A Lively Bit of the Front: A Tale of the New Zealand Rifles on the Western Front
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CHAPTER XXVII
The End of a Spy
"By gum, Peter, we'll have to make ourselves precious scarce whilethis trip's on." exclaimed Malcolm as he rejoined his brother in thesteerage of the S.S. _Koning der Zee_ after a tour of inspection.
"Eh? What's wrong now?" enquired Peter, busily engaged inoverhauling the contents of a small kit provided by his friends atRoermonde.
"Nothing wrong," said his brother. "On the contrary, it's a bit ofquite all right. I've just seen a delightful old pal, KonradWhat's-his-Tally, otherwise Pieter Waas of Muizenburg fame. Youremember I told you about him just before we said good-bye to Dueren:how he diddled Fortescue, Selwyn, and me at the Cape and wascollared on board the _Pomfret Castle_, and afterwards managed tojoin the N. Z. Rifle Brigade."
"I remember, but I thought he went sky-high when the great mine wentoff at Messines," remarked the elder Carr.
"There was a doubt about it," admitted Malcolm, "but the factremains that he's on board this vessel. Except that he has bleachedhis hair, he has made no attempt to disguise himself. Suppose heimagined that it wouldn't be safe to trust to a false beard, oranything like that. The landing authorities would spot it. So wemust keep well out of his way until we go ashore at Harwich."
"Why both of us?" asked Peter. "I've never met him, and he's neverrun across me as far as I know. I'm in mufti, and so are you. Idon't suppose he'd spot you in that rig-out."
"I'm not going to give him the chance," declared Malcolm. "In spiteof the fact that he's travelling first class and we're mere dirt inthe steerage, I mean to keep below, out of sight."
The _Koning der Zee_ was still berthed alongside the wharf at TheHook. "Blue Peter" was hoisted at the fore, while the Dutch nationalensign floated from her ensign staff. Her sides were painted in red,white, and blue horizontal stripes, while amidships her name wasdisplayed in letters six feet in height--in conformity with anarbitrary regulation made by an unscrupulous nation whose U-boatsdid not hesitate to torpedo at sight, despite the distinguishingmarks of neutral craft.
The mail-boat's passenger-list was a light one. There were about adozen repatriated Britons from Ruhleben, a score of Dutch merchants,the two New Zealanders, and the spy, Konrad von Feldoffer.
The latter, posing as a Gelderland potato-merchant, was on a highlyimportant mission on behalf of his Imperial master in connectionwith the landing of United States troops in England. At firstscorning the idea that Uncle Sam could render personal aid, the Hunswere beginning to realize that the Americans were doing somethinggreat, and not merely "talking big". Von Feldoffer was, therefore,one of the first of a small army of spies entrusted with the riskytask of sowing the seeds of discontent and enmity amongst the menfrom "across the Herring Pond".
The German authorities knew full well the beneficial effect to theirarmies once they could provoke unhealthy rivalry and bitterdissension between the American and British troops, but they forgotthe force of the trite quotation of an American admiral: "Blood isthicker than water".
Konrad von Feldoffer was firmly convinced that, with a carefullyprepared forged passport in his possession, he would be able to landwithout difficulty. He had never previously landed at Harwich, andwith the slight disguise he adopted--bleaching his hair--he stoodthe remotest chance of being recognized.
He had reckoned without Rifleman Malcolm Carr. The latter waswatching the people on the jetty when he saw von Feldoffer, precededby a couple of porters, elbowing his way through the crowd ofonlookers to board the vessel.
The late-comer was typically Dutch as far as his clothes andappearance went, but his face was that of Malcolm's acquaintance onthe Muizenburg train.
A second glance confirmed the New Zealander's suspicions. PromptlyMalcolm turned and bolted down the companion, rejoining Peter in thesteerage.
"Bother the fellow!" exclaimed Peter. "He's done me out of the saltsea breezes. All right, I'll keep below; but really I don't see theuse of doing so. It's not likely that a first-class passenger wouldinvade the quarters of the steerage passengers."
Assisted by a funny but powerful little tug, the _Koning der Zee_drew clear of the wharf, and, slipping between the piers, gained thechoppy waters of the North Sea.
Beyond territorial waters danger unseen lurked. All on boardrealized the fact--it was Germany's version of the freedom of theseas. Serving out the life-belts was in itself a significance. Yetundeterred, the captain of the _Koning der Zee_ had sailed regularlysince the memorable 4th of August, 1914, risking U-boats andfloating mines to uphold the flag of Holland on waters that werehers by equal right with other nations of the world.
Less than thirty miles from the Dutch coast the _Koning der Zee_ mether doom. Travelling at twenty-two knots, her bows struck theflexible wire bridle connecting a pair of mines. Like porpoises, thedeadly cylinders swung towards the ship under the strain on thespan. One struck the hull just below the water-line on the starboardside, nearly abaft the foremost funnel; the second bumped heavilyunder her port quarter. Practically simultaneously the deadlymechanical mines exploded. Calculated to blow a hole in the bottomof the most strongly constructed war-ship afloat, the mines simplypulverized the thin steel plating of the luckless Dutch vessel.Amidst the rush of escaping steam the _Koning der Zee_ began tosettle rapidly.
Well it was that the passenger list was a light one. Notwithstandingthe fact that three boats had been blown to fragments by theexplosions, the rest were practically intact. Promptly theundismayed crew bundled the passengers into them and loweredaway--an easy task, since the vessel was sinking on a comparativelyeven keel.
The captain and the wireless operator were the last to leave, thelatter striving in vain to get the damaged transmitter into workingorder until peremptory orders from his superior obliged him todesist.
Within eight minutes the _Koning der Zee_ had disappeared beneaththe element which in name she professed to rule, leaving five boatstossing upon the choppy seas.
"You've got plenty of sea breezes now, Peter," remarked his brotheras they sat on the stern grating of one of the life-boats. "And saltspray thrown in. I wonder what the next move is to be?"
"I don't mind very much, provided we are not picked up by a Germanship," replied Peter. "Where's your pal the spy?"
"In there," said Malcolm, indicating one of the boats lying at abouta hundred yards distance. "He was mighty sharp in nipping in."
The boats closed, their officers conferring with the captain as towhat course to pursue. Since the conversation was in Dutch the NewZealanders understood not a word, but from the gestures of theskipper they concluded that the boats were to attempt to row back tothe cost of Holland--a thirty-mile pull dead to windward, and in theteeth of a steadily-rising wind--unless picked up by another vesselin the meantime.
"It's a bit of a game," continued Malcolm, "when the spy is mined byhis own people. I wonder what he thinks about it."
As a matter of fact, von Feldoffer was thinking furiously. He hadbeen given to understand by the German Admiralty that instructionswould be issued to U-boat commanders concerned that the _Koning derZee_ was not to be molested on the day arranged for the spy to crossthe North Sea. On the strength of this assurance von Feldofferstarted for England; but, although the U-boats carried outinstructions, the floating mines, once launched, did not conform tothe mandate of the Berlin Admiralty.
"Hallo, what's up now?" enquired Peter, observing that the attentionof the Dutch sailors was directed to something on the northernhorizon.
He was not left long in doubt. Rapidly the "something" resolveditself into a long, lean, grey destroyer, from the mast of which twoflags streamed in the breeze--and those flags were not the BlackCross of Germany, but the glorious White Ensign of Britain.
"We heard the racket, so we came up to investigate," shouted thealert Lieutenant-Commander of H.M. destroyer _Angiboo_. "Comealongside as sharp as you can."
"No, thanks!" replied the Dutch skipper in English. "I'm making forThe Hook. If you'll receive some English passenger
s I will beobliged."
"Think twice about it," replied the naval officer cheerfully. "Theglass is tumbling down, and the Dutch coast is dead to windward.You'll never fetch there, unless I'm greatly mistaken."
"Very well, then, I accept," decided the skipper of the lostmail-boat.
With her quick-firers manned, in case a U-boat lurked in thevicinity, the _Angiboo_ stopped until the last of the passengers andcrew of the _Koning der Zee_ gained her deck; then, quicklyincreasing speed to twenty-five knots, the destroyer shaped asouth-westerly course to rejoin the rest of the flotilla.
Presently Malcolm made his way for'ard until he reached the foot ofthe ladder reaching to the destroyer's bridge.
"I'd like a few words with your captain," he said, addressing anable seaman.
The man eyed the erratically-clad New Zealander with tolerantamusement.
"A word with the owner, eh? Wot's wrong now, chum? Has your raggiepinched your dress-suit case?"
"Cut it out, my man," said Malcolm authoritatively. "In your lingo,'stow it'. Request your captain to see Mr. Carr, of the New ZealandRifle Brigade."
That did it. The intentionally-misleading use of the word 'mister'led the bluejacket to believe that Malcolm was a junior officer ofone of the overseas contingent. For the first time in his life theyoung New Zealander received a Royal Navy salute.
"Very good, sir," said the bluejacket. "I axes your pardon, sir; nooffence meant."
It was not long before Malcolm found himself in the presence ofLieutenant-Commander Sefton in the chart-room. Briefly he stated hiscase against the spy, Konrad von Feldoffer.
"You are absolutely certain?" asked the Lieutenant-Commander. "Therewould be a most unholy rumpus if I ran the fellow in and he turnedout to be a neutral of unimpeachable character."
"I'll stake anything on what I say, sir," replied Malcolm. "If youwill let me confront him----"
"No, no!" interrupted the skipper of the _Angiboo_. "We don't wantthe dramatic touch on board this craft. I'll send for the master ofthe _Koning der Zee_, and get him to% bring Herr von Feldoffer tome. We'll do the job as politely as possible."
Just at that moment the rest of the destroyer flotilla was sighted,bearing south-south-west. Until the _Angiboo_ resumed station herlieutenant-commander dared not leave the bridge.
"Now," he resumed, "you make your way aft, and keep out of sightuntil I call you. I'll interview friend Feldoffer on thequarter-deck. Messenger, pass the word for the master of theDutchman to see me in the ward-room."
Malcolm followed the bluejacket down the ladder. Then, with everyprecaution, he made his way aft as far as the after funnel. Fromthis position he was within hailing distance of the diminutivequarter-deck.
Presently the messenger returned to the bridge and made his report.Lieutenant-Commander Sefton descended and proceeded to the officers'quarters aft.
While the Dutch skipper was searching for the passenger, vonFeldoffer was anxiously keeping an eye on the bridge, fearful lestany of the officers were shipmates with him on the armedmerchant-cruiser. He saw Malcolm ascend the bridge, but, the latterbeing in mufti and having his back turned towards him, von Feldofferdid not recognize the New Zealander. But when Malcolm came down theladder the astute Hun made the discovery that he was in a very tightcorner.
Deliberating with himself, the spy decided to "mark time" untilevents shaped themselves. It was a pure coincidence that the NewZealander and he were on the same boat; it might be that thelatter's visit to the bridge was utterly unconnected with him. Hehoped so; but still, things looked black.
A hand tapped him on the shoulder. Von Feldoffer started violently,and, turning, found the master of the _Koning der Zee_ confrontinghim.
"I startled you, Mynheer van Gheel," remarked the Dutch skipper,addressing the spy by the name he had assumed before leavingHolland. "The English captain wishes to see you in his cabin."
"For what purpose, Mynheer?" enquired von Feldoffer uneasily.
"_'t Spijt me!_" ejaculated the Dutchman. "How can I tell, unless itbe that your signature is required to the written report upon thedestruction of my unfortunate ship? It is purely a matter of form, Ishould imagine."
Konrad von Feldoffer bowed, and, falling into step with theDutchman, walked aft.
"Look out, Malcolm!" whispered Peter, who had joined his brother bythe after funnel. "The fellow's coming this way."
Taken aback, Malcolm turned and faced the spy. The latter, betrayingno sign of recognition, walked past him; then, before his companionor any of the bluejackets on deck could prevent him, he cleared thestanchion-rails and leapt headlong into the sea.
"Man overboard!"
Promptly a couple of life-buoys were hurled over the side. A pettyofficer proposed to dive after the suicide, but was instantly toldto "Hold fast!" by one of the officers. A semaphore message was sentto the destroyer next astern to keep a look-out for the drowningman, but he was not seen again. Either his back had been broken onimpact with the water, for the destroyer was making a goodtwenty-five knots, or else he had been caught by the blades of oneof the two starboard propellers.
"Perhaps it's for the best," commented Lieutenant-Commander Seftonwhen the circumstances of the tragedy were told him. "It has savedthe nation the cost of a trial and a dozen rounds of ballammunition."