Drowned Gold/Chapter 20
CHAPTER XX
DESPITE our best efforts, it was impossible to avoid the thousand and one annoying little delays in connection with Jimmy's apparatus, the final fitting of the submarine, and the purchase of other accessories. We were fortunate in being able to buy at very reasonable figures pontoons and a heavy barge built for wrecking, and provided with powerful cranes.
The delay gave me time to drill and train in their new duties such members of the old Esperanza'a crew as we had been able to find, and with whom Jimmy, throughout the war, had tried to keep in touch. There were but two or three of the men who had ever worked aboard a submarine, and of these, oddly enough, the most competent proved to be none other than Mike Cochrane, the oiler who had been our enemy, but had now become one of our most loyal men. We were also fortunate in being able to secure an expert mechanician from the Bellairs Company, a man who proved invaluable in a sort of nondescript capacity, combining the duties of engineer and consulting expert. He was a lean, lank, tow-haired Yankee of the inventive type, who drawled and slouched in a most unseamanlike manner, seemed incapable of ever displaying any emotion whatever, fear least of all, and whose sole ambition was to obtain money enough to buy himself a farm somewhere up in Vermont. "So," as he said, "that he could be far enough away from the sea not to hear the doggone thing rattling about." His name in itself was a poem, being Obadiah Salvation Binks, which was immediately shortened by the men of the crew to "Sal."
There were other conditions extraneous to the equipment of our enterprise that keyed up our impatience. For instance, an enterprising special writer in one of the Sunday newspapers discussed the enormous push given to salvage operations now that the bottom of the sea was literally covered with victims of the war, and compiled a most ingenious list of treasure boats that had been wrecked, and the supposed depths in which they had been sunk. Among these was the Esperanza, which was presumably resting on a thirteen-fathom shoal. The writer took for granted the exaggerated statement, magnified from the Maracaibo source, that she carried in her strong room six million dollars' worth of gold. It seemed to me as if that vast fortune and its comparative accessibility was one of the choice plums for gossip, and several other papers afterwards referred to it. My friend, the marine editor, came to me for an interview, and while I told him as little as possible, that which I didn't tell him his quick imagination furnished, and I was given more fame than I desired. Discreet though the men of my crew all were, one of them must have been taken unawares and talked too much, because another Sunday newspaper published an account of the sinking of the Esperanza, padded and embroidered until it assumed the proportions of a terrific naval battle, endowed with most heroic exploits. I wrote a letter to this publication, denying the story, and requesting them to print it, but if they did I never saw it.
One condition was very evident, that we had no time to lose if we desired to be first on the scene to salvage the Esperanza, which lay far beyond tide waters, and was therefore in the open seas. Time had passed so rapidly that under any other circumstances no one would have attempted to salvage the Esperanza at that season of the year; for no one but an experienced wrecker fully realizes the difficulties and dangers attending such operations in any other than calm seas, and now the time was approaching when the fierce tropical hurricanes might swoop down across the Caribbean with terrible effect. Yet, it was certain that, notwithstanding those dangers, there would be found adventuresome spirits to take the risks; six million dollars being a prodigious prize. It is a fact that of all the men who live by the sea, the most reckless and daring are wreckers and divers. The annals of the heroic rescues which these men have performed voluntarily along our stormy North Atlantic coast alone would fill volumes.
Everything was in readiness, and with the utmost secrecy possible the lumbering but stanch old sea tug, the Sea-Gull, with my chief mate, Rogers, as captain, and the second engineer of the old Esperanza as chief engineer, and a crew made up from men of the Esperanza, augmented by a few others whom I could trust, sailed away from the Atlantic Basin in New York, and started on the long and laborious trip southward. Knowing that we should reach our hunting grounds much more quickly in the submarine, which Jimmy and I had christened the Hector, we did not put out from our berth in Long Island Sound until two or three days later, which gave us opportunity for testing Jimmy's submarine searchlights to the utmost. The beginning of our enterprise was favored with moderate weather for that season of the year, so much so that to us aboard the submarine it was more like a pleasure voyage than an earnest cruise. Indeed, we ran light during the entire trip, and at such a rate of speed that we overtook the tug with her cumbersome tow, and were able to go aboard and exchange notes. A submarine traveling light is practically as comfortable as any ocean-going ship. The uninitiated are apt to confuse the two terms of submarine navigation, "light" and "awash." A modern submarine traveling "light" has her deck exposed, and her ventilators and conning-tower constantly open. She therefore has both sunlight and air, and travels with her Diesels, or heavy oil-burning engines, only. Running "awash," her deck is almost submerged, until nothing but the top of her conning tower is visible, and for all purposes of comfort she might nearly as well be completely submerged.
We were, therefore, very grateful for unruffled seas and days of sparkling sunshine, as we slipped at full speed into the tropical waters, after deciding to leave the tug and tow to make the best progress they could. We hoped to locate the wreck of the Esperanza before the surface boats arrived.
In due time we drew near the spot that had proven so tragic to me, and all the men off duty were animatedly pointing toward the familiar headlands of Martinique. We were all of us buoyed up by the prospects of decent weather, and filled with confidence. And then of a sudden we made a shocking discovery that dampened all our hopes and filled us with foreboding.
"Craft of some sort on the port bow, sir," called the man on lookout on the tiny bridge, and all of us strained our eyes in the direction indicated. From that distance it was but faintly discernible and through the glasses we could not make out what she was. The troublesome part consisted in the certainty that she was not steaming, or, if so, was moving at an imperceptible rate of speed. Scarcely any smoke appeared above her funnels. Moreover, she appeared to be in almost exactly the spot for which we were making. From the deck of the average liner, a submarine of our size, cruising light, should be visible for at least ten or twelve miles at sea on such a day, and for purposes of inspection those aboard a liner would have a most decided advantage owing to their height above the surface of the water. Had it not been for this, I should have submerged until we could draw down upon and inspect this strange vessel before those aboard her became aware of our presence; but being convinced that we had probably been sighted some time before, we proceeded under full speed toward her. As we brought her above the horizon in constantly clearing view, we made out that she was fitted with enormous cranes, and was, undoubtedly, a salvage boat of a late type. Ungainly, ugly, monstrous, and powerful, she looked like a square steel fortress on the surface of the sea, and was not under way. If she had succeeded in finding the Esperanza, and had grappled thereto, we were helpless; for the salvage must then be hers by right of location.
"Well, Tom, it looks like some one has beat us to it, and as far as this job is concerned, we are done," I heard Jimmy, who was standing behind me, exclaim, in a voice of profound hopelessness.
"It looks that way," I assented gloomily. "She is standing still now, but that's no proof that she was not fumbling around trying to locate the wreck when she sighted us. If that's so, we still have more than an equal chance of grabbing the prize."
We stood just forward of the conning-tower, and could hear the angry or disappointed comments of the men abaft, who, like ourselves, were for the moment discouraged.
The decks of the wrecker were well covered with men, who lined her nearest rail as we reduced speed and in the quiet sea ran fairly close to her. She appeared formidable. Her cranes were inordinately large, suggesting great power, and there was an enormous overhang at her stern, where was a platform, presumably equipped for direct grappling. I ordered out our collapsible boat, launched it, and with two men at the oars, pulled over to the Gretchen, the unwelcome ship. Her side ladders were down, and, as I approached, the huge, distorted figure of a diver appeared from the surface of the sea, dripping like some big fish that was being hauled aboard, and was hoisted upward to a steel platform that projected from the strake. The thumping of an air pump stopped, and we could hear the conversation of her crew in undertone, as if they had been cautioned by their commander. I hailed and asked if I might come aboard, was given permission, and in a dead silence climbed the steps. I asked the first man I met where the ship's master was; but he didn't seem to understand, and a voice from up above answered, mockingly, "The ship's commander is up here, Captain Thomas Hale."
I lifted my eyes, looked up to the bridge, and there, leaning across the rail on his elbows and calmly staring at me, stood Count Waldo von Vennemann. I stood, momentarily transfixed with anger. This man seemed forever to baulk me at every important turn in my life. He had robbed me of the only woman I had ever loved; he had robbed me of the only steamship I had ever owned; he had robbed me of my only chance to make, by one venture, a moderate fortune, and now had come to rob me of the salvage money to be obtained from the very ship which he had sent to the bottom. In that moment I could have cursed him, as he stood there above me, with a grin of enjoyment at my discomfiture. But he was possessed of too much breeding, or, at least, of too much discipline, to betray his triumph by boorish means. Perhaps he thought it would afford him more enjoyment to witness my discomfiture while he played the part of suave host. He suddenly straightened himself to naval attitude and saluted me. I came to my senses, brought my heels together as punctiliously as had he, and returned his salute exactly as if we were still officers in naval service, and then advanced toward him. He came down from the bridge steps to greet me, apologizing as he did so.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, in his fluent English, devoid of gutturals. "I had not expected to entertain a visitor of rank. It is rather a surprise that we should meet here on the spot again, and under such circumstances. I believe the last time we were here it was I who was in a submarine and you in a surface vessel, was it not? I almost forget."
We confronted each other, neither of us extending his hand, aware that we were enemies, and must always be, and looking a veiled challenge into each other's eyes. I flatter myself that the tone I adopted was as suave as his own.
"A man of so many affairs as Count Waldo von Vennemann must undoubtedly forget incidents of much more importance to others. Myself, for instance. But I am surprised to see such a distinguished officer of the former German Navy a mere master of a salvage ship. It scarcely seems fitting to such a career."
I think the shot went home; for his somewhat florid face flushed a trifle before he replied:
"Oh, even a Prussian nobleman, or a former commander in His Imperial Majesty's Navy, can use such a satisfying sum of money as was lost aboard the Esperanza, which you commanded, Commander Hale."
I knew that he used the title of my previous naval rank maliciously, and I am not certain that in this exchange of sarcasm he did not have the best of it; for if he had resigned from a naval service to become a wrecker, it was equally certain that I, too, was no longer wearing the uniform of my country's Navy. He became aware that some of his men had moved toward us, and stood within hearing, and with that brusqueness which characterizes Prussian commands, turned and barked a brutal order to them in German to be gone about their own business. And like men who had served in Prussian service, they slunk away, for all the world like dogs with tails between their legs. He turned toward me, and again was the well-mannered man speaking to an equal.
But this is no way to greet an old"—he almost said "friend," but caught himself—"acquaintance, after so long separation. We must at least celebrate our return to a common scene by that courtesy which I believe prevails aboard mercantile ships at sea. May I have the honor of conducting you to my cabin?"
For an instant I was inclined to refuse, but decided that I should gain nothing by slapping him in the face, and so agreed. I am still thankful that I did not accept the drink which he proffered after we entered hig quarters and seated ourselves. I glanced about me, and observed that he was still a sybarite in the fittings of his surroundings. Among other furnishings of his cabin aboard this ugly wrecking ship was a beautiful old dresser, on the top of which, arranged with much precision by his steward, was spread out a gold toilet set, and, exactly in the center of the same, the ornately framed photograph of Marty that I had seen that day in his cabin aboard the submarine, where I, wet and dripping, changed my clothes. I could not look at. it, for it seemed to me that if ever a glorious woman had fallen a sacrifice, this was the one. I wondered if she, marooned in some half-decrepit castle in Germany, was at that moment speculating over the possibilities of his success, and whether she had children who talked to her in his tongue, so alien to her. Alien? Probably not by this time, for within three or four years even the language of the mind can alter and fit itself to habitual surroundings. Hastily I shifted my eyes, lest I give him another opportunity to gloat over my numerous defeats at his hands.
"Ah, you are still a teetotaller, I observe," he was saying, as he stood with his back to me, replacing a decanter of whiskey en a tiny sideboard. "I have always considered that one of the faults of the American Navy."
I could have leaped to my feet and broken his jaw for that slur, and should have derived much satisfaction from kicking him in his ribs in case he fell, a satisfaction which doubtless our primitive ancestors attained when they bashed out some fellow cave man's brains with a club. I had not come to his cabin to afford him pleasure. I was not there to waste time, and with total disregard for diplomacy I addressed him bluntly:
"Of course you came here to salvage my ship?"
"Certainly," he answered. "Why not? She is outside the limit. She was uninsured, and there is a pretty well-defined understanding in such cases as this that, as you Americans say, it is the early bird that catches the worm. I am here to catch mine."
The mask was off. There was no further pretense of friendship, and we glared at each other in mutual animosity. For a moment we stood thus, and as if luck had changed a little in my favor, there came to my acute ears voices of two men talking outside. In the silence that pervaded the ship as she lay there, motionless, and without hum or drone of working machinery or engines, what they said was distinctly audible. I was thankful in that moment for my knowledge of the German tongue.
"It is my opinion, just the same, that we are at least a mile to the westward of where the Esperanza went down," declared one of the men to another, as if in the midst of an argument.
For me it was a speech of portent, and it was my turn to lift my eyes to von Vennemann and grin. He had jumped hastily to his feet as if to rush to the bridge and order silence; but, knowing full well that I had heard, he instantly settled back in his chair and waited for me to speak.
"It seems," I said mockingly, "that up to this moment your efforts have not been attended with any great success. Of course had you located the wreck of my ship and put your mark thereon by way of a buoy, you would be in possession; but, as it is, it has become now an open question as to which one of us will first attach thereto."
"You think so?" he asked, with a sneer. "You must not be so certain of that, although you have gained some knowledge by eavesdropping."
"That's a lie, and you know it," I said, starting to my feet. "Eavesdropping, I will say, for your enlightenment, implies a deliberate attempt to overhear what others are saying; not an accident of overheard conversation."
He, too, got to his feet, and for a moment we confronted each other in extreme anger; but I think that his sober sense cautioned him to avoid physical contact, for he must have known that had it occurred, I need scarcely have exerted myself to vanquish him. He was brave enough, for all that, promptly to utter his defiance.
"You can do as you like about it, but I will give you a a warning, Captain Hale! If you think I left Germany and put all the money I could gather together into outfitting this expedition, only to have you, or anybody else, take it away from me, you are a fool. You have come here with a submarine to try to locate the wreck of the Esperanza. You have no arms—any more than I have. The Peace Settlements would see to that. You can't take the gold from under us with that submarine, and I will give you warning that any man who has fought through a war as I have, and has men aboard his ship who know what he is after, will have no hesitancy whatever in sinking you to put you out of this business."
To emphasize his declaration he coupled it with broad German oaths, as he added: "I am going to locate and salvage the gold off the Esperanza. If you interfere I will ram you and send you to the bottom, just as sure as the sky is above us and the sea beneath us, so you can take that for what it is worth. This game is too big to be hampered by either sympathies, morals, or maritime laws. I will give you just one hour in which to clear from here, and after that I will do the best I can to sink you. Also, for information, whether you believe it or not, I will tell you that I can do twenty knots an hour, with this boat we are on, and that foreseeing complications, she is armed with a steel ram."
I whirled on my heels, and started for his cabin door, without further waste of time.
"Good," I exclaimed; "that clears the situation. It is a private war between you and me?"
"Exactly," he said, "with just one hour's truce."
I walked rapidly from his cabin down the bridge to the side ladder and my boat. He had dropped the rôle of host, and did not grant me the courtesy of following. I stepped into my boat and was rowed back to the submarine, and in exactly twenty-five minutes after our declaration of war had turned northward, still running light and at full speed, and was rapidly dropping Count Vennemann's boat behind. She made no attempt to follow us, nor was there even a curl of smoke above her when we dropped her below the horizon. But I swore that if he wanted a private war he should have it, and already I had begun formulating my plans.