three dutch men-of-war, with steam up, lay off flushing, ready to defend the neutrality of their waters.
all vessels were forbidden to clear from the port and enter the north sea after nightfall, and on the sanded floor of the tap-room, in a sailors’ house of rest, our boys were impatiently scraping their feet, awaiting sunrise. in their anxiety to get away without submitting to intimate inspection, they had no desire for napping.
with their belts, these boys represented a money valuation of more than a million francs.
since arrival in flushing, the day before, hans had been an active mover at the mouth of the scheldt, and for shipping news an eager seeker.
at this particular date, the rumor among men[147] of the nautical trade was that, in the rough sea, anchored mines were often going loose, and a bobbing mine is not apt to have any discretion as to the keel with which it collides.
“i’ve heard dozens of mines explode in a single day,” said one captain to hans. the latter had heard a few himself.
in addition to mines, the sea was crowded with torpedo boat destroyers, submarines of all sorts and descriptions, and with cruisers the waters fairly reeked. there, too, were the steam trawlers, either engaged in laying or “sweeping” for mines. these “sweepers” run in pairs. between each pair a steel net is suspended. the theory is that mines, whether floating or anchored, will be caught by that net. then one of the destroyers, which are constantly darting about, is signaled, and destroys the mine by a single shot.
overhead, zeppelins and other aircraft continually circled, dropping bombs where they would do the most harm to those whom the airmen desired to harm the most, and sometimes harm was done without intent.
once out of the scheldt, and trouble was likely to begin any minute, particularly for any craft considered unfriendly by the british fleet.
a narrow lane had been slashed—as a woodsman would say—through the sea. outside of it there was danger everywhere.
[148]
such was the situation when hans introduced captain eberhardt to the restless four in the house of rest.
the captain was a man of few words, and had a firecracker way of delivering them.
he said he owned a “scow with a funnel in it,” and he was one of the pilots who were trusted to take boats through. the shoals in the shallow and muddy water of the north sea had been well marked in times of peace, but now only here and there to be seen by the men at the wheel, for guides, were big red “war buoys.”
henri had taken from the belts sufficient gold for even extraordinary passage money for himself and comrades, and jingled the coins on the deal table at which the party were sitting.
“we want to get out of here at daybreak, if you can swing it, captain,” he said.
the captain looked at the coins and then at his watch, a massive silver timepiece, hitched to his broad vest-front by twisted links of steel.
“bring ’em down”—the captain addressing hans in dutch.
hans nodded assent, and kept the captain company to the door, where they apparently completed arrangements.
when the cuckoo in the clock, shelved above the fancy tiled fireplace, warbled the hour of 4 a. m.,[149] hans shook the sleepy attendant into a waking moment, and hustled him after cakes and coffee.
at 5 o’clock hans and the boys dropped again into the boat in which they had floated down from santvlieto.
captain eberhardt’s vessel was in anchor in the sloppy waters off flushing, and the captain was aboard when hans and the boys climbed to the deck.
the captain had also, just previously, been visited by members of the coast guard service, but as he was well known, and not a character under suspicion, this visit was wholly informal.
at 7 o’clock the vessel weighed anchor, and steamed out to sea.
with flushing far behind them, the boys began to notice an occasional appearance above the waves of a slim gray periscope, a long tube fitted with a series of prisms, which enable the men guiding the submarines to obtain a view of the surrounding water.
when several of these under water boats showed at once, half submerged, and men could be seen huddled together in the barrels of bridges, jimmy’s delight knew no bounds.
“what do you think of them, now, you flying catapults?” he called to the boys.
“wouldn’t mind taking a ride in one, old top,” was billy’s genial observation.
[150]
“you’d like it when you got used to it,” advised jimmy.
“what’s up now?”
henri’s startled question referred to a dull sound, that came from a point quartering to their course, and a fountain of water spurting into the air.
“a mine let go, i’ll bet,” surmised henri.
“you’re right, and a corker, too,” admitted jimmy.
the captain had evidently sighted something else from his position on the bridge, for his firecracker voice shouted the order:
“run up those flags!”
three miles away a fleet of a half dozen destroyers were tearing toward the little steamer, with black bands of smoke striking down from each raking funnel.
the captain on the bridge had seen an impatient signal snapping from the flagship of the fleet.
the curiosity of the fleet was soon satisfied, but the captain complained that they ought to have known that he and his ship were no strangers in these parts.
he little reckoned, then, that the good old hulk was to get its wrecking blow that night from the inside and not the outside.
the boys, when the bell strokes were counting 10 o’clock, were still in the vessel’s bow, where[151] they had been since the early evening, talking of the many dangers that lurked in the misty nooks of these turbulent waters.
“i guess i’ll turn in,” yawned billy. “this craft is an awful drag; it’s been acting like a street car on an avenue with two hundred crossings. come on, fellows.”
the words were hardly spoken, when the deck beneath them gave a sickening heave, with a deafening roar in its wake.
the time-worn boilers in the engine room had rebelled at last, and, bursting, they split the seasoned fabric that immediately confined them into countless pieces.
by the upheaval the boys were violently thrown over the deck railing and into the churning water below.
breathless and half-stunned, they instinctively struck out in swimming stroke, and from them the wreck drifted away into the darkness.
weighted down by the heavy belts, in addition to their clothing, the swimmers were soon exhausted.
the end was near!
they swam close together, anticipating it.
one more despairing reach for life—and life was there!
the swimmers’ outstretched arms rested on the bridge of a submarine!
