Chapter Twenty
Doomed to Death
There was no room on the small deck of the submarine to make a standagainst the officers and crew of the Brazilian warship. In fact, thecapture of the gold-seekers had been effected so suddenly that theirastonishment almost deprived them of the power to think clearly.
At another command from the officer, who was addressed as AdmiralFanchetti, several of the sailors began to lead Tom and his friendstoward the small boat.
"Do you feel all right, father?" inquired the lad anxiously, as helooked at his parent. "These scoundrels have no right to treat us so."
"Yes, Tom, I'm all right as far as the electric shock is concerned, butI don't like to be handled in this fashion."
"We ought not to submit!" burst out Mr. Damon. "Bless the stars andstripes! We ought to fight."
"There's no chance," said Mr. Sharp. "We are right under the guns ofthe ship. They could sink us with one shot. I guess we'll have to givein for the time being."
"It is most unpleasant, if I may be allowed the expression," commentedCaptain Weston mildly. He seemed to have lost his sudden anger, butthere was a steely glint in his eyes, and a grim, set look around hismonth that showed his temper was kept under control only by an effort.It boded no good to the sailors who had hold of the doughty captain ifhe should once get loose, and it was noticed that they were on theirguard.
As for Tom, he submitted quietly to the two Brazilians who had hold ofeither arm, and Mr. Swift was held by only one, for it was seen that hewas feeble.
"Into the boat with them!" cried Admiral Fanchetti. "And guard themwell, Lieutenant Drascalo, for I heard them plotting to escape," andthe admiral signaled to a younger officer, who was in charge of the menguarding the prisoners.
"Lieutenant Drascalo, eh?" murmured Mr. Damon. "I think they made amistake naming him. It ought to be Rascalo. He looks like a rascal."
"Silenceo!" exclaimed the lieutenant, scowling at the odd character.
"Bless my spark plug! He's a regular fire-eater!" went on Mr. Damon,who appeared to have fully recovered his spirits.
"Silenceo!" cried the lieutenant, scowling again, but Mr. Damon did notappear to mind.
Admiral Fanchetti and several others of the gold-laced officersremained aboard the submarine, while Tom and his friends were hustledinto the small boat and rowed toward the warship.
"I hope they don't damage our craft," murmured the young inventor, ashe saw the admiral enter the conning tower.
"If they do, we'll complain to the United States consul and demanddamages," said Mr. Swift.
"I'm afraid we won't have a chance to communicate with the consul,"remarked Captain Weston.
"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Damon. "Bless my shoelaces, but willthese scoundrels--"
"Silenceo!" cried Lieutenant Drascalo quickly. "Dogs of Americans, doyou wish to insult us?"
"Impossible; you wouldn't appreciate a good, genuine United Statesinsult," murmured Tom under his breath.
"What I mean," went on the captain, "is that these people may carry theproceedings off with a high hand. You heard the admiral speak of acourt-martial."
"Would they dare do that?" inquired Mr. Sharp.
"They would dare anything in this part of the world, I'm afraid,"resumed Captain Weston. "I think I see their plan, though. This admiralis newly in command; his uniform shows that. He wants to make a name forhimself, and he seizes on our submarine as an excuse. He can send wordto his government that he destroyed a torpedo craft that sought towreck his ship. Thus he will acquire a reputation."
"But would his government support him in such a hostile act against theUnited States, a friendly nation?" asked Tom.
"Oh, he would not claim to have acted against the United States as apower. He would say that it was a private submarine, and, as a matterof fact, it is. While we are under the protection of the stars andstripes, our vessel is not a Government one," and Captain Weston spokethe last in a low voice, so the scowling lieutenant could not hear.
"What will they do with us?" inquired Mr. Swift.
"Have some sort of a court-martial, perhaps," went on the captain, "andconfiscate our craft. Then they will send us back home, I expect forthey would not dare harm us."
"But take our submarine!" cried Tom. "The villains--"
"Silenceo!" shouted Lieutenant Drascalo and he drew his sword.
By this time the small boat was under the big guns of the San Paulo,and the prisoners were ordered, in broken English, to mount a companionladder that hung over the side. In a short time they were on deck, amida crowd of sailors, and they could see the boat going back to bring offthe admiral, who signaled from the submarine. Tom and his friends weretaken below to a room that looked like a prison, and there, a littlelater, they were visited by Admiral Fanchetti and several officers.
"You will be tried at once," said the admiral. "I have examined yoursubmarine and I find she carries two torpedo tubes. It is a wonder youdid not sink me at once."
"Those are not torpedo tubes!" cried Tom, unable to keep silent, thoughCaptain Weston motioned him to do so.
"I know torpedo tubes when I see them," declared the admiral. "Iconsider I had a very narrow escape. Your country is fortunate thatmine does not declare war against it for this act. But I take it youare acting privately, for you fly no flag, though you claim to be fromthe United States."
"There's no place for a flag on the submarine," went on Tom. "What goodwould it be under water?"
"Silenceo!" cried Lieutenant Drascalo, the admonition to silenceseeming to be the only command of which he was capable.
"I shall confiscate your craft for my government," went on the admiral,"and shall punish you as the court-martial may direct. You will betried at once."
It was in vain for the prisoners to protest. Matters were carried witha high hand. They were allowed a spokesman, and Captain Weston, whounderstood Spanish, was selected, that language being used. But thedefense was a farce, for he was scarcely listened to. Several officerstestified before the admiral, who was judge, that they had seen thesubmarine rise out of the water, almost under the prow of the SanPaulo. It was assumed that the Advance had tried to wreck the warship,but had failed. It was in vain that Captain Weston and the others toldof the reason for their rapid ascent from the ocean depths--that Mr.Swift had been shocked, and needed fresh air. Their story was notbelieved.
"We have heard enough!" suddenly exclaimed the admiral. "The evidenceagainst you is over-whelming--er--what you Americans call conclusive,"and he was speaking then in broken English. "I find you guilty, and thesentence of this court-martial is that you be shot at sunrise, threedays hence!"
"Shot!" cried Captain Weston, staggering back at this unexpectedsentence. His companions turned white, and Mr. Swift leaned against hisson for support.
"Bless my stars! Of all the scoundrelly!" began Mr. Damon.
"Silenceo!" shouted the lieutenant, waving his sword.
"You will be shot," proceeded the admiral. "Is not that the verdict ofthe honorable court?" he asked, looking at his fellow officers. Theyall nodded gravely.
"But look here!" objected Captain Weston. "You don't dare do that! Weare citizens of the United States, and--"
"I consider you no better than pirates," interrupted the admiral. "Youhave an armed submarine--a submarine with torpedo tubes. You invade ourharbor with it, and come up almost under my ship. You have forfeitedyour right to the protection of your country, and I have no fear onthat score. You will be shot within three days. That is all. Removethe prisoners."
Protests were in vain, and it was equally useless to struggle. Theprisoners were taken out on deck, for which they were thankful, for theinterior of the ship was close and hot, the weather being intenselydisagreeable. They were told to keep within a certain space on deck,and a guard of sailors, all armed, was placed near them. From wherethey were they could see their submarine floating on the surface of thelittle bay, with several Brazilians on the small deck. The Advance ha
dbeen anchored, and was surrounded by a flotilla of the native boats,the brown-skinned paddlers gazing curiously at the odd craft.
"Well, this is tough luck!" murmured Tom. "How do you feel, dad?"
"As well as can be expected under the circumstances," was the reply."What do you think about this, Captain Weston?"
"Not very much, if I may be allowed the expression," was the answer.
"Do you think they will dare carry out that threat?" asked Mr. Sharp.
The captain shrugged his shoulders. "I hope it is only a bluff," hereplied, "made to scare us so we will consent to giving up thesubmarine, which they have no right to confiscate. But these fellowslook ugly enough for anything," he went on.
"Then if there's any chance of them attempting to carry it out," spokeTom, "we've got to do something."
"Bless my gizzard, of course!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "But what? That'sthe question. To be shot! Why, that's a terrible threat! The villains--"
"Silenceo!" shouted Lieutenant Drascalo, coming up at that moment.
Tom Swift and His Submarine Boat; Or, Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasure Page 20