"There's not a man alive that's worth a game like this, Black," he cried passionately, indicating the batteries and the black mouths of the guns which threatened us. He might as well have addressed himself to the granite of the forts.
"Why," says the Captain with imperturbable good humour, "you're about a month after the fair, Osbart. You should have said all this before I set out for the Isle of Wight to fetch out a certain doctor friend of mine they'd clapped in a madhouse there. Poor old Ned Jolly wants a better advocate, I'm thinking. There isn't a cleverer gunner in the British Navy, and here he is stuck on sentry-go in a bit of a fort not five miles from hell as the crow flies. Would I leave Ned to the vultures—no, by thunder, not if there were five hundred in yon mouse-trap with him. He was as good a man as ever served me, afloat or ashore, and he's coming this trip if I have to fire the town to get him out. Now, stand by and hold your tongue. Ill hear the rest of it to-morrow."
His tone had become domineering, and when it was that, there were few who had the nerve to contradict Black. I saw that both the daring and the humour of the situation had gripped him, and that nothing short of a miracle would break the spell. He was going to the fort to get out an old comrade of the famous days, and he did not reckon the risks of the venture. When next he spoke it was to ask us if we could make out a sentry on the granite wall before us, and whether it were a bugle or a ship's siren he heard in the fairway. This question I answered, telling him that a bugle had sounded ashore, and that there was a sentry before the fort.
"Is he a little man with a big top-knot—can you make out that much?" he asked next.
I told him that it was impossible.
"Ah," says he, "then we must see for ourselves." And again he touched the gong and we glided onward, creeping up in the darkness until we were not fifty yards from the fort, and it seemed to me in instant danger of discovery.
"Now," said the Captain, "to give old Ned the tune he'll like best." With that he touched a lever and instantly a siren began to blow weirdly over the waters, while, as it was still blowing, the Zero sank gently beneath the waves and the sounds died away in a long wail as of a man in his death agony. It was the very signal I had heard across the sea when Jack-o'-Lantern and his fellows fled from Dolphin's Cove. But, I confess, I heard it now with very different feelings, believing that it must be answered instantly by the guns of the fort, and that our discovery would be but a matter of moments.
I have told you of an instrument in the conning-tower by which all sounds from the sea, whether above or below, were carried to our ears whatever the depth at which we lay. Black had picked up one of these receivers directly we sank, and he motioned to me to take another. No sooner had I put it to my ears than I heard a sound of men talking excitedly above us, then of the tramping of feet and of some one halloaing as though to a boat which was approaching the fort. After this there was silence a little while, and upon this the splashing of oars and a new interchange of questions and answers as though from the ship to the fort and back again. For me it had no meaning, but Black read it clearly enough, and he chuckled while he interpreted it.
"That's the medical inspection boat hailing them, Doctor," he cried, looking over his shoulder at Osbart while he spoke. "I guess they've sighted us and have come along to give us their pills. That's your job, my boy, and don't let 'em queer your pitch, Why, man, there won't be a front seat in any graveyard in Yorkshire if this goes on. And you sit there like a clucking hen and not half so handsome."
Osbart answered not a word, and, chuckling still, Black fell to business. We rose slowly from the depths and lay now in the very shadow of the fort. High above us a searchlight was working, and a vast arc of its golden light shone far upon the still waters. We could see the medical inspection launch very plainly, and we had no difficulty in seeing that she was going down river upon an errand which did not concern us. On the rampart of the fort itself there stood three men, who were gazing out over the river in a vain endeavour to discover the mysterious siren which had warned them. I imagined that one of them would be Black's old comrade, Ned Kelly, but which one or by what means he was to be brought on board I knew not at all. The danger of our situation was plain enough, and needed no emphasis. Those above had but to fire a gun at us, and we were done for in a flash.
Well, we lay for some minutes without sound or motion in the shadow of the fort, and then a curious think began to happen. It was nothing less than the appearance of a thick fog on the sea round about us—a black, impenetrable mist which floated up, not from the water, but from a large bell-mouthed funnel on the platform of the Zero.
This fog was generated chemically, and was one of Guichard's most precious secrets. The effect of it was to shut everything from our view almost instantly; and when the first black smoke of it had passed, it left a thick haze behind through which all things were seen in vague and distorted shapes. Recalling our adventure at Dolphin's Cove, I remembered the sea-fog which had so puzzled Captain York, and held it to be a mystery no longer. Just as the cuttle-fish protects himself by shooting an ink liquid into the sea, so did we aboard the Zero protect ourselves from observation by the swift discharge of this blinding vapour. The haze of it was still upon the water when Black opened the steel hatch of the conning-tower and stepped on deck. An instant later he had hailed the sentry at the fort, and asked him boldly if Ned Kelly were there.
"Who goes?" came the cry. The answer was, "Friend," and then, "Submarine A1 to speak with Sergeant Williams."
I had followed Black to the platform, and I stood there, amazed at his courage and quite spellbound by the effrontery of his actions. I knew that a false word might send us headlong to the bottom of the Humber, and I waited, telling myself that it was incredible such a jest could be played to the end. Then I heard the voice again, speaking through the fog and seeming to come from the very wall of granite which sheltered us.
"I am Sergeant Williams. What orders do you bring?"
"A telegram to London, Sergeant. Have the goodness to write it down."
A contemptuous guffaw followed the intimation, and then the voice asked a question:
"Is this a night manœuvre or what? We've no instruction here. You'll have to show me some authority, I'm thinking—that is, when this d——d smoke of yours blows over. I never saw such a fog in my life. Are you afire, or what?"
"A bit leaky in the ribs, Sergeant—you'll like the flavour of it by and by. Is that Ned Kelly with you, I wonder? It seems to me I know the cut of his jib—why, yes, it would be Ned, surely, and he'll just be stepping aboard us—eh, Ned, are you coming aboard? It's the old skipper who calls you. Don't you know his voice?"
Well, the effect of it was electrical. I saw a blurred figure come forward to the very edge of the glacis, a voice cried, "Black, by thunder," in a tone which stirred the blood, and then a man came rolling and sliding over the concrete hard and fell plump upon the platform like a sack shot into a wagon. In the same instant a hatchway opened, and Jack-o'-Lantern, catching the fugitive in his arms, dragged him below decks; while Black made a sign to me to return to the conning-tower, and immediately entered it himself.
"Sergeant," says he jauntily, before he closed the steel doors, "I'm very much obliged to you, and my compliments at home. You'll be remembering the telegram to Whitehall, I don't doubt. Say that Black's afloat, and that some of them will hear of him sooner than they look for. Do you hear me? Then, good night, my boy, and good luck to ye."
His laugh rang out over the waters as the doors went to with a clash, and the Zero began to sink. What was in Black's mind, what danger he feared, I did not instantly perceive; but I know that the ship whirled away astern at a tremendous speed, and then swung round as though she would cross the river backward. Hardly had this manœuvre been completed when the water about us began to race and foam as though a tempest were raging beneath, and not on the surface of the sea. I heard a low rumbling sound, as of a submarine explosion; the Zero trembled from stem to stern, the very plates in her seemed bursting asunder. And then, as swiftly, calm fell, and we were racing through the dark waters for Spurn Head and the open.
"A near thing," said Black calmly,