CHAPTER VIII

TREACHERY

FOR several days the _Olive Branch_ continued her headlong course southwards, bound for the Magellan Straits, the gateway to the Pacific.

During that time Tregarthen had little opportunity of speaking to Captain Brookes. The little man was literally working night and day.

At length the line was crossed, without the observance of the time-honoured custom of receiving Father Neptune and his court. Then, as if the classic Sea God smarted under the slight, the _Olive Branch_ encountered a terrific hurricane ere she had run clear of the Doldrums.

It was as if the sea and sky conspired to wreak vengeance upon the cruiser. The waves ran "mountains high," their rugged crest whipped into clouds of spindrift by the tempestuous wind, while torrential rain, accompanied by rapid and brilliant flashes of lightning, blotted out the field of vision to less than a cable's length ahead.

Yet in spite of the elements the _Olive Branch_, her speed reduced to a bare thirty knots, charged through the foaming waters. Everything was battened down, and well it was, for instead of lifting to the waves the cruiser dashed straight through them.

Tons of water swept her decks as far as the aftermost turret, the spray flying in solid sheets high over her charthouse. Yet she maintained a remarkably even keel, so that, had it been necessary, her guns could have been fought with comparative ease.

Gerald, who, like the rest of the crew save those whose presence was necessary in the chart-house, was compelled to remain below, could not help admiring the steadiness with which the vessel behaved.

"Yes, she's a marvel!" assented Alec Sinclair, the first "luff."

"I don't want to alarm you, but this stability is owing to her low metacentric height. It's only her speed that gives her safety, though I would not give much for my life if she were caught broadside on by one of those waves."

Fortunately these storms, though violent, are of comparatively short duration, and, running directly across the path of a hurricane, it was not long before the _Olive Branch_ emerged from the zone of the tempest.

The sea still ran high, though the crests rarely broke inboard, but the hatches were able to be unbattened, and the crew to breathe the fresh air.

"Sail on the starboard bow!"

The officer of the watch, on hearing the hail, immediately acquainted Captain Brookes. During the voyage several craft had been sighted, but, with the exception of the _Puma_--which had previously been ordered to rendezvous at a certain latitude and longitude--they had invariably been carefully avoided. It was a matter of surprise, therefore, that the captain ordered the cruiser's head to be turned towards the strange vessel.

It did not take the _Olive Branch_ long to overhaul the craft, which proved to be a German tramp steamer of about 4,000 tons. She was rolling helplessly in the trough of the waves, alternately dipping her topstrakes and showing the greater part of her bilge-keels, while from her mainmast fluttered the international signal signifying that her main shafting was broken.

Maintaining a bare steerage way the _Olive Branch_ was brought as close to the disabled vessel as was consistent with safety, and by the aid of a megaphone Captain Brookes expressed his intention of giving the tramp a "pluck" into Pernambuco.

"Are you Engliche sheep of war?" asked the gold-laced Teuton in command, knowing full well that in that case he would be freed from the obligation of paying salvage.

"No," replied Captain Brookes, shortly.

"Den how much you want?" continued the German officer, astutely.

"The same as if this ship were a British Government vessel--nothing at all. So stand by to get out a hawser."

The delighted skipper thereupon asked the name of the cruiser, but Captain Brookes preferred to keep a mysterious silence. Possibly he had ulterior motives in acting the good Samaritan, but Tregarthen was unable to fathom them.

It was a hard task to bring the tramp's hawsers aboard the cruiser. Twice they parted like pack-thread, but at the third attempt a strong cable was secured to a stout "necklace" passing round the base of the after-turret. Then, at a steady twelve knots, the _Olive Branch_ headed for Pernambuco, the disabled tramp wallowing astern like a wounded porpoise.

"We can now complete our tour of inspection," remarked Captain Brookes, "since the presence of yonder craft interferes somewhat with our preparations. Bring Mr. Stockton with you."

"Very good, sir," replied Gerald, and in a few minutes the captain and his two _protégés_ were descending the steep iron ladder that communicated with that part of the ship below the armoured deck.

Being below the water-line the place was lighted by electric lamps, while every bulkhead and partition was traversed by a maze of wires, hidden by metal casings, each painted in distinctive colours.

At length Captain Brookes stopped before a sliding steel door and beckoned Gerald and Jack to enter. The two chums found themselves in a small lobby, their progress barred by a door similar to the one they had just entered. Carefully closing the outermost door their guide proceeded to slide back the other panel, disclosing a small room lighted only by the fitful bluish sparks emanating from an electrical machine. Bending over the instrument was a young officer, his head practically covered by a metal cap fitted with receivers similar to those worn by telephone exchange operatives.

"This is our wireless room," said the captain, raising his voice to make it audible above the succession of sharp reports like the crack of a whip. "No overhead gear to be carried away in action or in a gale; our wireless messages are received by an electrical current passing through water. The apparatus is merely an extension of the submarine signalling system. We are in touch with our agents at Swanage in England, Plougastel in Brittany, Cape Cod in the U.S.A., and ere long with Sydney, N.S.W., and Antofagasta in Chili. Thus we are well informed of events that are likely to call for our intervention."

"Then that is how you learned the result of your experiments with the _Zietan_, is it not?" asked Tregarthen.

"A shrewd guess, only it happens to be wrong," replied Captain Brookes. "However, I'll enlighten you on this point."

From the wireless room he led the way for'ard, between walls of steel that doubtless contained more wonders of mechanical triumph. Passing the cable lockers he dived down a narrow hatchway, leading still deeper into the bowels of the ship, till he arrived at the door of a wedge-shaped room corresponding with the bow of the vessel. Here was a table on which were several electrical coils and a pair of dials resembling galvanometers.

"Here you are," continued the captain. "What do you make of this contrivance?"

"I cannot say," replied Gerald, still nettled by the failure of his previous conjecture.

"That apparatus gives us warning when we are passing over a submarine cable. It used to be an accepted fact that the insulation of our deep sea cables is so perfect that the 'leakage' is infinitesimal, but by this instrument we can detect their presence in any depth down to one hundred fathoms. This done, it is a comparatively simple matter to grapple for the cable, hoist it to the surface and tap it. The great disadvantage is that the ship must be brought almost to a standstill to enable the 'detector' to act, and, of course, wholly so while the wire is being brought on board."

"Then you tapped the Borkum and Lowestoft cable--I remember the newspaper report stated that it was interrupted."

"No, I did not. If anything went wrong with that cable it was merely a coincidence. What would be the use of tapping a cable if by so doing it was made useless for transmitting messages? No, it was the Middlekerke and Dumpton Gap lines we took on board, and consequently heard the whole of the business concerning the _Zietan_, and a considerable amount of other intelligence as well. Now I think you have seen all that there is to be seen for the present," continued Captain Brookes, after the engine-room had been inspected. "There is one more marvel, on which I pride myself not a little, but until the finishing touches are completed it would be better to say nothing about it. Some day, and at no distant date, I hope to enlighten you on that subject."

"One question I should like to ask--I hope you will not think me impertinent or unduly inquisitive--that is, where did you obtain your officers?"

The captain pursed his lips for a few moments before replying. "They are, for the most part, gentlemen," he observed. "But, unfortunately, they have fallen in the social scale, and wish to regard their past as a closed book. I can tell you of a few cases, though, of course, in strict confidence. Mr. Palmer, one of our lieutenants, for example, was but a few years ago a commander in the Royal Navy. Ran his vessel full tilt on the rocks, was court-martialled, and 'smashed.' As far as his friends are concerned, Palmer--though that is not his real name--is supposed to be away for a three-years' tour in the Rockies. Then there's White, the surgeon--also an _alias_, by the bye. He was a well-known country doctor with a good practice till he fell foul of a coroner's court over some trivial detail. It broke him as far as England was concerned."

"And the men?"

"Are mostly the discarded victims of the British Admiralty's short service system, with a sprinkling of merchant seamen who have been ousted by cheap and inferior foreigners."

"Are you not afraid that some of them will desert and reveal the secret of the _Olive Branch_?"

"It matters little so long as they do not desert in a body; but, thanks to the condition under which they are engaged, I do not anticipate any trouble in that direction. No man is acquainted with the whole of this vessel's mechanism. Even the officers' duties are not entirely interchangeable. For instance, Sinclair, the gunnery Jack, would be helpless on the Z-rays; Taylor--oh! I have forgotten something, after all. With the load of responsibility on my shoulders it's a wonder that I am not even more forgetful. There's Taylor, the scientist; he runs the laboratory with Guy Temple as his assistant. I have not yet shown you his sanctum."

The laboratory was a spacious apartment on the starboard side of the base of the fore-turret, with a hatchway communicating with the orlop deck. In one corner was a wide bench covered with test tubes, retorts, and similar articles used in chemistry, while on the floor were ranged nearly a hundred cylinders.

"Where's Mr. Taylor?" asked Captain Brookes, of an alert young officer who was engaged in some experiment of scientific research.

"I have not seen him during the last two hours, sir."

"H'm!"

"Shall I send for him, sir?"

"No, it does not matter particularly. Now, Mr. Tregarthen. Here are the explosive charges for the 6in. shells. The projectiles are discharged with Whaddite, an improved form of cordite, but what do you think is the composition of the bursting charges? I'll tell you; it's liquid air. With this explosive a 6in. is more deadly than a thirteen point five shell charged with lyddite. No armour plate can withstand it. Directly we have parted company with the tramp we have in tow, I'll give a demonstration of its power."

The captain's words were interrupted by the appearance of a lieutenant, pale-faced in spite of his tanned complexion, and evidently labouring under suppressed excitement.

"Sir," he exclaimed. "Will you come on deck? The officer of the watch has sent me to say that there's treachery aboard the _Olive Branch_."

"Oh, is that so?" asked Captain Brookes, calmly, then turning to Tregarthen he requested him to accompany him to the quarter-deck.

"Well, Mr. Sinclair," exclaimed the captain as the officer of the watch hurried to meet him. "What's amiss?"

"I observed someone in that vessel astern signalling from the shelter of the bridge, sir," he explained. "I couldn't make out the message, and judging by the manner in which they signalled I took it for granted that the sender wished to avoid outside attention. When I strolled aft the flag-wagging ceased, so I sent Mr. Weeks to your cabin to investigate. He informs me that Mr. Taylor is in the stern-walk and is signalling to yonder German."

"How could he gain the stern walk without attracting the attention of the sentry on the half-deck?"

"I believe, sir, that he slipped over the rail when no one was looking, lowered himself to the canopy of the gallery, and thence to the stern-walk; that's a comparatively easy matter."

"Very good, Mr. Sinclair; carry on as if nothing were amiss."

Thereupon Captain Brookes made for the shelter of the after-turret, whence from the sighting-hood he could command an uninterrupted view of the German vessel without being observed.

"Can you understand German?" he asked.

"Fairly well, sir," replied Gerald.

"Then see what you can make of that," pointing to the rapidly waving flag. "I shall require corroboration."

"'_Make an attempt to leave the ship tonight; we will be awaiting you,_'" read Gerald.

"That's it," assented Captain Brookes. "They've finished for the present; but I've learnt enough."