“Who’s that?” came from below, as I stepped on board.
“Hush! it’s me.” And Davies and I were pawing one another in the dark of the cabin.
“Are you all right, old chap?” said he.
“Yes; are you? A match! What’s the time? Quick!”
“Good Heavens, Carruthers, what the blazes have you done to yourself?” (I suspect I cut a pretty figure after my two days’ outing.)
“Invasion?”
“Is Dollmann at the villa?”
“Yes.”
“Is the Medusa afloat?”
“No, on the mud.”
“The devil! Are we afloat?”
“I think so still, but they made me shift.”
For a few strenuous14 minutes we toiled15 at the sweeps till the Dulcibella was berthed16 ahead of the steamer, in deeper water. Meanwhile I had whispered a few facts.
“How soon can you get under way?” I asked.
“Ten minutes.”
“When’s daylight?”
“Sunrise about seven, first dawn about five. Where are we bound?”
“Holland, or England.”
“Are they invading it now?” said Davies, calmly.
“No, only rehearsing!” I laughed, wildly.
“Then we can wait.”
“We can wait exactly an hour and a half. Come ashore17 and knock up Dollmann; we must denounce him, and get them both aboard; it’s now or never. Holy Saints! man, not as you are!” (He was in pyjamas18.) “Sea clothes!”
While he put on Christian19 attire20, I resumed my facts and sketched21 a plan. “Are you watched?” I asked.
“I think so; by the Kormoran’s men.”
“Is the Kormoran here?”
“Yes.”
“The men?”
“Not to-night. Grimm called for them in that tug. I was watching. And, Carruthers, the Blitz is here.”
“Where?”
“In the roads outside—didn’t you see her?”
“Wasn’t looking. Her skipper’s safe anyway; so’s Böhme, so’s the Tertium Quid, and so are the Kormoran’s men. The coast’s clear—it’s now or never.”
Once more we were traversing the long jetty and the silent streets, rain driving at our backs. We trod on air, I think; I remember no fatigue22. Davies sometimes broke into a little run, muttering “scoundrel” to himself.
“I was right—only upside down,” he murmured more than once. “Always really right—those channels are the key to the whole concern. Chatham, our only eastern base—no North Sea base or squadron—they’d land at one of those God-forsaken flats off the Crouch23 and Blackwater.”
“It seems a wild scheme,” I observed.
“Wild? In a way. So is any invasion. But it’s thorough; it’s German. No other country could do it. It’s all dawning on me—by Jove! It will be at the Wash—much the nearest, and as sandy as this side.”
“How’s Dollmann been?” I asked.
“Polite, but queer and jumpy. It’s too long a story.”
“Clara?”
“She’s all right. By Jove! Carruthers—never mind.”
We found a night-bell at the villa door and rang it lustily. A window aloft opened, and “A message from Commander von Brüning—urgent,” I called up.
The window shut, and soon after the hall was lighted and the door opened by Dollmann in a dressing-gown.
“Good morning, Lieutenant24 X——,” I said, in English. “Stop, we’re friends, you fool!” as the door was flung nearly to. It opened very slowly again, and we walked in.
“Silence!” he hissed25. The sweat stood on his steep forehead and a hectic26 flush on either cheek, but there was a smile—what a smile!—on his lips. Motioning us to tread noiselessly (a vain ideal for me), he led the way to the sitting-room27 we knew, switched on the light, and faced us.
“Well?” he said, in English, still smiling.
I consulted my watch, and I may say that if my hand was an index to my general appearance, I must have looked the most abject28 ruffian under heaven.
“We probably understand one another,” I said, “and to explain is to lose time. We sail for Holland, or perhaps England, at five at the latest, and we want the pleasure of your company. We promise you immunity29—on certain conditions, which can wait. We have only two berths30, so that we can only accommodate Miss Clara besides yourself.” He smiled on through this terse31 harangue32, but the smile froze, as though beneath it raged some crucial debate. Suddenly he laughed (a low, ironical33 laugh).
“You fools,” he said, “you confounded meddlesome34 young idiots; I thought I had done with you. Promise me immunity? Give me till five? By God, I’ll give you five minutes to be off to England and be damned to you, or else to be locked up for spies! What the devil do you take me for?”
“A traitor35 in German service,” said Davies, none too firmly. We were both taken aback by this slashing36 attack.
“A tr——? You pig-headed young marplots! I’m in British service! You’re wrecking37 the work of years—and on the very threshold of success.”
For an instant Davies and I looked at one another in stupefaction. He lied—I could swear he lied; but how make sure?
“Pshaw! They made me clear him out. I knew he was safe, and safe he is.”
“Very well,” I said, after a moment or two, “we’ll clear out—silence, Davies!—as it appears we have acted in error; but it’s right to tell you that we know everything.”
“Not so loud, curse you! What do you know?”
“I was taking notes at Memmert the other night.”
“Impossible!”
“Thanks to Davies. Under difficulties, of course, but I heard quite enough. You were reporting your English tour—Chatham, you know, and the English scheme of attack, a mythical40 one, no doubt, as you’re on the right side! Böhme and the rest were dealing41 with the German scheme of defence A to G—I heard it all—the seven islands and the seven channels between them (Davies knows every one of them by heart); and then on land, the ring of railway, Esens the centre, the army corps42 to mobilise and entrench—all nugatory43, wasted, ha! ha!—as you’re on the right s——”
“Not so loud, you fiend of mischief44!” He turned his back, and made an irresolute45 pace or two towards the door, his hands kneading the folds of his dressing-gown as they had kneaded the curtain at Memmert. Twice he began a question and twice broke off. “I congratulate you, gentlemen,” he said, finally, and with more composure, facing us again, “you have done marvels46 in your misplaced zeal47; but you have compromised me too much already. I shall have to have you arrested—purely for form’s sake——”
“Thank you,” I broke in. “We have wasted five minutes, and time presses. We sail at five, and—purely for form’s sake—would rather have you with us.”
“I had the advantage of you at Memmert, in spite of acoustic49 obstacles. Your friends made an appointment behind your back, and I, in my misplaced zeal, have taken some trouble to attend it; so that I’ve had a working demonstration50 on another matter, the invasion of England from the seven siels.” (Davies nudged me.) “No, I should let that pistol alone; and no, I wouldn’t ring the bell. You can arrest us if you like, but the secret’s in safe hands.”
“You lie!” He was right there; but he could not know it.
“Do you suppose I haven’t taken that precaution? But no names are mentioned.” He gave a sort of groan51, sank into a chair, and seemed to age and grizzle before our very eyes.
“What did you say about immunity, and Clara?” he muttered. “We’re friends—we’re friends!” burst out Davies, with a gulp52 in his voice. “We want to help you both.” (Through a sudden mist that filmed my eyes I saw him impetuously walk over and lay his hand on the other’s shoulder.) “Those chaps are on our track and yours. Come with us. Wake her, tell her. It’ll be too late soon.”
X—— shrank from his touch. “Tell her? I can’t tell her. You tell her, boy.” He was huddling53 back into his chair. Davies turned to me.
“Where’s her room?” I said, sharply.
“Above this one.”
“Go up, Carruthers,” said Davies.
“Not I—I shall frighten her into a fit.”
“I don’t like to.”
“Nonsense, man! We’ll both go then.”
“Don’t make a noise,” said a dazed voice. We left that huddled54 figure and stole upstairs—thickly carpeted stairs, luckily. The door we wanted was half open, and the room behind it lighted. On the threshold stood a slim white figure, bare-footed; bare-throated.
“What is it, father?” she called in a whisper. “Whom have you been talking to?” I pushed Davies forward, but he hung back.
“Hush, don’t be frightened,” I said, “it’s I, Carruthers, and Davies—and Davies. May we come in, just for one moment?”
I gently widened the opening of the door, while she stepped back and put one hand to her throat.
“Please come to your father,” I said. “We are going to take you both to England in the Dulcibella—now, at once.”
She had heard me, but her eyes wandered to Davies.
“I understand not,” she faltered55, trembling and cowering56 in such touching57 bewilderment that I could not bear to look at her.
“For God’s sake, say something, Davies,” I muttered.
“Clara!” said Davies, “will you not trust us?”
I heard a little gasp58 from her. There was a flutter of lace and cambric and she was in his arms, sobbing59 like a tired child, her little white feet between his great clumsy sea-boots—her rose-brown cheek on his rough jersey60.
“It’s past four, old chap,” I remarked, brutally61. “I’m going down to him again. No packing to speak of, mind. They must be out of this in half an hour.” I stumbled awkwardly on the stairs (again that tiresome62 film!) and found him stuffing some papers pell-mell into the stove. There were only slumbering63 embers in it, but he did not seem to notice that. “You must be dressed in half an hour,” I said, furtively64 pocketing a pistol which lay on the table.
“Have you told her? Take her to England, you two boys. I think I’ll stay.” He sank into a chair again.
“Nonsense, she won’t go without you. You must, for her sake—in half an hour, too.”
I prefer to pass that half-hour lightly over. Davies left before me to prepare the yacht for sea, and I had to bear the brunt of what followed, including (as a mere65 episode) a scene with the step-mother, the memory of which rankles66 in me yet. After all, she was a sensible woman.
As for the other two, the girl when I saw her next, in her short boating skirt and tam-o’-shanter, was a miracle of coolness and pluck. But for her I should never have got him away. And ah! how good it was to be out in the wholesome67 rain again, hurrying to the harbour with my two charges, hurrying them down the greasy68 ladder to that frail69 atom of English soil, their first guerdon of home and safety.
Our flight from the harbour was unmolested, unnoticed. Only the first ghastly evidences of dawn were mingling70 with the strangled moonlight, as we tacked71 round the pier-head and headed close-reefed down the Riff Gat on the lees of the ebb-tide. We had to pass under the very quarter of the Blitz, so Davies said; for, of course, he alone was on deck till we reached the open sea. Day was breaking then. It was dead low water, and, far away to the south, between dun swathes of sand, I thought I saw—but probably it was only a fancy—two black stranded specks72. Rail awash, and decks streaming, we took the outer swell73 and clawed close-hauled under the lee of Juist, westward74, hurrying westward.
“Up the Ems on the flood, and to Dutch Delfzyl,” I urged. No, thought Davies; it was too near Germany, and there was a tidal cut through from Buse Tief. Better to dodge75 in behind Rottum Island. So on we pressed, past Memmert, over the Juister Reef and the Corinne’s buried millions, across the two broad and yeasty mouths of the Ems, till Rottum, a wee lonesome wafer of an islet, the first of the Dutch archipelago, was close on the weather-bow.
“We must get in behind that,” said Davies, “then we shall be safe; I think I know the way, but get the next chart; and then take a rest, old chap. Clara and I can manage.” (She had been on deck most of the time, as capable a hand as you could wish for, better far than I in my present state of exhaustion76.) I crawled along the slippery sloping planks77 and went below.
“Where are we?” cried Dollmann, starting up from the lee sofa, where he seemed to have been lying in a sort of trance. A book, his own book, slipped from his knees, and I saw the frontispiece lying on the floor in a pool of oil; for the stove had gone adrift, and the saloon was in a wretched state of squalor and litter.
“Off Rottum,” I said, and knelt up to find the chart. There was a look in his eyes that I suppose I ought to have understood, but I can scarcely blame myself, for the accumulated strain, not only of the last three days and nights, but of the whole arduous78 month of my cruise with Davies, was beginning to tell on me, now that safety and success were at hand. I handed up the chart through the companion, and then crept into the reeling fo’c’sle and lay down on the spare sail-bags, with the thunder and thump79 of the seas around and above me.
I must quote Davies for the event that happened now; for by the time I had responded to the alarm and climbed up through the fore-hatch, the whole tragedy was over and done with.
“X—— came up the companion,” he says, “soon after you went down. He held on by the runner, and stared to windward at Rottum, as though he knew the place quite well. And then he came towards us, moving so unsteadily that I gave Clara the tiller, and went to help him. I tried to make him go down again, but he wouldn’t, and came aft.
“‘Give me the helm,’ he said, half to himself. ‘Sea’s too bad outside—there’s a short cut here.’
“‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘I know this one.’ (I don’t think I meant to be sarcastic80.) He said nothing, and settled himself on the counter behind us, safe enough, with his feet against the lee-rail, and then, to my astonishment81, began to talk over my shoulder jolly sensibly about the course, pointing out a buoy82 which is wrong on the chart (as I knew), and telling me it was wrong, and so on. Well, we came to the bar of the Schild, and had to turn south for that twisty bit of beating between Rottum and Bosch Flat. Clara was at the jib-sheet, I had the chart and the tiller (you know how absent I get like that); there was a bobble of sea, and we both had heaps to do, and—well—I happened to look round, and he was gone. He hadn’t spoken for a minute or two, but I believe the last thing I heard him say (I was hardly attending at the time, for we were in the thick of it) was something about a ‘short cut’ again. He must have slipped over quietly.... He had an ulster and big boots on.”
We cruised about for a time, but never found him.
That evening, after threading the maze83 of shoals between the Dutch mainland and islands, we anchored off the little hamlet of Ostmahorn, [See Map A] gave the yacht in charge of some astonished fishermen, and thence by road and rail, hurrying still, gained Harlingen, and took passage on a steamer to London. From that point our personal history is of no concern to the outside world, and here, therefore, I bring this narrative84 to an end.
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1
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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3
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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scud
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| n.疾行；v.疾行 | |
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sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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tussle
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| n.&v.扭打，搏斗，争辩 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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11
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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warps
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| n.弯曲( warp的名词复数 )；歪斜；经线；经纱v.弄弯，变歪( warp的第三人称单数 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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14
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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berthed
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| v.停泊( berth的过去式和过去分词 )；占铺位 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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pyjamas
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| n.（宽大的）睡衣裤 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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immunity
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| n.优惠；免除；豁免，豁免权 | |
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berths
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| n.（船、列车等的）卧铺( berth的名词复数 )；（船舶的）停泊位或锚位；差事；船台vt.v.停泊( berth的第三人称单数 )；占铺位 | |
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terse
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| adj.(说话，文笔)精炼的，简明的 | |
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harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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meddlesome
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| adj.爱管闲事的 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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wrecking
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| 破坏 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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finesse
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| n.精密技巧，灵巧，手腕 | |
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mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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nugatory
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| adj.琐碎的，无价值的 | |
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44
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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45
irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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46
marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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47
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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48
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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49
acoustic
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| adj.听觉的，声音的；(乐器)原声的 | |
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50
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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51
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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52
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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53
huddling
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| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
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54
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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55
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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56
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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57
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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58
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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59
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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60
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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61
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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62
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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rankles
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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buoy
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| n.浮标；救生圈；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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