The Great Airship: A Tale of Adventure.

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER XV

  The Great Attempt

  A motley crowd thronged the narrow streets of the old city of Delhi,that city to which for so many years the eyes of the natives of Indiahad ever been turned, the same quaint, battlemented stronghold which hadseen those mutineers arrive flushed with the success of their firstmassacres of sahibs and mem-sahibs and children, had witnessed thestruggle of sepoys to overthrow the British Raj.

  A noisy crowd of gesticulating people, as dusky almost as ebony, someresplendent in many-coloured robes and turbans, others, the coolies,clad in but the lightest raiment, bargained at the numerous booths, orsat on their haunches in the sun, basking in the heat, smoking theirhubble-bubbles. Now and again a sowar passed, mounted on his wiryanimal, as fine a soldier as this jewel in England's glorious crowncould well produce. Then came a Gurkha maybe, though very few were to befound in the neighbourhood of Delhi; a tall Sikh followed, his dark eyesglowing beneath his huge and picturesque turban. In short, a motleycrowd, a crowd of surpassing interest, wended its way hither andthither, some about their ordinary business, some on shopping bent,others merely idling, trusting to meet chance acquaintances when theycould forgather in some quiet corner and chatter about the huge airship.

  "Ripping!" declared Alec, when he and Dick had looked on at the throngfor perhaps an hour, and had strolled through a number of streets. "It'squite the most interesting thing I have ever seen. Look! There areEnglish people mixed up with the natives."

  There was every nationality one could imagine almost. Slim, sly men fromthe hills, in the neighbourhood of the North-West, a couple of Afghanmerchants but recently arrived by way of the Khyber Pass, a Parseebanker, a native clerk, a postman of dusky colour. Then a group ofchattering women, a bevy of girls from the nearest school, clad ingarments very similar to those worn by their European sisters. And latera gorgeously-caparisoned elephant, with some native prince in thehowdah. A band sounded in the distance, and presently a British regimentswung by, the natives on either side salaaming to the colours, whichDick saluted in naval style. Nor were our two young friends the leastinteresting of the people bustling about the streets of Delhi. A coupleof clean, jolly, well-set-up young Englishmen they looked, their whitedrill suits and topees suiting them admirably. But there were others ofinterest also. Three sailors swung by, barging through the crowd withthat curious roll so common to men of the sea. Need we say that theywere Hawkins, Hurst, and Pierson, with the cantankerous and unlovelyPrivate Larkin in close attendance? And didn't they take good care tosalute our two young friends!

  "It's him!" growled Hawkins fiercely in Private Larkin's ear when hecaught sight of Dick and Alec. "Now then, all together, and mind thereain't no skulking."

  "'Oo's a skulking, I'd like to know?" came in grumbling tones from thesoldier even in the midst of a fierce salute. "One would think as younaval chaps was the only ones as could do a job of this sort nice andhandy! 'Sides, I'm salutin' Mr. Alec, 'im as is fit ter be a soldier,and will be. I ain't no doubt as he'll pass the Navy. It ain't in hisline, yer see. Too much red tape and pipeclay for 'is liking."

  It was another effort on the part of this pleasant individual to get upa fierce argument, and had the men been gathered in their quartersaboard the airship no doubt Hawkins would have obliged him. But therewas too much to be seen on every hand, and therefore, with a growling"Come along, you," he led the way past our heroes and down the bazaar.

  "Hallo! Mr. Carl Reitberg of all people! Thought he was abed, quite doneup after that little affair of ours on the north-west frontier,"exclaimed Dick, some few minutes later. "The high and mighty CarlReitberg seated in a gharri careering about the streets of Delhi. Lookat him shouting because the crowd don't move aside soon enough for hismajesty. And where is he going?"

  "Which reminds me that we haven't kept up that watch since we came toDelhi," said Alec. "Think he's up to any games?"

  How could one answer that question? No doubt the magnate had his ownbusiness to transact, and indeed, halted at a bank and entered. When heemerged Dick saw that he was tucking a well-filled purse into hispocket. He struggled into his cab, mopped his forehead with ahandkerchief of brilliant hue, and then gave directions to the driver.

  "Vote we follow," cried Dick. "I don't like our guest's face, to bequite frank with you. What's he drawing money for? Where's he going?"

  "Might just as well expect other folks to be asking the same questionabout us. But we'll follow. Here, out of the way, you son of a gun. Hi!Gharri!"

  Alec displaced the dusky individual who barred his path, and wavedfrantically to a cabman. A minute later the two were seated in thegharri, which at once set out in pursuit of the one that Carl Reitberghad taken.

  "Booking office of the railway," said Dick, ten minutes later, seeingCarl descend and enter an office so labelled. "Had enough of the airshipit seems, and will make the trip to the coast by train. But that'squeer, ain't it?"

  "What's queer? Why? How?" asked Alec in a breath.

  "Don't be a donkey! Carl Reitberg's queer."

  "Ill? He don't look it. Seems to be he's very much alive-o!"

  Dick turned an indignant, not to say angry glance upon his companion.

  "You are thick!" he said bluntly. "I wasn't referring to the health ofour estimable friend. I was referring to his actions. They're queer,ain't they?"

  "No--why? Why shouldn't he return by train and steamer if he wishes todo so?"

  "Because at breakfast this morning he told us all how he was enjoyingthe trip. Pretended even to have been charmed with our little brush withthose Pathans. Said nothing would induce him to part with the airshiptill she had landed him in England."

  "My! Yes. Greasy beggar," reflected Alec. "What's it mean? Playingdouble. But perhaps he ain't booking. Look here, I'll hop in and listento what's passing."

  Mr. Carl Reitberg was without a doubt booking a seat for Bombay. Alecsqueezed himself through the throng of Europeans in the booking office,and managed to reach a spot just behind the magnate. There he heard himenquiring for the next ship sailing from Bombay, and watched as hebooked a cabin.

  "You're right; it's mighty queer," he told Dick on returning. "What doesit mean?"

  "Everything, perhaps; perhaps nothing. He's foxy, and means to clearout, that's plain. But it don't say that he means us or the ship amischief. Not that I'd trust him. Sergeant Evans is full of dark hints,and could tell us a yarn, I'm sure, if we encouraged him. I'm going toset a watch on Mr. Reitberg."

  "Those beggarly brats," reflected the magnate, ten minutes later, whenhe emerged from the office and saw a gharri passing with our two youngfriends aboard. "Sight-seeing, I suppose. Well, they've not seen mebuying my ticket. No one has. I've thrown dust in their eyes nicely. NowI can return to the ship, wait my chance, and then----"

  It made him chuckle. He sat back in the gharri smiling and perspiring,mopping his forehead from time to time. And it was with a wonderfullyelastic step that he strode from the gharri to the airship, roughlypushing aside the throng of natives and entered the gallery.

  "It'll be a big affair," he told himself with a grim smile. "Of course,as I've said before, I'm sorry about the crew. But that's their lookout.A hundred or more of these natives blown to pieces will make not thesmallest difference. Dinner-time to-night'll suit admirably. Then we'reall aboard. The men'll be in their quarters, with perhaps one patrollingon the deck above, and two outside, to keep the curious natives at adistance. I'll be late for dinner; yes, that's the card to play. I sendmy compliments to Mr. Andrew, and beg to be excused as the heat hasupset me. Excellent! A splendid excuse. Then, when all's quiet, I setthe bombs in position, creep out of the ship, and while Delhi islamenting the terrible catastrophe, and thousands are chattering, Isimply board the train and take the road for England."

  He sat down in his cabin to mop his forehead again, and then took offhis coat and waistcoat. "Come in," he cried testily, to a knock at thedoor.

  It was Sergeant Evans, respectful and polite as ever. "Dinner h
alf anhour later this evening, sir," he said. "I'll put your things out now,so as not to disturb you later."

  "Terribly hot," gasped Carl. "Hardly feel as if I could eat anything.Shouldn't wonder if I didn't turn up for dinner, Sergeant."

  Like the well-trained, polite fellow he was the Sergeant expressed nosurprise. He merely touched the button which controlled the electric fanand set it going.

  "Hot in here, sir," he said. "That'll make things cooler. Hope you'llfeel better presently. Half-past six now, sir. Perhaps a little sleepwould put you right, and make you ready for dinner."

  "Perhaps," agreed Carl laconically, mopping his forehead again. "I'lltry. But don't disturb me. If I don't turn up after the gong has gone,leave me to myself. I'll be sleeping."

  The face of the Sergeant was inscrutable as he left the cabin. If itsaid anything at all, it expressed commiseration for this somewhat stoutand unwieldy sportsman, and the hope that he would soon feel morehimself. But if his features meant that, his immediately followingactions contrasted curiously with them. For the worthy Sergeant passedinto his own quarters, and from thence into his pantry. And by acurious freak of fortune that pantry happened to be immediately next tothe cabin occupied by the worthy Carl Reitberg.

  "Don't I know him? Oh no! Certainly not!" observed the Sergeant beneathhis breath. "Mr. Carl Reitberg, yes, that's his name now; I.D.B. back inSouth Africa in the old days. He's feeling queer, and he don't expecthe'll come along to dinner. Well, we'll hope he will. But we'll seewhat's happening in the meanwhile."

  So straightway he crept to the wall of the pantry, and slid aside a tinypanel, some two inches long, and of half that height. It was quite asimple contrivance, and had merely required a sharp knife and a slip ofsheet celludine. A hot iron had cemented the runners of this slide tothe wall, while anyone entering either the pantry or the adjacent cabinwould have found it difficult to detect this opening. An inch-squareaperture gave a wide view of the quarters allotted to the magnate, andof that individual himself.

  "Felt ill, did he? Poor chap!" observed the Sergeant. "Thought he'dfollow my advice and have a sleep. Looks like trying, don't he?"

  The fat form of the magnate was engaged at that precise moment inanything but an attempt to fall asleep. He was leaning over thatprecious box which he had brought aboard with him, and which he wouldhave others believe contained valuables of great interest. The sealswere broken already, and half a dozen of the screws with which the lidwas secured were already drawn. The magnate was puffing heavily in hisefforts to loosen one which was strangely tight and refractory. Atlength, however, after a fierce struggle, he succeeded, and some tenminutes later had the box open.

  "And here's where the fun begins," said the watching Sergeant. "I'm askeen as possible to see what he's got in that box, and what he'll dowith 'em. Ah! Two nicely rolled parcels, Mr. Carl, fresh and clean fromthe hands that wrapped 'em in Old England. Valuables, to be sure!Priceless; deserved a safe if only this ship would have carried one."

  There was a grim smile on his lips as he closely watched the movementsof the scoundrel bending over the box. For here indeed was aconspirator. If there had been any doubt, the man's own movements wouldhave betrayed his uneasiness, his guilty thoughts, for Carl wasdecidedly uneasy. Never a man of courage, rather the reverse, as he hadabundantly proved, the doing of this miserable and wicked deed hecontemplated shook him severely. Though he imagined he had braced up hisshaky nerves for the adventure, and though he encouraged himself by thethought that there was no personal danger in the matter, no fear ofdiscovery, and no difficulty in getting clear away, yet he wasfrightened, frightened of his own image. It caused the Sergeant tosmile, indeed, when Carl, suddenly catching sight of his own reflectionin the mirror opposite him, blanched and gripped the table.

  "Gave me quite a turn," he gasped, his strong accent more noticeablethan ever. "_Himmel!_ But this deed requires more force than I hadimagined. But there is no danger. Can be none while I have my ticket forthe train and boat in my pocket. As for the bombs, they cannot explodetill the clockwork is wound. Then I merely set the hands to the hour atwhich I desire the explosion, and--leave."

  "Very simple," smiled the Sergeant. "And I wonder where he'll put hisbombs and how this ship's going to suffer. Of all the rascals I ever seteyes on, it's him. Sportsman! Tish!"

  He had seen enough, and went off to the saloon to lay his table and makeready for dinner. There was a thoughtful look upon his face, anexpectant smile which boded little goodwill for Mr. Reitberg. As forDick and Alec, they were nonplussed by the disappearance of the one theyhad determined to watch. He had gone to ground in his cabin and wasresting there.

  "Having a sleep, sir," the Sergeant told them naively. "Finds itprecious hot. Don't fancy he'll turn up for dinner."

  "Then I'm going straight to Joe and Mr. Andrew," Dick whispered to Alec."We've found out that this sportsman's going to hook it. Then what's heup to?"

  "Something, perhaps; nothing, perhaps. Let's hang on a bit and watchwhen the others are at dinner. Carl can't slip out of his cabin by thewindow, now can he?"

  Dick admitted the fact briskly.

  "Then he has to come by way of the gallery. Good! We watch at eitherend. We nab him if he tries hanky-panky."

  "And if he don't. Supposing he just clears off for the station?"

  The question was somewhat of a facer, for how could Dick and Alec theninterfere? Carl had as much right to leave the ship as they had. Then,supposing he went by the ordinary route, through the gallery and so intothe open, who could arrest him? It would be an outrage, a breach of goodmanners; worse, in fact.

  "Oh, let's leave that question to later," said Dick airily. "He ain'tgoing by the window, that's certain. Then we watch at each end of thegallery, and if he gets up to monkey tricks, why, we bowl him over."

  Little did the magnate imagine that three at least of his fellowpassengers were waiting for his appearance. Not that the worthy Sergeantshowed much concern. Now and again, on his numerous visits to thepantry, he slid that panel aside and squinted into the cabin. But hewent on with his duties, prepared the table, set the chairs, and finallyrang the gong briskly. As he did so the clock in the saloon chimedeight. It was precisely half an hour after Mr. Andrew's usual hour fordinner, and with soldier-like exactness the Sergeant announced the mealat the very moment for which it had been ordered. He escorted Joe andhis uncle, the Commander and the Major, to their places, announced thatMr. Reitberg wished to be excused, and murmured in Joe's ear the factthat Dick and Alec had returned to the ship and had then departed again.

  "Then we won't wait," said Andrew brusquely. "Let us go on with themeal."

  "Certainly, sir," replied the Sergeant.

  At once he served the soup, with the help of an assistant. Then he tookhis stand behind Andrew, waiting and watching the diners as becomes awell-trained attendant. But had he forgotten the rascal in that adjacentcabin? Had he allowed the matter to escape his mind? It would seem so,indeed, though there was no excuse, for but a matter of ten minutesearlier he had watched the crafty Carl set the hands of his two clocksto eight-fifteen and wind the springs. Why, he must be mad, crazy, forat that very moment Carl Reitberg was preparing to emerge from hiscabin. But Sergeant Evans went on with his waiting methodically. Heremoved the empty soup plates and the tureen, and having placed clean,hot plates before the diners handed the fish to each in turn. There wasno hurry about his movements, no sign of anxiety about his face. He didnot even bother to observe the clock. Instead, he offered sherry to eachof the gentlemen present, put the decanter back upon the sideboard, andmotioned to his assistant to hasten to the kitchen for the next course.It was ten minutes after the hour. In five minutes those bombs withwhich the dastardly Carl hoped to wreck the vessel would explode. Infive short minutes----Hark! What was that? Joe turned slowly in hischair. Andrew glanced across at the Major.

  "Dick and Alec larking again," observed the Commander dryly. "A littlemore shipboard discipline is what our Mr. Dicky Hamshaw requires.
What anoise the brats are making."

  There was indeed quite an uproar in the gallery outside. The voices ofHawkins, Hurst, and Larkin were heard in succession. And then the doorof the saloon was burst unceremoniously open, figures appeared outside,and a moment later Carl Reitberg was thrust into the chamber, Hawkinsand Larkin gripping his shoulders, while Dick and Alec followedimmediately behind them.

  "Caught him in the act, sir!" shouted Dick, excitedly, addressingAndrew. "Watched him place two bombs in position along the gallery. Herethey are. At least we guess they're bombs, though they're wrapped inpaper."

  That saloon had never before witnessed such a curious gathering, norsuch excitement if one describes the matter fully. Not that Joe and hisfellow diners betrayed great concern. Their stern faces merely showeddisgust, loathing for this Carl Reitberg, while the well-trainedSergeant looked on with polite indifference, showing just a trace ofannoyance, as if he objected to the dinner being so unceremoniouslydisturbed. But there coolness ceased altogether. Dick and Alec weredishevelled, red-hot with excitement, trembling with the importance oftheir discovery. Hawkins's broad face showed a righteous anger which wason the point of boiling over, while Private Larkin's fierce face gaveone the idea that he was within an ace of exploding. In the centre,pinioned by the arms, pale and wabbling, was the magnate, speechlesswith fright, his pig-like eyes rolling with terror.

  THE COLLAPSE OF CARL REITBERG

  _Page 276_]

  It was one of those unexpected situations when one would have feltsurprise if the dinner were not abandoned, the crew of the ship aroused,and a huge commotion set going. But Andrew Provost had already givenabundant proof of his coolness. Joe, too, was not so easily frightened,while a calm demeanour on the part of the Commander and the Major was tobe expected. But no one would quite have anticipated the line of actionwhich Andrew adopted.

  "And so you have discovered this Mr. Reitberg, our guest aboard, in themidst of an attempt to wreck the vessel!" he said softly. "Well, well,you may be mistaken."

  "Impossible, sir," cried Alec. "We watched him first. He's a ruffian."

  "But--but still there may be some little error," Andrew asserted. "Wewill give our guest the benefit of the doubt for the moment andinvestigate the matter. Place a chair there for him, Sergeant."

  "But--but these beastly things are set to go off in four minutes,"shouted Dick suddenly. "Look, sir. I've stripped the paper from thebombs. There's a clock attached to the outside of each. It's ticking,and the hands are set at eight-fifteen. They'll explode then and blowthe place to pieces."

  "Four minutes, you said. I make it but three," Joe exclaimed of asudden, taking the bombs. "That's too bad. Dick, you must give it up ashopeless. You couldn't possibly get these bombs away to a safe distancein that short space of time. Eh, Major?"

  "Hopeless. Let 'em cut and run, Dick and Alec and the others. I'm tooold to make the attempt. Put the bombs on the table."

  Was everyone mad? Had these diners gone completely crazy? Dick lookedround in bewilderment, and went scarlet with anger. For the Major wasactually sipping his sherry, while Joe was thrusting a morsel of fishinto his mouth. As for the Sergeant, he placed a chair for the magnatebetween Joe and Andrew, plumped that perspiring and shaking individualinto it, and having taken the two bombs from Dick put them on the tablewithin a foot of Carl Reitberg. We make no excuse for Hawkins and hisfriend. They turned at Andrew's nod and bolted.

  "Not for me, thanks," said Dick desperately. "Sherry, please, Sergeant."

  "Ditto," gasped Alec, seating himself.

  "In fact, we swim or sink together. Or shall we say, we stand shoulderto shoulder awaiting the last great flight of this giant vessel?"

  There was a quizzing tone in the Major's voice, and he was actuallywinking. Winking! And so was the Sergeant.

  "Sherry, sir. Yes, sir," he observed, in his ordinary, matter-of-facttones, placing a glass before our two young heroes. "And don't youexpect nothing," he whispered. "Them things is O.K. You'll yet eat adinner."

  Meanwhile things were hardly going comfortably for Mr. Reitberg. Therascal sat far back in his chair, tilting it backward, his two handsgripping the table, and his bulging eyes fixed on the hands of the twoclocks attached to his infernal machines. He was livid with fear. Acold, clammy perspiration covered his forehead. His fat cheeks shook andwobbled in an ugly manner, and what little hair he had positivelybristled. His breath came in choking grunts, wheezing from his lungs,while his lips were dry and parted.

  "One minute more; only one minute," he gasped at last, staring at theclock faces. "Only one minute."

  "Pardon--rather more. Perhaps two or three seconds," observed the Majoricily. "Then, Mr. Reitberg----"

  "Take me away. Let me leave the place. Throw those bombs out of thewindow--I say, throw them away. They'll explode; they'll kill me.They'll tear me to pieces."

  The wretch foamed at the mouth, his attention concentrated all the whileon those two clock faces. His eyes were bloodshot now, his nails digginglike talons into the table.

  "Then they are really bombs? You actually meant to wreck the vessel?"asked Andrew.

  But the rascal cowering in a frenzy of terror at the table hardly seemedto hear his words, much less to heed them. He was bending lower now,ducking his head, and yet looking upward from beneath his brows at thehands on those two dials. They were near the quarter. In ten secondsthey would reach the point at which he had set the trigger. And then----

  "Take me away!" he screamed, foaming at the mouth, and looking hideousin his terror. "Kill me now. Shoot me. Don't let me be blown to piecesby these bombs. Ah! I will kill myself."

  He made a desperate effort to seize a knife from the table, and no doubtwould have done himself some severe injury. But the Commander seized hisarm.

  "No," he said sternly. "This is your trial, a trial of your own making.Learn now what it is to set bombs to slaughter other people. Endure tothe full the torment that others were to suffer."

  The strain was too great for the magnate. A gurgling cry escaped him,and a moment later he was stretched full length on the carpet.

  "Call in the others," commanded Joe curtly. "Let us go on with ourdinner. And by the way, Sergeant, tell Mr. Dick and his friend thatthere's no danger."

  "No danger!" shouted the midshipman. "None! Why, I've been hanging on tomy chair hard expecting to be blown to pieces."

  "Like Mr. Reitberg, only different," smiled Andrew. "Lads, you've shownsplendid pluck. Now, let's eat. As for the bombs, they happen to beempty."