Chapter XIII

AN OFFICIAL AND AN UNOFFICIAL INSPECTION.

PROMPTLY the naval picket-boats had taken the bow-hawsers of the airship and had passed them to two mooring buoys. Other wire ropes were run out astern, till like a fettered Cyclops the "Meteor" was securely moored.

"Commander-in-Chief coming off, sir," announced Dacres, as a green motor-boat flying the St. George's Cross in the bows, tore towards the airship.

"So the reception is to be held on board the 'Meteor,' eh?" remarked Whittinghame. "I'm sorry I didn't provide an accommodation-ladder. The Admiral may find it rather awkward to swarm up a swaying rope-ladder. Will you see that the after entry-port is opened?"

The officers of the "Meteor" assembled ready to receive the Commander-in-Chief and his staff, while a "guard of honour" stood at attention, to do honour to the distinguished visitor.

Admiral Sir Hardy Staplers--"Old Courteous," as he was nick-named in the Service--was one of the most popular officers of Flag rank. His nickname was an apt one, for he was invariably polite to every one he came in contact with. Nothing seemed to ruffle his composure. He was a strict disciplinarian, and woe betide the subordinate--be he officer or man--who deliberately shirked his duty. On the other hand, he was keenly observant to reward zeal on the part of those under him, but whether admonishing or praising he was uniformly urbane.

Considering his age--for Sir Hardy was bordering on fifty-five--he climbed up the swaying rope-ladder with marvellous agility, and, greeted by the pipe of the bos'n's whistle, he advanced to meet the Captain and owner of the Dreadnought of the Air.

Accompanying the Admiral were his secretary, several officers of the executive and engineering branch, and--to Dacres' satisfaction--Commander Arnold Hythe.

"You have a wonderful craft here," observed Sir Hardy, after the usual courtesies had been exchanged.

"I think we have, sir," replied Whittinghame modestly. "Would you care to look round, or would you rather discuss the business that brought us here?"

The Commander-in-Chief expressed his desire to make an inspection of the "Meteor," and, escorted by his host and followed by their respective officers, Sir Hardy and Whittinghame proceeded on their tour of the airship.

"You are a lucky dog, Dacres," said Hythe, for the two old friends had contrived to "tail off" at the rear of the procession. "So this was the business which you so mysteriously hinted at? Mind you, I'm not envious. The submarine service suits me entirely, but I am glad for your sake. Do you know how Whittinghame proposes to put a stopper on that rascal Durango?"

Dacres shook his head.

"I do not know exactly," he replied. "At any rate, we are waiting till he lands in South America."

"The Scotland Yard men are at a loss to know on what ship he took passage," remarked Hythe. "They made inquiries at the offices of all the steam-ship companies running boats through the Panama Canal, but without success."

"I'm not surprised, old man. Durango was too artful to book by any of those lines. His plan was to make for Pernambuco, and cross to the Pacific coast by the new trans-continental railway. I know that for a fact."

"You do?" asked the Commander surprisedly. "How?"

"Simply by making enquiries at the Brazilian Steamship Company's office. We'll get your plans back again, Hythe, or I'm sadly mistaken in my estimate of the 'Meteor' and her skipper."

The inspection finished, Admiral Sir Hardy Staplers and Whittinghame retired to the latter's private cabin to discuss the proposals for the "Meteor's" future. They were alone for the best part of an hour, and when they rejoined the others both their faces simply beamed with satisfaction.

"President Zaypuru has foolishly played into our hands, Dacres," said Whittinghame, when the Commander-in-Chief and his staff had taken their departure. "An incident has occurred of which, strangely enough, I have hitherto been in ignorance, although I am generally well posted in events taking place in Valderia. Sir Hardy has just informed me that two men belonging to a British trader have been arrested on a trumped-up charge at the port of Zandovar. In spite of the protests of the British Consul the men were taken to Naocuanha and thrown into prison, while His Majesty's representative was most grossly insulted by the President.

"Evidently the Valderians have a poor opinion of British prestige, for their Government refused to apologize. Knowing the pig-headed obstinacy of Don Diego Zaypuru I am not surprised, but it will end in a declaration of war between Great Britain and Valderia. Of course, although it would hardly admit it, the British Government is glad of the opportunity to strike a blow at that elusive and daring outlaw, Durango."

"How do you think your brother will fare?" asked Dacres.

"That is what is troubling me considerably," replied Whittinghame. "If there is a rupture and a fleet is sent to chastise the Republic, Zaypuru may, and probably will, make reprisals. It may be taken for granted, however, that the President will go gently until Durango is back at Naocuanha. Our plan will be to act promptly at the very first intimation of hostilities, liberate my brother Gerald and capture Durango before the Valderians are aware of the presence of the 'Meteor' on the west side of the Sierras. Sir Hardy approves of my plan, and has promised to get official concurrence from the Admiralty; so everything will be square and above board."

"Are we remaining here long, sir?" asked Setchell, who, being the officer of the watch, had all his work cut out to refuse repeated requests for the occupants of the swarm of small craft to be shown over the airship. Whittinghame's orders were adamant. No one was to be allowed on board on any pretext whatsoever. Nevertheless, in spite of the heroic efforts of the water-police, the crowd of boats lay thickly round the "Meteor," their crews patiently waiting for the huge airship to resume its voyage, or else clamouring to be allowed on board.

"For why?" asked the skipper.

"Well, sir, the crowd is getting a bit out of hand. There are some fellows hammering away at the side. They'll be chopping bits off as souvenirs, I'm thinking, or else painting advertisements on the hull. And what is more, sir, there's a reporter sitting on the after horizontal plane on the port side. He cannot climb up, and he declines to budge until he's had an interview with you."

"Oh, I'll see about that," said Whittinghame grimly. "Come aft, Dacres, and let us see what this enterprising member of the Press is like."

The fellow was evidently not lacking in pluck and determination, for he had coolly passed a length of rope round the plane with the deliberate intention of "sitting tight."

"Hulloa, sir!" he sung out as Whittinghame made his way out upon the platform above the propeller-guard. "I represent the 'Weekly Lyre.' I've asked half a dozen times to be allowed on board to interview you."

"You are as much on board as you can reasonably expect to be," replied Whittinghame genially. "You are trespassing, you know. I shall be greatly obliged if you will go back to your boat, as we are about to move. I haven't time for an interview." "Then I'll wait," replied the man, to the great delight of the crowd of spectators afloat. "I'll have the distinction of being the first man, apart from your crew, to experience a flight in your airship, sir. Here I stick."

"You'll be blown away if you remain there."

"I risk that," replied the reporter imperturbably. "I'll lash myself on."

"Have the goodness to go," said Whittinghame with a faint show of annoyance.

The man shook his head. He had the appearance of being a resolute sort of individual.

Without another word Whittinghame walked to the after motor-room and gave orders for the propellers to be started easy ahead. Then he went outside, fully expecting to find the man gone.

At the first sign of movement the dense pack of boats had given back, but the pressman still stuck to his precarious post.

"There's pluck for you," commented the skipper. "That's the sort of man we could very well do with. But I'm not going to be balked. Just wait here for a few minutes, Dacres, and watch developments. Telephone to me when he's gone, and then take care to get inside and close the sliding panel as sharp as you can."

"He's lashed himself on, by Jove!" said Dacres.

"It will be a case of suicide if he's there when we gather speed," rejoined Whittinghame. "The sharp edge of the plane will cut through that lashing as if it were a piece of worsted."

With that the Captain went aft, leaving Dacres on the platform to report the course of events.

In response to an order the after hawsers were cast off, while the crew stood by ready to let go the for'ard springs that alone held the "Meteor" head to wind.

Suddenly Dacres saw the horizontal plane dip into an almost vertical position. The unfortunate reporter slid until brought up by the rope. For a few moments he hung there, struggling frantically to gain a foothold upon the smooth surface. His efforts only caused the rope to chafe through on the sharp edge of the plane and with a splash he fell into the sea.

Quickly rising to the surface he struck out for the nearest boat, amid the laughter of the onlookers, while Dacres, mindful of his warning, returned to the shelter of the outer envelope.

Whittinghame was about to give the order to let go for'ard when Callaghan entered the navigation-room.

"Wireless just come through, sir," he announced.

"Important?"

"Yes, sir," said the man gravely.

Half dreading that it was bad news from Naocuanha the Captain took the proffered paper.

The message was not from Valderia, but from the Admiralty. Its wording was indeed serious:--

"To Captain Whittinghame, airship 'Meteor.' Advises from British Polar Expedition state that communication with Lieutenant Cardyke has been interrupted for forty-eight hours. Feared disaster has overtaken party. Is 'Meteor' capable of rescue?"

Whittinghame turned to the operator.

"Reply, 'Yes; will proceed at once,'" he said.