Part 11 (1/2)

His door was flung open, and a compact young man in uniform appeared, carrying Mr. b.u.t.teridge's portfolio, rucksac, and shaving-gla.s.s.

”I say!” he said in faultless English as he entered. He had a beaming face, and a sort of pinkish blond hair. ”Fancy you being b.u.t.teridge.” He slapped Bert's meagre luggage down.

”We'd have started,” he said, ”in another half-hour! You didn't give yourself much time!”

He surveyed Bert curiously. His gaze rested for a fraction of a moment on the sandals. ”You ought to have come on your flying-machine, Mr.

b.u.t.teridge.”

He didn't wait for an answer. ”The Prince says I've got to look after you. Naturally he can't see you now, but he thinks your coming's providential. Last grace of Heaven. Like a sign. Hullo!”

He stood still and listened.

Outside there was a going to and fro of feet, a sound of distant bugles suddenly taken up and echoed close at hand, men called out in loud tones short, sharp, seemingly vital things, and were answered distantly. A bell jangled, and feet went down the corridor. Then came a stillness more distracting than sound, and then a great gurgling and rus.h.i.+ng and splas.h.i.+ng of water. The young man's eyebrows lifted. He hesitated, and dashed out of the room. Presently came a stupendous bang to vary the noises without, then a distant cheering. The young man re-appeared.

”They're running the water out of the ballonette already.”

”What water?” asked Bert.

”The water that anch.o.r.ed us. Artful dodge. Eh?”

Bert tried to take it in.

”Of course!” said the compact young man. ”You don't understand.”

A gentle quivering crept upon Bert's senses. ”That's the engine,” said the compact young man approvingly. ”Now we shan't be long.”

Another long listening interval.

The cabin swayed. ”By Jove! we're starting already;” he cried. ”We're starting!”

”Starting!” cried Bert, sitting up. ”Where?”

But the young man was out of the room again. There were noises of German in the pa.s.sage, and other nerve-shaking sounds.

The swaying increased. The young man reappeared. ”We're off, right enough!”

”I say!” said Bert, ”where are we starting? I wish you'd explain. What's this place? I don't understand.”

”What!” cried the young man, ”you don't understand?”

”No. I'm all dazed-like from that crack on the n.o.b I got. Where ARE we?

WHERE are we starting?”

”Don't you know where you are--what this is?”

”Not a bit of it! What's all the swaying and the row?”

”What a lark!” cried the young man. ”I say! What a thundering lark!

Don't you know? We're off to America, and you haven't realised. You've just caught us by a neck. You're on the blessed old flags.h.i.+p with the Prince. You won't miss anything. Whatever's on, you bet the Vaterland will be there.”