the right eye, completely destroying the optic nerve.
”Can't say I feel sorry for you,” thought the sub-lieutenant, recollections of the cold-blooded cruelty of the Hun vividly in his mind. Nevertheless, still holding the injured skipper, he leapt overboard, whither the rest of the boarding-party had preceded him.
Strong as he was, Devereux had a hard tussle to swim to the submarine.
Caught by vicious eddies, swirled to and fro like a straw on the surface of a mountain torrent, he was almost exhausted when hauled into safety.
Giving a glance over his shoulder as he was a.s.sisted to the deck of his own craft, Devereux saw that the _Kondor_ was making her last plunge.
Throwing her bluff bows high in the air, she disappeared in a smother of foam and a pall of black smoke mingled with steam.
Then, to his surprise, upon going aft to report to his commanding officer, Devereux found Huxtable shaking, like a pump-handle, the hand of one of the men he had rescued.
”By Jove!” exclaimed the astonished Devereux. ”Blest if we haven't----!
Why, it's Sefton!”
”Guilty, m'lud!” replied that worthy.
”And Crosthwaite--he wasn't on that hooker?” asked Devereux anxiously.
”No, thank heaven,” replied Sefton fervently. ”He's still in hospital.
This is my young brother. I've got to blame him for this business, the young rascal. It was a narrow squeak for the pair of us.”
”It was,” a.s.sented Huxtable gravely. ”We spotted the _Kondor_ yesterday and kept her under observation.”
”Then you bagged that Hun battles.h.i.+p?” enquired Sefton.
”No, worse luck,” replied the lieutenant-commander of E--. ”She altered helm just as we were having a shot at her, and some other fellows did the trick. Mustn't complain, though. We are all members of the same co-operative society in the trade. The _Kondor's_ crew? A few hours in the boats won't hurt them, and I'll wireless our destroyers. They are too villainous a crew to slip out of our hands. Come below, old man, and we'll rig the pair of you out in dry kit. With luck, you ought to be in Pompey again within twenty-four hours.”
Pacing the diminutive quarter-deck of H.M.T.B.D. _Boanerges_, as she swung to the first of the flood-tide, were two naval officers. It was too dark to distinguish their features, even in the red glow of their cigarettes.
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