The Mystery of the Mud Flats

by Maurice Drake

  At the last Van Noppen said we could see him part way home—as far as the Luck and Charity—but Voogdt refused.

  ‘I aint goin’ t’ risk my life on them ’mbankmen’s t’night,’ he announced, with an attempt at sobriety. ‘I know when I’ve ’ad my whack. I sh’ sleep ’ere. You better, too, guv’nor.’

  ‘I’m going aboard,’ I said.

  ‘No. Sleep ’ere. All sleep ’ere. Don’ awn’ no Dutch crowner’s inquest in th’ mornin’. Nasty marks passed about condition, leavin’ th’ pub night afore. All stay.’

  Van Noppen agreed, though he had seemed inclined to come with me when I said I should go, and we ordered four rooms. After a bit of horse-play between Voogdt and Van Noppen, in which more tumblers were smashed, we dragged Cheyne upstairs and put him to bed, after a fashion, and then Voogdt insisted on seeing me in bed too.

  ‘Ol’ rascal,’ he said, leering. ‘Keep an eye on ’im, we must.’

  They both stayed in my room till I had turned in, by which time Voogdt was asleep in a chair. Van Noppen stirred him up and got him outside the room, and by an altercation in the passage I judged he was insisting on seeing Van Noppen in bed too. ‘’Nother ol’ rascal,’ I heard him say, and finally they went off together.

  I was just dozing off to sleep, angry at having wasted an evening, and puzzled to death wondering what on earth Voogdt thought he was playing at, when my door opened very softly, and his voice called me in a whisper. I was out of bed and at the door in a moment.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Dress, and drink a drop of this.’

  He pushed a small square bottle into my hands and was gone as silently as he had entered. I pulled out the cork in the dark, smelt a pungent and familiar odour, and took a draught as he had ordered.

  I thought I was killed! The stuff caught me in the throat, burning, so that my eyes stuck out and ran with tears, and cold sweat broke out on my temples. Thinking he’d gone mad and poisoned me, I struck a light with shaking hands, and found that the poison was nothing worse than Worcester sauce. Then I saw what he was at. I took a sip or two, more gingerly, and it pulled me together somewhat. Then I shuffled on my still warm clothes again, blew out the light, and sat down in a chair to await events.

  CHAPTER XVII

  VOOGDT DESERTS AGAIN

  THE house sank to stillness and quiet, only broken by a faint growl of voices—Voogdt talking in Van Noppen’s room, I supposed—and soon even that monotone ceased altogether. After the silly riot and noise of the evening the silence seemed ominous and depressing instead of restful. I felt rotten: tired, my head beginning to ache, a vile taste in my mouth; and the window being open, I crept to it, stocking-footed, and put my head out to breathe the cold night air, hoping it would freshen me up a bit.

  The room was on the first floor, the window facing the sleeping village under the embankment, and the night being clear—though very dark, with heavy clouds hanging low and a slight drizzle falling—streaks and spots of light showed here and there through chinks in cottage window shutters like gold specks on black velvet. It was very still, and the little town was silent as the grave, and but for the sparks of light very near as dark. As I knelt by the sill one o’clock struck from the church spire, and in the stillness the stroke of the bell was like an actual blow upon my aching head.

  My head fell forward on my arms, and I was nearly asleep when the door opened again behind me.

  ‘That you, Austin?’

  Though I whispered low, he slid a hand over my mouth before leaning out of the window beside me to peer into the darkness below. I looked, too, but could see nothing, strain my eyes as I would. Nor, I believe, could he; but making no more delay, he took my hand in his, made me feel that his boots were tied around his neck, and then pushed a leg over the sill and began to wriggle out after it, holding tightly to my wrists. When his shoulders were level with the sill he stopped as though he had found foothold, felt with his feet for a moment, and then let go my hands and stepped out of sight. In a few seconds his head rose again.

  ‘Roof,’ he breathed almost inaudibly in my ear. ‘Come.’ I only stopped to lock the door and then picked up my boots and slid after him.

  Some cookhouse or scullery had been built out from the back of the hotel, and its roof came exactly under my window. To slide from that to the ground was easy enough, and in less than a minute we had crept round the corner of the hotel and were crossing the lock-gates. Through my stockings I could feel their smooth woodwork wet and cold.

  My teeth were chattering when we reached the opposite bank and sat down in the muddy roadway to put on our boots.

  ‘What the devil are you up to?’ I asked Voogdt angrily.

  ‘Visit of inspection to the German sheds,’ he whispered. ‘Van Noppen’s asleep and snoring. I put in a quarter of an hour lying on the passage floor outside his room to make sure. We shan’t get such a chance again. Come along.’

  ‘Which way are you going?’

  ‘Inland and across the fields.’

  I followed him, scrambling down inside the embankment, and knee-deep through the ditch beside it, and we set off at a jog-trot across the muddy pastures.

  ‘Run,’ said he. ‘That’ll warm us.’ And we ran as best we could, slipping and sliding at almost every other step.

  Even at the start I think I must have been too far gone for running to warm me. I only got out of breath, and had to stop and blow again and again, feeling colder than ever. The grass was wet and slippery. the drizzle was increasing to a steady downpour, and to make matters worse the fields were divided by ditches in place of hedges, and as we couldn’t jump them in the dark we were constantly having to wade, generally knee-deep, and once as high as the waist. I don’t ever remember feeling so washed out, exhausted and wretched.

  As far as we could judge we kept a course parallel with the embankment, and at last were rewarded by catching sight of a vaguely outlined hummock that must have been one of our store-sheds by the wharf. Then Voogdt ceased running and advanced more cautiously, whilst I followed stupidly at his heels, too tired even to feel curious about what we should do when we got to the German settlement.

  We must have been about half-way from our wharf to theirs when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. My eyes were growing more accustomed to the darkness and I could make out that he held up a hand as though to enjoin silence.

  ‘Hear that?’ he whispered.

  I listened, but at first could hear nothing but the steady hiss of the falling rain. Then I became aware of a sound which obtruded itself on the hearing—a sound quite foreign to soft, muddy pastures. It was a crisp clinking sound, apparently coming from the top of the embankment, and it alternated with a harsh scraping as of stone on iron.

  ‘Hear that?’ he whispered again.

  ‘Somebody shovelling stones,’ I mumbled.

  ‘I believe you’re right. Stay here.’

  He disappeared in the darkness and left me standing alone, my head nodding on my breast, half stupefied. The clinking continued, and once I thought I heard men’s voices. Before I was sure—indeed, I was past being sure of anything, beyond that I would have given ten years of life to be allowed to fall asleep before a fire—Voogdt was back at my side.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, and we set off again in the same direction as before.

  Slipping about on the mud behind him, it seemed years—and actually was, I suppose, a quarter of an hour—before we found ourselves scrambling over newly broken ground heaped up into a shallow embankment. Here the mud, bare of grass, was worse than ever, and it was difficult even to stand upright. Once I fell on all-fours, but Voogdt dragged me to my feet; and in another moment we were sliding down the other side of the embankment and sidling our way along a wall that felt as though it were made of plaited rope. By now I was past wondering even at this, only thinking dully that my fingers must be paralysed with cold. When we came to the end of the wall we were standing under the river embankment and looking up a
t the sheds upon it. They were plainly visible against the sky, owing, I suppose, to some faint reflected light from the water on the other side.

  Here Voogdt took me by the shoulders and shook me. ‘Pull yourself together,’ he whispered angrily.

  ‘I’m nearly gone in,’ I said. ‘That wall felt just like ropes.’

  ‘It was rope, you fool. Explosive screens. You’re all right. I’m going to chance it and see if I can get into those sheds up there. Can—will you come?’

  ‘I’ll try,’ I said. He dropped on all-fours, and we crawled up the embankment, one behind another, like a pair of otters.

  I have only the faintest recollection of what happened after that. Looking back, it all seems like a drunkard’s dream, sometimes startingly vivid and sometimes a blank. I remember seeing Voogdt’s head from behind peering round an open doorway against a dim-lit interior, but how he got the door open I have no idea. I must have followed him in, but I have no recollection of it. I remember sitting in a comfortable chair in a clean, neat room with varnished deal walls lit by one lamp, turned very low, and drinking a glass of Schiedam that he handed me, and being very sick after it, and I remember seeing muddy stains from my fingers on the glass. There was a big roll-top desk against one wall, and Voogdt must have broken into it whilst I was being sick, for I watched him stupidly as he pulled open drawer after drawer, stuffing papers into his coat pockets I remember a large brass telescope fixed on a heavy stand and staring blindly at the boarded wall, and wondered why it wasn’t at a window, until I noticed that all the windows in the room were above the level of one’s head. Then I gave up that problem. There were some coils of insulated wire in a corner of the room, and one or two large accumulators, and after wondering what they were for, I soon gave that up as incomprehensible, too. And the next thing I remember is being back in the Luck and Charity, the stove burning almost red hot, and Voogdt plying me with hot tea, and helping me out of my wet and dirty clothes. His face was white and drawn, and he was to the full as filthy as myself. Then comes a longer blank, and I remember nothing more until I woke to find Voogdt shaking me and trying to drag me out of my bunk. It was still dark, and I had a hazy idea that I’d slept the clock round.

  ‘Let me be,’ I begged him.

  ‘I daren’t, Jem. We’ve got to be back in our rooms at the hotel before daylight, and it’s four now. We must, man. It pretty well means life or death to us.’

  ‘I’m aching all over,’ I grumbled.

  ‘I’m no better. You’ve had an hour’s sleep. I’ve had none. Come out of it. Here are dry underclothes, your next best serge and clean boots. If we get away quickly and wear our overcoats he may not notice we’ve changed. Perhaps he won’t see us, even.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Van Noppen, of course. Hurry. Hurry, I tell you.’

  I got into the clothes somehow and we staggered ashore and towards Terneuzen. Dawn was almost breaking, but it was still pretty dark, and raining heavier than ever, so no one was about. Even the pilot-house was closed, and only a wisp of smoke from its chimney showed that it wasn’t deserted altogether.

  That climb on the cookhouse roof about finished me. I dragged off my coat and boots and fell on the bed with all the rest of my clothes on, utterly gone in. As to Voogdt, I don’t know what became of him. I must have been asleep before he left the room.

  When he woke me again, Van Noppen was with him, and I pulled the clothes up to my chin for fear he should see I was half dressed. Voogdt saw the movement and edged a little closer to the bed in case the German should start any horse-play like pulling off the blankets.

  ‘Halloo, Captain,’ Van Noppen greeted me. ‘Elefen o’clock … How is your het?’

  ‘Awful!’ I said. I turned on the pillow as though to avoid the light, and groaned aloud.

  ‘Haf a branty an’ soda.’ He had a glass of the beastly stuff ready in his hand.

  ‘I’d rather have a cup of tea.’

  ‘Right-o, skipper,’ said Voogdt, and rang to order one.

  ‘How’s Cheyne?’ I asked.

  ‘Mr Cheyne, ’e ain’t very well this mornin’. Late howers, they don’t agree wiv ’im. ’Es ’ad two brandies an’ sodas a’ready—an ’e looked like wantin’ ’em.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘Ow, I’m aw right.’ He was pale as death, utterly washed out and wearied, his eyes hollow and dark with exhaustion; but he protested cheerfully: ‘I’m aw right, skipper. Not azackly in the pink, per’aps, but you cawn’t ’ave sprees wivout payin’ for ’em, can yer?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ I said, as the tea arrived. ‘Now give me that cup of tea and clear out. I’m going to dress.’

  Breakfast was the final ordeal. All four of us were wrecks, to all appearance suffering from the same complaint. Either Cheyne or Voogdt would have served a teetotal lecturer as a Terrible Example, and I must have looked every whit as bad as either of them. Van Noppen, with German neatness had made some attempt to brush his hair and tidy himself generally, but his eyes were a beautiful shade of rose-pink and his manner was distinctly depressed. Very likely he was reflecting that his plans for the previous evening had miscarried somewhat. Not one of us had shaved, and taken in the lump we must have made a very pretty picture of a drunkard’s quartet. But whilst Cheyne and Van Noppen had no appetites whatever, Voogdt and myself were ravenously hungry, and it was maddening to be compelled to pass one savoury-smelling dish after another, and content ourselves with dry bread and coffee.

  But we did it somehow, and got away to the Luck and Charity just after midday. Van Noppen came with us, leaving us at our wharf and walking on homewards down the embankment. Before he had gone a hundred yards we were down below, standing at the cabin table eating cold meat and bread with our fingers, and watching his receding figure through the open skylight.

  ‘He’s got a surprise waiting for him,’ said Voogdt, with his mouth full.

  ‘What did you do down there? I was past taking notice.’

  ‘You were. I never thought you’d collapse like that, Jem. What was the matter with you?’

  ‘Drink, man. I let myself go, sewing up that chap. How was I to know you had this jaunt in view?’

  ‘I couldn’t well tell you, could I? I wonder if ’Kiah heard us come aboard? We must find that out amongst other things … Oh I I am tired, Jem! And there’s tons to do before I can sleep.’

  ‘What’s to do?’

  ‘Our clothes to clean; papers to read and burn; our best boots to be burnt or sunk in midstream. We’ve left tracks in that mud down there, for certain.’

  ‘I’ll do all that. You turn in.’

  ‘Dare I? … Yes, I will. It’ll be an hour or two before Van Noppen decides what to do next. But take care what you’re about. We’re watched all the time—that telescope—’

  ‘I remember seeing that. But, seems to me it was clamped down facing a dead wall.’

  ‘Pointing dead at us, here, though. The board in front of it was loose, and for certain it’s screened from view outside. Where’s my glasses?’ He put them to the open skylight and stared through them for half a minute. ‘Here, look,’ he said at last, handing them to me. ‘That’s the room we were in, the second shed from here.’

  I remembered it well—remembered describing it to Cheyne when first the sheds were built. The glasses brought it nearer, and showed a pile of boards heaped carelessly against its hither side.

  ‘I see some deals leaning against the shed,’ I told him.

  ‘Yes.’ He was getting into his bunk. ‘They’re there to screen the hole in the wall. Van Noppen can watch us from between them to his heart’s content.’

  ‘Sure?’ I said doubtfully. Even with my mind full of our crazy night’s expedition the idea sounded fantastic.

  Voogdt swore at me aloud. Exhausted as he was, I suppose his temper was thin.

  ‘You’re the most thick-headed fool I ever met,’ he said angrily. ‘What are they for else? D’ye ever hear of any sane man storing deals on t
heir ends out of doors in damp winter weather? They’d warp out of true after a single day of such treatment. You know they would. But I’m too done up to argue with you now. Here’s Van Noppen’s correspondence under my pillow, and I’m going to sleep. You mount guard and don’t you let a soul put a foot into this cabin until I give you leave. Wake me if anyone comes this way from the German sheds, and don’t forget you’re being watched all the time.’

  He pulled the blankets over him and I went on deck and had a chat with ’Kiah. He made no mention of anything unusual happening during the night, so it was evident he hadn’t heard us come aboard, which was fortunate for once, though it gave me misgivings as to his value as a night-watchman. However, I couldn’t remember his having been left alone in the same way before, so that probably his heavy slumbers hadn’t harmed us as yet.

  Bearing the telescope in mind I didn’t pay any attention openly to the German sheds, only glancing down there from time to time out of the corner of my eye to see if anything was doing. A barge was being loaded at their wharf, men going to and fro between the boat and sheds, but there was nothing unusual about that Van Noppen was invisible—watching us, perhaps, though more likely he was sitting indoors scratching his head over the state of his living-room. As for us, we had nearly all our ballast aboard, and when the tide cleared the banks I went below intending to wake Voogdt and ask instructions.

  He was out of bed, sitting before the little stove, reading and burning stolen papers one by one.

  ‘Anything interesting?’ I asked.

  He shook his head. ‘Not a thing. Nothing but bona-fide business estimates and orders. Looks as if we hadn’t done much good by our jaunt.’

  ‘What did you expect?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I’ll tell you one thing I didn’t expect, and that was to find the place deserted and Van Noppen’s men all out road-mending at half-past one a.m. of a dirty night.’