Chapter XIII: The Missing Submarine

When Arnold Hythe recovered consciousness he found himself lying on his bunk in the cabin that had been appropriated to his use. The scuttle was closed, an electric light was burning, and by the slight and peculiar oscillation of the vessel he knew that the "Aphrodite" was running submerged.

He was not alone. Sitting at the head of his bunk was Kenwyn, the second officer. He was reading a book, but hearing the sub move he replaced the volume on a shelf and asked Hythe how he felt.

"Not quite up to the mark, thanks. But what am I doing here? Ah, I remember. Have you got Gwennap safe on board?"

"Yes, thanks chiefly to you. He's still unconscious. Devoran told me he saw you knock the nonsense out of him, By Jove! I shouldn't like a blow like that."

"I hope I didn't hit him too hard?" asked the sub anxiously.

"Too hard? Not much. He's as tough as nails, and he thoroughly deserved to have his figure-head damaged. He is the only member of the ship's company who cannot swim, and the captain has been trying to get the fellow to learn for a long time past. But you are a plucky fellow, Hythe."

"Where are we making for now?" asked Hythe, seeking to change an embarrassing subject. "Has the propeller-shafting been cleared yet?"

"We're making for the North coast of Spain: Machichaco Bay, to be exact--a place a short distance to the east'ard of Cape Villano. You see, the rising sea and Gwennap's accident interrupted the work in hand, so Captain Restronguet, rather than put into any of the harbours on the French Biscayan coast, has decided to make for Machichaco Bay, where there are excellent facilities for repairing the damage without fear of interruption. We are running with only the port propeller, that gives us barely twelve knots when submerged, and at that rate we expect to sight land about mid day on Thursday."

"Is Captain Restronguet going to beach the 'Aphrodite' at half tide?" asked Hythe.

"Rather not. No, our repairs will be carried out on the floor of the bay, where we shall be unseen by every one. But don't talk any more at present. Drink this and try to go to sleep."

"But I don't want to go to sleep," expostulated Hythe.

"Very well, then, don't, only drink this. It will buck you up."

The sub took the glass proffered by the wily Kenwyn, and drained it at a gulp. Within three minutes he was sleeping peacefully.

When Hythe awoke again after an eight hour's sleep all traces of his strenuous exertions had vanished. He tubbed, dressed in his own clothes, which had meanwhile been dried and pressed, and went down to breakfast in the captain's cabin.

Captain Restronguet greeted his guest warmly, until Hythe felt quite uncomfortable at the praises bestowed upon him for his act of gallantry. Once more he succeeded in changing the subject, this time by asking if any news had been received of the "Vorwartz."

"Nothing that will give us definite information as to where she is making for," replied Captain Restronguet. "But from my British agent I have had news that Karl von Harburg has been declared a pirate by the Great Powers and by several lesser maritime states as well, and that war vessels are authorized to capture or destroy the 'Vorwartz' without compunction. I fancy, however, that that part of the business will be left to us."

"You mean to track him down?"

"Through the five oceans, if needs must. But for the time being we are put out of the running. Have you ever been to the north coast of Spain, Mr. Hythe?"

"Yes, to Bilbao, Santander, and Coruna; but it was two years ago, when I was in the old 'Alacrity.'"

"Then you don't know Machichaco Bay?"

"Never heard of it until Mr. Kenwyn mentioned the name to me, sir."

"H'm. Do you remember the disaster to 'La Flamme'?"

"The French submarine that was supposed to have been run down on her way from Rochefort to Toulon?"

"Yes, the Dutch liner 'Huitzens' arrived at Rotterdam about that time with several of her bow plates buckled, and reported she had been in collision with an unknown object thirty miles off Cape Finisterre. The theory was advanced and generally accepted that the liner ran down the French submarine."

"And didn't she? Do you know anything about it?" asked Hythe interestedly.

"I think I can show you certain evidence before many more days are passed. Ha, Devoran, what is it?"

"Cape Machichaco in sight, sir."

"Very good. We'll go to the fore conning-tower, Mr. Hythe. You will then be able to see how we con the 'Aphrodite' into this somewhat intricate roadstead."

The submarine was now running at a little less than eight knots and at thirty-five feet below the surface. The electrically operated periscope with its flexible attachments was in operation, and by looking at the object-board the sub could discern what appeared to be a range of hills, above which a remarkably-shaped peak towered to a considerable height. Close to the edge of the cliffs could be seen a circular lighthouse and the keeper's house, both painted white. Some little distance from the cape two forbidding looking rocks reared their gaunt black heads above the sea, while between these rocks and the shore was a tumbling mass of white foam.

"Is that the cape? Where, then, is the bay?" asked Hythe.

"It is hardly recognizable from the distance. There it lies--away to the east'ard. A point to starboard, quartermaster--gently does it--so."

Slowly and steadily the "Aphrodite" approached the desired anchorage. Through the starboard observation scuttle the sub saw vicious-looking rocks more than once, rising boldly from the bottom of the sea at less than twenty yards off. Between them were cavernous depths that could only be compared to an American canyon suddenly submerged in a tremendous flood.

While the quartermaster kept the "Aphrodite" on her course Captain Restronguet directed all his attention to the submarine cliffs. Hythe could hear him counting as the dangerous rocks appeared to slip by.

"Hard a port."

Round swung the "Aphrodite" till her bows pointed straight for a narrow gap in the rocks. The sub stood aghast. Surely it was courting disaster to plunge into a submarine defile, so dark and so narrow that it seemed an impossibility for her to pass without touching the jagged pinnacles on either hand?

The gauge now showed a depth of fifty-five feet. At a sign from the captain, Kenwyn touched a switch and instantly two parallel beams of brilliant light flashed from the sides of the conning-tower. As far as the beams penetrated nothing but water could be seen, but in the reflected light on either hand the ghost-like rocks flitted past in a seemingly endless procession. The "Aphrodite" was threading an intricate passage between the dangerous shoals of Machichaco Bay.

Suddenly a weed-covered crag, looking like a pillar of glistening silver, came within the zone of the port search-light. A slight touch at the helm and the "Aphrodite" swung round, clearing the danger with comparative ease. On and on she went, literally crawling and smelling her way through that forbidding channel.

Presently Captain Restronguet touched Hythe upon the shoulder.

"Look!" said he, at the same time switching on a supplementary search-light that, instead of playing in a fore and aft direction, threw its beam at right angles to the submarine's course. For less than ten seconds the captain kept the light switched on, but in that short interval the sub saw something that made the blood run cold in his veins.

Perched upon a flat rock so insecurely that it seemed as if the faint "wash" from the "Aphrodite" would topple it over, was a regularly-shaped mass literally covered with barnacles and plentifully festooned with trailing seaweed. But even these disguises Hythe could penetrate: there was no mistaking the tapering stern, the horizontal and vertical rudders, and the twin screws of a standard type of submarine.

"'La Flamme,'" announced Captain Restronguet, at the same time raising his right hand to the salute in honour of the brave dead, an example that Hythe promptly followed.

A little farther and the twin search-lights played upon a solid barrier of rock, extending from side to side of the submerged gulley.

Placing the engine-room indicator to half-speed astern Captain Restronguet waited till the "Aphrodite's" way was checked; then turning to Mr. Devoran he nodded his head significantly.

Immediately the chief officer opened the valves of the subsidiary ballast tanks and the "Aphrodite" sank vertically to a depth of sixty-five feet beneath the surface, and rested firmly upon the sand on the bed of Machichaco Bay.

The sub glanced at his watch. Notwithstanding the fact that he had been wearing it when he dived overboard to the rescue of the man Gwennap it had sustained no damage whatsoever from its immersion. He was surprised to find that it was nine o'clock. Nearly an hour had elapsed since the submarine had first entered the tortuous defile.

"We cannot do more until daylight," announced Captain Restronguet, as soon as the patent anchors had obtained a firm hold in the sand. During the navigation of the "Aphrodite" through the dangerous channel he had been constrained; his whole attention had to be concentrated on his work, but now his usual willingness to impart information returned.

The search-lights, now no longer necessary, were switched off, so that no belated fishing-boat might have occasion to report the presence of a mysterious phosphorescence in the depths of the bay; and having received reassuring reports from various parts of the vessel the captain intimated that the somewhat long-delayed dinner would prove acceptable.

"I discovered this channel quite by accident," said the captain, during the progress of the meal. "We put in here on our way north, since the nautical directories state that here the currents run with great velocity. This step was necessary since our accumulators were rather run down and I particularly wished to have a good reserve of power for our run across the bay and up the English Channel. Of course, in a 'blind alley' such as we are in now, there are no eddies or currents to trouble us. I was looking for a good sheltered berth, for as far as we could see through the observation plate in the bottom of the vessel there was nothing but jagged rocks. We were moving very slowly, at twenty feet below the surface, when Mylor shouted that we were passing over a submarine. I at once thought that we were about to be attacked by the 'Vorwartz,' but Mylor promptly supplemented his first assertion by saying that the craft was a wreck."

"You say it is 'La Flamme,' sir"? asked Hythe. "How, then, is the fact to be accounted for that she was run down off Cape Finisterre?"

"She never was," replied Captain Restronguet calmly. "That was a statement based upon suggestions made by the liner's crew. No doubt they cut something down. The state of her bows proved that; but it was more likely that of a derelict or else perhaps an unfortunate fishing-vessel. Well, we found the channel, and by carefully feeling our way out, came to the current that served our purpose admirably."

"It is a tricky piece of navigation," remarked the sub.

"Not so much as one would think. You observed the two forward search-lights? Their beams are not exactly parallel, but slightly diverging. So long as the water illuminated by them is unobstructed I know that the 'Aphrodite' is safe. Directly any dangerous object comes within the field of light I know that it lies in the vessel's course, and have to alter helm accordingly."

"Did you examine the wrecked submarine?" asked Hythe.

"Yes; a brief external examination, but enough to satisfy me that it was 'La Flamme,' and also the manner in which she met her fate. To-morrow, while the repairs are being undertaken, I propose to make a fairly lengthy examination, both external and internal. Perhaps you would like to accompany me."

"I should, sir, with pleasure," replied Hythe.

"I warn you that the sight will not be a pleasant one. In fact, were it not for a definite purpose, I would hesitate to undertake the interior examination."

"I have seen a few gruesome things during the comparatively short time I have been in the Service, sir."

"Very well, then. I mean to write out a report and forward it to the French Government. Perhaps you will be so kind as to endorse it with your signature and rank? I have already mentioned that I regard myself as a humanitarian. I hope the report and the suggestions I make will go a long way towards abolishing submarine warfare."

"Abolish submarine warfare?" exclaimed Hythe, astonished at the suggestion, that to him--a naval officer, who had qualified in submarine work--was utterly absurd.

"Certainly," resumed his host. "With all due respect to the Geneva Convention its work is performed in a very slipshod manner. You are not allowed by international restrictions to poison wells, or use explosive bullets; yet you are permitted to employ enormous shells, mines, torpedoes, submarines, bombs from aircraft and a host of the most devilish ingenuities that civilized men can devise for the destruction of their fellow-beings. Which would you prefer, Mr. Hythe, to be quickly and painlessly poisoned when slaking your thirst on the field of battle, or to be horribly mutilated by fragments of a shell, and remain, perhaps for years, a misery to yourself and your fellows?"

The sub shook his head.

"By eliminating certain means of offence you reduce the limits of the horrors of war."

"Of the means only, the horrors of war will never be mitigated until the ban upon explosive shells, submarine, and aerial offence and defence is imposed. Thus I maintain that the Geneva Conference has only taken a middle course. Better by far to place no limitations and make war so horrible that no nation will dare draw the sword; or else restrict the weapons of offence to solid armour-piercing shells for naval warfare, small calibre rifle bullets and cold steel. To my mind submarine warfare, including torpedo work, is a despicable form of destruction."

"Yet you yourself are bent upon an errand of destruction by means of your submarine."

"Precisely. And it is the same in international warfare, because A builds a submarine, B must do likewise, in order to fight upon equal terms. But wait until to-morrow. When you have explored 'La Flamme' perhaps you may see eye to eye with me."

"What caused the disaster, sir?" asked Hythe.

"For the present I prefer not to answer that question," was the reply. "To-morrow I think I can explain more clearly."

After breakfast on the following morning a strong working-party, under the direction of the chief officer, prepared to tackle the task of freeing the propeller. Clad in their diving suits the men entered the air-lock and thence slipped out into the sea. Soon the hull resounded to the rasping of the hack-saws as the men attacked the hempen rope that was coiled tightly round the shafting.

"Are you ready, Mr. Hythe?" asked the captain.

The sub assented, and Captain Restronguet led the way for'ard to the divers' dressing-room. On the way he stopped, and asked his companion to accompany him to the after-conning-tower.

The sun was now shining brightly, and even at that depth the luminosity was sufficient to enable the interior of the conning-tower to be seen without the aid of artificial light.

"It is now nine o'clock," remarked Captain Restronguet. "On what quarter ought the sun to be visible at this hour?"

"South-east," replied Hythe promptly.

"Now look at its bearing according to our standard compass."

"Why, it bears south-west."

"Exactly. Now that explains the loss of 'La Flamme.' Practically the whole of this coast contains vast quantities of iron ore, and the deviation of the compass at this particular spot amounts to as much as ninety degrees. The north-west coast of Spain is bad enough in this respect. You may have heard of the loss of the 'Serpent,' several years ago. That was attributed to magnetic influence of the iron ore upon the ship's compass. Here the error is still greater. It is easy to understand that the unfortunate submarine, getting within the fatal influence of the magnetic attraction, ran full tilt upon the rocks in a heavy sea and on a pitch-dark night. But we will now prepare for our submarine walk."

In the dressing-room were Kenwyn, Carnon the quartermaster, and O'Shaunessey, who were also to form the party. The Irishman was somewhat doubtfully examining the dress and helmet served out to him. Anything that was not "regulation" he regarded with suspicion.

"Buck up, O'Shaunessey!" said the quartermaster. "Here's the cap'n; and you're not ready yet."

"Sure, I'm ready," replied the Irishman. "But can't I have me own dress?"

"You'll be sorry for yourself if you do," said Captain Restronguet who had overheard O'Shaunessey's remark. "Before you've gone fifty yards you will feel as if you're squashed between the jaws of a vice."

"You see," he added, turning to Hythe, "the air in a diving-dress fitted with an air-tube is kept under a fairly good pressure; with ours, the air supply being self-contained, only a very slight pressure is maintained. We rely upon the stiffening bands in the flexible metal fabric to withstand the exterior pressure of the water."

Having donned their diving garb, Polglaze served out to each man a small electric lamp. Captain Restronguet and Hythe both carried a steel crowbar, Kenyon a long adjustable spanner, while Carnon and O'Shaunessey took axes. The quartermaster was also equipped with a slate for writing messages, that being the only form of definite communication under water.

As soon as the five men entered the air-lock the water was admitted. When the compartment was full Captain Restronguet thrust back a couple of levers and a portion of the exterior plating of the hull was pushed aside. From the sill of this aperture to the bed of the sea was a drop of nearly ten feet. Unhesitatingly the captain leapt and sank upon a sandy floor, where he was joined by his companions.

Hythe found that walking in this form of dress was far easier than plodding along in the orthodox diving-suit in use in the British Navy. The absence of life-line and air-tube, with their attendant drag upon the diver, was particularly noticeable.

A short halt was made to examine the progress of the work upon the damaged propeller. Already the men had made a fair show with the job, but, as the sub had predicted, every strand had to be carefully cut through and prised up. Under the best conditions it would require another three hours of arduous labour to free the shafting from the obstruction.

At that depth the light was strong enough to see nearly twenty yards ahead, and Hythe was struck with the peculiar formation of the submarine gorge. It was as if human hands had hewn out a deep and narrow passage through the solid rock, here and there cutting side tunnels that faded away in the distant gloom. Fantastic marine growths occurred in patches that had to be carefully avoided, for some of the tendrils were armed with crooked spikes, sufficiently strong and sharp to do untold damage to any diver who was incautious enough to get into their toils. At other places fern-like weeds growing to a height of ten feet made the floor of the bay resemble a tropical-forest. Sponges grew in profusion; oyster-shells, a yard in diameter, were occasionally met with. Once O'Shaunessey's foot narrowly escaped being seized by the gaping jaws of one of these bivalves. A second later and his limb would have been crushed to a pulp.

As the five advanced crabs large and small swarmed sideways across their path to seek shelter amongst the rocks; fish in shoals darted from the unwonted sight of the diving-dresses, although a few, bolder or more stupid than the rest, swam quite close to the submarine pedestrians.

Presently the passage bifurcated, both arms shooting off at a very narrow angle. Unhesitatingly Captain Restronguet took the left. All the same Hythe wondered what would happen if they lost their way, for there was nothing whereby he could distinguish one way from another.

Stopping at one of the branch passages Captain Restronguet pointed towards it, then switching on his lamp began to clear away through the seaweed that grew to a height of nearly twenty feet. Hythe followed, tit was like pushing aside a Japanese curtain, for the flexible tendrils closed behind him.

The belt of weed was comparatively narrow; less than five yards brought the men to a close sandy space. Here the sub stopped. Right in front of him, and hidden from the natural light by a thick canopy of weeds, were the jagged, barnacle-encrusted timbers of a ship.

She was lying slightly over to starboard, but the list was enough to cause her double tier of guns to fall through the rotting planks. Her bowsprit had been carried away close to the gammoning; of her masts only two shattered stumps remained. Waterlogged cordage and sails trailed dolefully over her sloping deck, while her figurehead--that of a woman holding a rod--was just recognizable in its decay.

At each step, careful though they were, Hythe and his companions kicked up a cloud of iron rust, till the scene of desolation was almost blotted out. Of the ship's guns those that were of iron had almost crumbled into flakes of rust, but the brass cannon were in almost as good condition as they were when the wreck was a noble ship. The sub stooped and examined one of the brass pieces of ordnance. Close to the touch hole were the letters L.R. and the date 1692.

"A Frenchman: time of Louis XIV, by Jove!" said the sub to himself. "I wonder what her name is?"

He was on the point of walking towards the stern of the wreck when Captain Restronguet laid a detaining hand on his shoulder and flashed his light upon the rust-discoloured sand. Hythe instantly drew back. Almost under his feet yawned a hole full of trailing weeds that looked for all the world like a pit full of loathsome serpents.

Evidently understanding the reason for his companion's curiosity the captain beckoned to Carclew to approach. Then taking the quartermaster's slate he wrote in bold characters "La Sybille, French treasure-ship, sunk in action, 1695."