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he remarked. "I can stick that. I don't think they'll go to extreme measures with me. If they do they'll be sorry for it later on."
At the usual hour the officer-prisoners were ordered below. By ten o'clock all was still. The crew of the raider were no longer working by night. The bulk of the preparations completed they were given ample opportunities for rest, since it was necessary to conserve their energies for defence against the impending attack.
On deck a strict watch was maintained, but the attention of the sentries was mainly directed downstream, whence the sudden switching on of the searchlights was to be the signal of the approach of the British flotillas.
It was not until two bells (1 a.m.) that the three officers stole from their cabin. On deck all was in darkness. There was no moon. Every light was extinguished. A mist obscured the glimmer of the stars. It was one of those nights when it was really impossible to see one's hand in front of one's face.
Without interruption the three officers gained the shelter of one of the boats slung inboard with davits. Here, eight feet above the deck, they were in comparative safety. Groping in the stern-sheets Denbigh found what he expected--a hand lead-line.
Keeping the weighted end in the boat he dropped the coils overboard.
Caught by the swirling current the line trailed out astern. His next task was to lower the boat's painter, which was to form a means of getting down into the punt.
Stealthily the sub lowered himself hand over hand until his feet touched the water.
"Good heavens, what a current!" he thought. "Well, if the lead-line parts it will be an end to this little business. Here goes!"
He slipped softly into the river, striking out against the current, and at the same time allowing the rush of water to sweep him down across the bows of the punt, which was about a hundred feet from the place where he had descended.
Suddenly something flicked across his head. It was the trailing lead-line. Grasping it he allowed himself to be carried past the side of the s.h.i.+p until he came within reach of the punt, which was made fast to the lizard of one of the swinging booms.
Still retaining the line Denbigh clambered over the stern. The punt was yawing in the tideway. He could see that it would be impossible to haul it against the stream unless he kept well off.
He groped for'ard. In the bluff stem he found a metal ring-bolt.
Through this he pa.s.sed the lead-line, making fast to another ring-bolt in the transom.
So far so good. His next step was to cut adrift the unwieldy little craft. Released from the hold of the two ropes the punt swung away from the s.h.i.+p's side, but showed little tendency to yaw.
Slowly Denbigh began to haul in the lead-line. Foot by foot the punt crept up-stream. Trimmed well by the stern she towed lightly, but the securing line was none too strong. His journey to the place where he had entered the water seemed interminable, but at length Denbigh felt the trailing painter of the boat in the davits.
He made fast. As he did so the punt swung in towards the s.h.i.+p's side, her gunwale making a resounding sound as it came in contact with the steel plating.
He could hear men's footsteps approaching. Through the darkness he heard a German sailor enquiring of his companion what the noise was.
The fellow expressed his opinion that it was merely a hippopotamus, and the explanation being evidently satisfactory the men went aft once more.
Grasping the painter Denbigh jerked it three times. It was the prearranged signal for his comrades to rejoin him. Silently Armstrong slid down the rope, followed by O'Hara.
By this time they were growing accustomed to the darkness. Denbigh could see the white uniforms of his companions. He wondered whether they would be spotted once the punt drifted away from the s.h.i.+p's side.
Just above his head was a cl.u.s.ter of palm branches, suspended in a line from the rail.
"I'll take the liberty of removing some of their floral decorations,"
mused Denbigh. Then signing to his companions to lie down he covered them with the broad leaves, cut the log-line, and allowed the punt to drift at the mercy of the strong ebb-tide.
CHAPTER XVIII
Disappointment
"Any oars on board?" asked O'Hara, after the frail craft had drifted a few hundred yards down the river.
"Not a suspicion of one," replied Armstrong. "And the bore will be due in about an hour."
"Hands, lads!" exclaimed Denbigh cheerily. "Let us imagine we're taking part in a Fleet regatta."
Leaning over the sides the men paddled with their hands, steering a course obliquely with the left bank of the river.
Once the punt tilted alarmingly as a dark heavy body rasped underneath.
The denizens of the river were in evidence. The officers prudently suspended operations until the unwelcome intruder had disappeared.
"Hulloa, what's that?" whispered the Irishman. "Hippos right across the river."
The punt was bearing down upon a line of dark objects that were apparently forging ahead against the swift current.
"Back starboard!" ordered Denbigh promptly.
The punt, checked by the resistance of O'Hara's palms in the water, swung sideways. As it did so Denbigh gathered up the slack of the severed lead-line that still remained on board.
Retaining the ends he threw the bight across one of the black objects, at the same time lying at full length on the bottom of the boat. With a jerk that wellnigh capsized the crank craft the punt's way was checked.
"Your hippos are barrels, old man!" he exclaimed.
"Mines, perhaps," suggested Armstrong. "Be careful, for goodness sake."
"Not mines," declared Denbigh. "They wouldn't be floating on the surface. But it's some infernal contrivance. Haul closer and we'll investigate."
Warding off the gunwale from the plunging barrel Denbigh dipped his arm into the water. His hand came in contact with a heavy chain eighteen inches beneath the surface.
"A boom!" he announced. "By Jove! If we had a slab of gun-cotton handy."
"Hist!" exclaimed O'Hara warningly. "I can hear voices."
"It's time for us to go," whispered Armstrong.
Denbigh cast off. The barrel appeared to leap away from them, as the punt was swept down-stream.
"Not much use attempting to land at this point," said Armstrong.
"I don't know so much about that," rejoined Denbigh. "Personally I'm rather anxious to see what these fellows are doing ash.o.r.e. Keep her going, Pat. We'll strike the bank in less than half a mile."
Paddling in silence the men pursued their tedious course athwart the current until a dull roar was borne to their ears.
"The bore!" exclaimed Armstrong.
"It will be quite ten minutes before it reaches us," replied Denbigh.
"Stick to it, lads!"
The amphibians, with the keen instinct that nature bestowed upon them, also were aware of the approach of the foaming ma.s.s of water, for the centre of the river was literally alive with hippopotami and saurians that had not gone ash.o.r.e for a nocturnal ramble. The crocodiles on the mud-flats were either making for deep water or else crawling higher up the banks out of the rush of the irresistible bore.