Part 10 (1/2)

The German counter-espionage officer fitted a cigarette into a long holder, lighted it, and blew a smoke ring into the air. On his face was an expression of extreme contempt. For a little while he considered the sleeping figure thoughtfully; then, reaching forward, he tapped him on the shoulder with the pistol.

Biggles's eyes opened. A shadow of amazement swept through them as they came to rest on the German's austere face. Slowly he raised himself on one elbow.

'You know, von Stalhein, you're becoming a positive pest,' he muttered petulantly. 'Why can't you let a fellow sleep ?'

Von Stalhein smiled sardonically. 'Don't worry,' he purred. 'Very soon you shall go to sleep for a long, long time.'

Biggles eyed him reflectively. 'Just what do you mean by that ?' he inquired.

I mean that in the past I have too often delayed what-knowing you-should have been done immediately. On this occasion there is going to be no such delay. I trust my meaning is now plain.'

Biggles nodded. 'Well, I expect as you're a German you can't help it,' he murmured. 'But really, von Stalhein, your mother should have taught you that it isn't customary to shoot prisoners of war. It isn't done. I insist on a fair trial.'

'You had one, on the Leipzig.'

Biggles realized the futility of protest. 'Purely as a matter of detail, how did you find your way here ?' he asked.

The German held up Biggles's map. 'It was most thoughtful of you to make pencil marks that brought me almost directly to Bergen Ait. An officer of your experience should have known better.'

[image]

'You're quite right. I deserve to be shot for such criminal folly,' agreed Biggles. 'How did you get here-in the drifter ?'

Of course. It picked me up, so after landing those saved from the Leipzig I came straight on here-not alone, of course. I have a score of marines outside. They are just checking your very interesting stores. I suppose you realize that you have committed a flagrant breach of international law in installing yourself here, on neutral territory ?'

Biggles did not enlighten the German as to the facts of the case ; he would discover them in due course. 'You're a nice one to talk about breaches of international law,' he sneered.

'Suppose I ask a few questions for a change ?' suggested von Stalhein. 'Where are your friends ?'

A ray of hope shot through Biggles's mind, for all the time he had been talking, although he had not shown it, one terrible thought was uppermost in his mind. It was Roy, in the signals room, whom he was thinking about, for on his desk lay the most vital doc.u.ment any German agent could hope to secure-the British secret code-book. The German code was there, too, but that didn't matter. At first he had taken it for granted that Roy had been found, and the code-book with him ; but now, in view of the German's question, it began to look as if this was not so, otherwise von Stalhein would have commented on it. One of his few weaknesses was vanity, and if he had indeed secured the code-book he could hardly have refrained from gloating over it.

So Biggles merely effected a yawn. 'Why, aren't they here ?' he inquired.

Von Stalhein regarded him narrowly. 'No,' he snapped, 'they're not. But doubtless they will return in due course. I'll wait for them-but there is no reason why you should. I have a firing party on parade outside. I presume it will not be necessary for me to use force to induce you to report yourself to them. I will make the necessary introduction before the unterofizier takes charge.'

Biggles rose slowly from the bed. 'You won't object to my having a cigarette ?' he said politely.

Of course not,' replied von Stalhein reproachfully. 'Is there anything else I can do for you-any messages-you know the sort of thing ? I hate being dramatic, but at such moments as this it is usual Biggles lighted a cigarette and flicked the dead match away. 'That 's very kind of you, von Stalhein,' he said coldly. 'I hope to do as much for you one day.'

The German smiled confidently. 'Then you will have to be very quick about it. Shall we go ?'

Biggles nodded. 'I suppose we may as well.'

Von Stalhein clicked to attention and bowed as Biggles preceded him through the door to the depot.

A squad of marines, under an N.C.O., was in line, waiting.

CHAPTER XV.

HAPPENINGS ON THE ROCK.

ROY was still asleep over his work when the Germans entered the cave, but his door was open, and it must have been some sound made by them that caused him to wake up with a start. For a moment or two, still heavy with sleep, he stared about him uncomprehendingly ; then, realizing where he was, he looked at his watch, wondering how long he had been asleep.

To his relief he saw that everything was exactly as he had left it. There was nothing to show that Biggles and Algy had returned and visited the signals room, so he a.s.sumed, therefore, that they were still away, and he was still puzzling over their prolonged absence when a sound reached his ears that took him quickly to the side window of his cabin, which commanded a view of the entrance to the cave.

The sight that met his eyes caused him to go cold with horror. He blinked, shook his head, and looked again, hoping that what he saw was merely a dream-a very unpleasant dream-for coming along the catwalk was a file of German marines. At the mouth of the cave he could see the boat from which they had landed, and beyond it, a huge fuselage bearing the swastika of the German Air Force.

For two or three seconds he could only stare in wide-eyed consternation, his brain racing and his thoughts chaotic; the one fact that he seemed capable of grasping was that in the absence of everybody the base had been attacked in force by the enemy. Not for one moment did he doubt that he was alone in the depot. There was no reason why he should.

He a.s.sumed automatically that had anyone else been there some sort of resistance would have been made. He was not to know, of course, that the German flying-boat had actually been flown to the base by Algy.

Trembling from shock, he tried to force himself to think clearly, to decide what he ought to do. At first he toyed with the idea of making a rush to the bomb-store and blowing the whole place to pieces, himself with it. Then his eyes fell on the code-books, still lying on his desk, and he knew that his first duty must be at all costs to prevent the British code from falling into German hands. The German code did not matter so much, although it would be better, he thought, if the enemy were kept in ignorance of the fact that it had been captured. Hastily stuffing into his pockets all the loose messages that lay on the desk, he picked up the two code-books and crept round to the rear of the hut-the only way he could go, for the German marines had now reached the depot.

His one idea was to find a place where he could either destroy or conceal the code-books before he was captured, for he could not see how capture was to be avoided. There was only one direction he could take without being seen, and that was towards the rear of the cave, and up the narrow pa.s.sage he now made his way.

For some time he stumbled on, bruising himself against unseen obstructions, but relieved to discover that the cave went on farther than he expected. Actually, as we know, it extended a good deal farther, but he was, of course, in complete ignorance of what lay ahead.

Not until he had gone some distance and was sure that he could not be seen from the depot did he start to put into operation the plan uppermost in his mind-the destruction of the code-books. Naturally, his instinctive thought was to burn them, and with this object in view he took a box of matches from his pocket and struck one. Hitherto, not possessing a torch, he had been in darkness, so it was in the light of the match that he first saw his surroundings. Somewhat to his surprise, and to his great satisfaction, he saw that the cave, although it had narrowed considerably, continued, so he decided to follow it to the end in a vague hope that the code-books might be saved after all.

For some time, in his anxiety to get as far as possible from the invaders, he struck matches recklessly, but finding his stock getting low he then began to use them more sparingly; all the same, it was not long before he discovered, by counting them, that he had only four matches left, and these he decided to preserve as long as possible. This was, in the circ.u.mstances, a natural and wise precaution, but it was to prove his undoing, for in trying to climb over an enormous boulder without using one he lost his balance on the top of it. He made a frantic effort to save himself from falling, even allowing the books to fall from his hands, but the rock was smooth, and his clutching fingers failed to secure a hold. His head came in violent contact with the hard floor on the far side; something seemed to explode in a sheet of purple flame, a flame that faded quickly to blackness as he lost consciousness.

Had he known that Briny and his father, the Flight-Sergeant, were somewhere in front of him, he might have proceeded up the cave with more confidence. In their search for Ginger they had explored the rocks round the mouth of the cave as far as it was possible to go, but finding no sign of him there, they had turned their attention to the other extremity. They both had torches so they were able to make good progress, feeling that at last they were on the right track.

It was Briny who discovered Ginger's broken torch. He was picking his way through the loose rocks of Ginger's fallen cairn when he noticed it, lying half hidden under a boulder. He recognized the type at once, and knew then without any doubt that Ginger was somewhere in front of them.

I say, Flight, look at this!' he cried, as he picked up the torch. 'He must 'ave come this way.'

I don't like the look of that,' said the Flight-Sergeant in a worried voice. 'Something pretty serious must have happened or he wouldn't have left his torch behind. The bulb 's broken, anyway,' he concluded, sweeping the floor of the cave with his own torch as if he expected to see Ginger lying there.

'He must 'ave gorn up there,' declared Briny, s.h.i.+ning his light on the high ma.s.s of rock in front of them. 'How did he get up there without a light I wonder ?'

I should say he dropped it from the top,' reasoned the Flight-Sergeant shrewdly.

'But you'd 'a thought he'd 'a come back for it,' protested Briny.

'You would, but evidently he didn't,' observed the practical Flight-Sergeant. 'Give me a leg up; we'd better have a look up here.'

Briny gave him a shoulder, and the Flight-Sergeant gazed speechlessly on the sheet of placid water which he saw in front of him. 'He didn't go this way,' he announced at last.'

'Why not ?' asked Briny from below.

'Come up and have a look.' Bending down, the Flight-Sergeant caught Briny's hands and dragged him to the top of the rock. 'What d'you make of that ?' he muttered.

'Strike ole Riley!' breathed Briny in an awestricken whisper. 'He must 'a tumbled in and got drownded.'