Chapter XVI: Over a Volcano

If ever a man felt like kicking himself it was Arnold Hythe at that moment. He had missed his appointment; and in Captain Restronguet's eyes he would be regarded as a waster devoid of any sense of honour or gratitude.

"Have you seen anything of two divers?" he asked, addressing the crowd that lingered about the landing; for, though the time fixed for his departure had been kept a secret, a curious throng had loitered there nearly all day.

"Yes," shouted a dozen voices in chorus, and amid a babel of vociferations the sub contrived to gain the information that they had appeared quite half an hour ago, had waited ten minutes and had disappeared.

"Are you quite sure they went before six?" asked Hythe.

"Perfectly sure, sir, it was exactly ten minutes to six when they went down," replied a sailor confidently.

Then the thought flashed across his mind, perhaps Captain Restronguet had purposely marooned him? An instant later he banished the suggestion, yet why should Kenwyn and Gwennap have returned before the appointed time?

Hythe resolved to wait and see if anything fresh transpired. The crowd increased, several naval officers and dockyard officials mingling in the throng. Presently the Admiral came down and asked if he should order anything to be done to attract the "Aphrodite's" attention.

"They may come back even yet, sir," replied the sub. "I'll wait a little longer."

"If you hear nothing by seven you may as well have dinner at Admiralty House, Mr. Hythe," observed the Admiral.

Just at that moment two men in uniform arrived carrying Hythe's trunk. The thief had been caught and was under lock and key.

"That's something to be thankful for," soliloquized the sub. "To lose one's belongings and one's ship at one time is a bit too thick."

A sudden shout of exclamations from the crowd caused him to turn and look towards the slide of the Mole. Like a huge porpoise the twin conning-towers and flat deck of the "Aphrodite" appeared upon the surface, the water pouring in cascades from her smooth substance. As easily as a ship's pinnace she ran alongside the steps, her after-hatch was thrown open and Captain Restronguet appeared.

"Come on, Mr. Hythe!" he exclaimed.

The sub waited for no second bidding. With a bound he gained the Upper Platform, and turned and saluted the astonished Admiral. Having seen his belongings passed on board he followed his host below.

Fifty seconds later the dense crowd of spectators were gazing dumfounded at the unbroken wavelets. For the first time had human eyes, other than those of her crew, seen the redoubtable "Aphrodite" at close quarters above the surface of her natural element.

* * * * *

"Yes, I was certainly surprised when Kenwyn returned with the news that you were not at the rendezvous, Mr. Hythe," said Captain Restronguet. "Then the thought suddenly struck me."

"What thought, sir?"

"Might I ask what time you went by?"

"The local time; my watch had stopped. By Jove! I see what happened. Gib. time is 21 minutes 28 seconds slower than Greenwich."

"Just so. I guessed the mistake arose that way; so, as a considerable amount of precious time would be wasted in sending Kenwyn and Gwennap ashore again, I took the unusual course of bringing the 'Aphrodite' right alongside the New Mole. It will give the Scorpions something to talk about."

"And the naval authorities as well, sir. The Admiral was there."

"Now we are off as hard as we can pelt for the Eastern Mediterranean. I mean to keep at good depth till clear of the patrols of the Straits. The 'Vorwartz' is reported in the Black Sea, so I suppose the Russians will get excited. Anyway, I hope to be able to arrive in the AEgean Sea and intercept Herr Karl von Harburg as he returns through the Dardanelles."

Night had fallen ere the "Aphrodite" rounded Europa Point, and with the favouring east-going current was well beyond the cruising ground of the British submarines.

Two days later she was between Cape Bon on the Tunisian shore and the western extremity of Sicily. Captain Restronguet had, in view of recent developments, decided not to touch at Malta, but proceed as fast as he could to Grecian waters, where he hoped to be able to replenish his accumulators and be in a state of readiness for his hated rival.

Hythe had retired to his bunk. He had had a heavy day in the conning-tower, where, in reply to his host's invitation, he had stood a watch in order to acquaint himself with the delicate organization of electrical mechanism that controlled the submarine.

The "Aphrodite" had been running on the surface during the day, but to obviate the risk of being struck by passing vessels she was submerged to nine fathoms at sunset.

Suddenly the sub found himself struggling on the steeply listing floor of his cabin. The place was in utter darkness. All around him were weird noises caused by various articles breaking adrift, mingled with the shouts of the alarmed crew, while from without came an awe-inspiring rumble.

Struggling to his feet the sub groped for the electric light switch. The current was off. More and more became the list till his feet slipped from under him, and he fell into the angle formed by the floor and the fore and aft bulkhead of the cabin. Above the noise he could distinguish the captain's voice shouting for the emergency ballast tanks to be emptied.

"Good heavens! She's been struck. We're done for this time," exclaimed Hythe, with lively recollections of the ill-fated "La Flamme" fresh in his memory. He gained his feet and made for the door, but ere he could fling it open the "Aphrodite" spun round as if pivoted amidships. Full length went the sub once more, his hands grasping the knob of the door, which had come off in the strain. The racket of the shifting gear was redoubled. Every moment Hythe expected the enormous pressure of water, since he was fully certain that the vessel was plunging downwards, would burst in the sides of the submarine.

Another nerve-racking twist and the "Aphrodite" began to dip her bows till this time the sub found his sliding movement checked by the fore and aft bulkhead. Then, with a rattle and clank of her complicated machinery, the propellers began to race, while the vessel danced about like a gigantic cork. Instead of plunging down the submarine had been raised to the surface, and was being tossed about on the crests of an angry sea.

After considerable trouble Hythe succeeded in opening the door. Outside in the alley-way all was in darkness. He groped his way towards the fore conning-tower, staggering against the metal wall with each abnormal heave of the vessel. Before he had traversed many feet he came into violent contact with a man whom he recognized by his voice as the chief officer.

"What's up, Devoran?" he asked.

"Heaven only knows, Mr. Hythe. Until we get the light switched on it will be difficult to find out. One thing, we are afloat, and riding easily."

"Much too easily for my liking," remarked Hythe, although he felt considerably reassured that the "Aphrodite" had risen.

"Where are you going?" asked Devoran.

"To the for'ard conning-tower."

"No use," replied the chief officer laconically. "All principal watertight doors are closed. Captain's for'ard. Best to go to the after conning-tower if you want to see anything. I left Kenwyn there."

The sub made for the steel ladder communicating with Kenwyn's post, and as he did so he heard Devoran raise the flap of the hatchway to the motor-room and ask Carclew what in the name of Pontius Pilate's grandmother was the matter with the light?

"Plug fused, sir. I am replacing it," shouted Carclew.

"Then for goodness' sake hurry up!" replied the chief officer.

Hythe found Kenwyn staring out of the scuttle at nothing. It was so pitch dark that without the conning-tower everything seemed an impenetrable mass of darkness--sea and sky a chaos of invisibility. All the while the submarine was pitching and tossing like an empty barrel.

"That you, Mr. Hythe," exclaimed the second officer, unmistakably glad to have some one to speak to. "Isn't this a set-to? I don't know what can be happening."

Just then a brilliant flash of lightning played upon the turmoil of broken water without. In the pale-blue glare it seemed as if the surface of the angry sea was one expanse of tall, steep waves--an exaggerated tidal race.

"Ah, that's better," ejaculated Hythe, as the hiss of incoming water could be faintly distinguished above the hammering of the waves against the "Aphrodite's" sides and upon her deck. "We're diving once more."

At twelve fathoms the motion, though still erratic, became less marked, and the condition of things was vastly improved when the electric light was once more connected up.

Every available search-light was switched on, and as the powerful beams were directed through the scuttles Hythe and Kenwyn gave a simultaneous exclamation of surprise. Eddying through the water as far as the rays of light could penetrate were columns of smoke mingled with bubbles full of gaseous vapour. Now and again dark masses would shoot upwards with the velocity of a meteor.

"A submarine eruption, by Jove!" declared Hythe. "We're over the mouth of a submerged crater. That accounts for the earthquake shocks in Malta and elsewhere. Those black objects we see whizzing by must be lumps of lava."

Kenwyn placed his hand upon the side of the conning-tower. The metal felt quite warm to his touch. The thermometer registered eighty-five degrees.

"We'll be boiled alive if this lasts," he exclaimed. "The sea must be quite hot. Ah! that's better," he added, as the propellers began to revolve. "We ought to get out of this natural saucepan as soon as possible."

Just then Captain Restronguet's voice was heard at the telephone inquiring if Mr. Hythe were in the conning-tower.

"He is, sir," replied Kenwyn.

"Ask him to step this way. The watertight doors are now open."

"Have you noticed the sudden rise of temperature, Mr. Hythe?" asked the captain when the sub reached the fore conning-tower. "You have? I thought you would. We've had a most unusual experience; we have passed almost over the mouth of a submarine volcano at the moment of an eruption. The 'Aphrodite' was almost drawn into the vortex caused by the rush of water to fill the cavity formed by the expelled lava from the crater."

"I wonder if another island has been created, sir?"

"If there has been the 'Aphrodite' has narrowly escaped being left high and dry upon it, Mr. Hythe. It was in the last century that an island suddenly appeared almost in this latitude and longitude. The British, I believe, claimed it and so did the Italians; but before the question of ownership was decided the island settled the matter by disappearing. If----"

"Look ahead, sir!" exclaimed the quartermaster in horrified tones.

The water was now slightly less smoke-laden, and the two for'ard search-lights made a tolerable clear path for nearly a hundred yards ahead. Into that double ray of light came the hull of a sinking vessel. It was sinking stern foremost with a slight list to starboard. Hythe recognized the type of craft, a Sicilian fishing-boat. Her mast had snapped off about three feet above the deck, while her lateen sail, extended by the upward tendency of the wooden yard was almost as rigid as a sheet of metal. Lashed to the tiller was the helmsman--a dark-skinned, curly-haired Italian. The sub could even distinguish his gold ear-rings. The poor fellow was still struggling desperately yet aimlessly, for he made no effort to cast off the rope that bound him to his post of duty. His hands clutched wildly at the yielding water. Amidships were two other men, similarly secured, but they were evidently already drowned since they were making no attempt to save themselves.

But for a brief instant did the distressing vision last, for with a quick movement the quartermaster placed the helm hard over, the "Aphrodite" swerved, and the parallel beams shone upon a waste of unbroken water.

Captain Restronguet muttered something under his breath.

"Can nothing be done to save them?" asked Hythe.

The captain shook his head.

"Nothing," he replied deliberately. "Nothing. Had there been a ghost of a chance we would have taken the risk."

For several moments the occupants of the conning-tower stood in silence, gazing fixedly at the chaos of water before their eyes. By this time the "Aphrodite" had passed the influence of the eruption, for she no longer rolled and plunged on her submarine course.

"The danger is now over, Mr. Hythe," said Captain Restronguet at length. "Perhaps you would care to resume your bed? I am afraid that everything is in a fearful mess 'tween decks, though."

"It is lucky for us it is no worse, sir. For the moment I----"

A dull thud upon the deck of the submarine caused the sub's remarks to remain incompleted. The shock literally caused the "Aphrodite" to reel.

"Bring her up, sir, bring her up!" exclaimed Devoran's voice at the telephone. Captain Restronguet did not wait for an explanation. Ordering the quartermaster to trim the horizontal rudders he himself pressed the lever controlling the emergency ballast tanks. Up rose the submarine, though not with her accustomed rapidity, and soon she was pounding sluggishly in the still agitated sea that swept her fore and aft and washed over on all sides.

"A craft of sorts has foundered right on top of us, sir," continued the chief officer. "There are men still alive in her--or, at least, I fancy so."

Captain Restronguet and Hythe waited to hear no more. Leaving the conning-tower in charge of the quartermaster they rushed off to where Devoran was stationed. The fore-scuttle of the rearward conning-tower was obstructed by the bulky quivering hull of a large fishing-vessel. She was lying on her port bilges, her keel being wedged in between the deck and the base of the conning-tower, but so insecure was her balance that every movement of the "Aphrodite" in the furious sea threatened to slide her once more into the depths.

"Are the men still there?" asked Captain Restronguet.

"They were, sir, when she settled on our deck."

The sound of the concussion had brought the rest of the crew aft, and in a crowd they stood at the foot of the steps leading to the tower. The captain leant over the circular aperture and hailed them.

"Men," said he, "who will take the risk and venture outside?"

A dozen voices replied in the affirmative, even that of Gwennap, the non-swimmer.

"You, Polglaze, and you, Lancarrow. A couple of life-lines there, and two men to tend them."

Quickly Polglaze and Lancarrow sprang up the ladder and entered the conning-tower.

"There's a boat or small craft lying across our deck," explained Captain Restronguet. "I believe there are some of her crew still aboard. I want you to investigate, and should there be any men bring them back."

Deftly the two members of the "Aphrodite's" crew secured the life-lines round their waists. Devoran unlocked the lid of the aperture in the conning-tower. As the hatch opened a wave burst through, flooding the floor to a depth of two inches--the height of the coaming round the trap-door leading to the Number Two Platform. Before a second wave had time to add to the mischief already Polglaze and Lancarrow were battling their way up the shelving, slippery sides of the stranded vessel. To gain her deck there were no other means, for her keel extended far beyond the side of the submarine. Twice Lancarrow slipped, but aided by his companion, who was already astride the fishing-boat's shattered bulwarks he succeeded in scaling the wall of wood.

Just then a heavy sea came inboard. The wrecked craft rocked, seemed on the point of lurching once more into the depths, when a correcting heel of the "Aphrodite" saved the situation and the lives of the two heroes.

Peering through the almost closed hatch Devoran and Hythe saw Polglaze slide down the boat's hull, grasping what looked like a bundle of clothing in his arms.

"Keep a strain on the life-line," ordered the chief officer. "Smartly now--haul away."

Another sea flooded the deck and swirled past the base of the conning-tower. The strain on Polglaze's life-line was enormous, but fortunately the rope was a sound one. As the smother of foam subsided Polglaze's face appeared at the almost closed hatchway.

"Here you are, sir," he exclaimed breathlessly. Hythe and the first officer instantly opened the lid, and the bundle--the body of a boy about ten years of age--was thrust into their arms. Ere another wave hurled itself upon the rescuer Polglaze was safe within the conning-tower.

And now Lancarrow's burly form appeared sitting astride the fishing-craft's bulwarks. He evidently had a weightier burden, for in spite of his efforts the powerful Cornishman could not at first raise it clear of the sides. Thrice he essayed the task and the third time was successful. His burden was the _padrone_ or master of the wrecked craft.

Just then a formidable sea, higher than the rest, came hissing and foaming down upon the submarine. Lancarrow with his back turned to it was unaware of the danger, but both Hythe and Devoran saw it and shouted a warning. Their voices were drowned in the howling and shrieking of the gale.

With a smother of hissing foam the wave burst. Lancarrow, still grasping his burden, was hurled from the bulwarks and thrown upon the "Aphrodite's" deck. The same wave sent the fishing-boat back into the depths, thus depriving Lancarrow of the slight shelter hitherto afforded by the hull, and hurled him across the slippery deck. Fortunately he was not stunned by the impact and did not relinquish his hold of the man he had rescued, while the life-line saved both from being washed overboard.

Realizing the danger Hythe fastened round his own waist the rope that Polglaze had cast off, and bidding Kenwyn and Devoran to open the hatch, he dashed to the aid of the rescuer and rescued.

Another wave flung him back just as he was on the point of gripping Lancarrow round the chest. The rush of water swept all three against the conning-tower. The slack of the life-lines were hauled in, and the receding water left them close to the hatchway.

"I've got him," spluttered the sub, as he laid hold of the unconscious Italian. "You look after yourself, Lancarrow."

With a heave Hythe lifted the _padrone_ within reach of those within the conning-tower, the Cornishman followed, and by a display of remarkable yet undignified agility the sub succeeded in gaining safety ere a tremendous breaker hurled itself in vain against the massive metal plating.

The "Aphrodite" was quickly submerged to a depth of nine fathoms and driven ahead at a modest seven knots, while steps were taken to restore the rescued man and boy to life. It did not take long for the latter to open his eyes, but in the case of the old man three hours of unremitting toil failed to give any sign of success. More than once Hythe shook his head doubtfully, but Captain Restronguet had no intention of admitting defeat. As fast as one of the operators showed signs of fatigue another took his place in their efforts to restore the action of breathing.

After exactly three hours and ten minutes' steady work the old Italian showed signs of respiration.

"We've managed it," exclaimed Kenwyn joyfully, in the tone of a man who has fought a hard struggle and has won the victory.

"Avast there!" ordered the captain to Gwennap who was still pressing and relaxing the pressure on the patient's body. "Watch him carefully."

But in less than a minute the natural breathing ceased, and the efforts to restore respiration had to be renewed. It was not until half an hour later that the _padrone_ was able to be put to bed and allowed to sleep, Kenwyn and Hythe volunteering to stand by and keep a watch over the patient.

It was now daylight. The fury of the waves had abated, and only a long sullen roll served as a reminder of the terrific agitation of the sea a few hours previously.

Captain Restronguet, therefore, decided to bring the "Aphrodite" to the surface, so that the loss of time during the period when the submarine was in the zone of the volcanic disturbance could be made good.

"The deck looks different to me, sir," remarked the quartermaster when Captain Restronguet entered the conning-tower. "I've noticed it ever since it grew light."

"How do you mean different?" asked the captain going towards one of the scuttles. A moment later he shouted to the chief officer.

"Hurry up and open the fore-hatch, Mr. Devoran, if you please. We're in for a run of bad luck, it seems."

Well might Captain Restronguet exclaim thus, for instead of the protective garb of light absorbing metal the submarine from stem to stern and from the top of the conning-tower to the keel was as black as a lump of coal.