Billy Barcroft, R.N.A.S Part 12

The spy sat up and pa.s.sed a hand over his forehead.

"Where are we now?" he asked, ignoring the ober-leutnant's question.

"In sight of German soil," was the reply. "Yonder can be discerned our incomparable island fortress of Heligoland. No, we do not descend there, nor at Tondern or Bork.u.m. Unfortunately that dare-devil of an Englishman has done us some damage, so we go on to the repairing sheds at Kyritz--they, fortunately, are beyond reach of hostile aircraft. At least, so I hope, but there is no telling what these English seaplanes will do next."

With von Loringhoven's rea.s.surances bringing comfort to his tortured mind the spy's mercurial spirits rose. Yet not without a shudder he recalled his last conscious moment in the horrors of the pitch-black cramped interior of the after gondola.

"Himmel!" he exclaimed. "That was a nightmare. I little thought to be alive, and now I am tempted to shout 'Hoch! Hoch!' at the top of my voice."

"The bracing upper air," commented the ober-leutnant. "It is superb for raising one's spirits. Yes, it was an anxious time. I admit it.

For the moment I thought that the cursed seaplane was going to hurl herself straight through the envelope. It is a thing that these mad Englishmen would do. I know them."

Von Eitelwurmer nodded in silent accord.

"But," continued the commander, "it was otherwise. Possibly our fire distracted the pilot, or he may have changed his mind at the last moment. Yet it was so close that I doubt whether there was anything to spare between the tip of one of his planes and the underside of the rear gondola. To me, looking aft, it seemed the narrowest shave possible. However, she missed us, and I immediately gave orders for the motors to be restarted. Heaven be praised, we never saw that seaplane again."

"And the damage?" enquired von Eitelwurmer.

"Not enough to prevent us continuing the voyage," replied von Loringhoven. "Two of the after ballonets are perforated too badly to be patched. A couple of my men succeeded in plugging the holes with the special preparation we use in such contingencies. You will observe that this floor inclines considerably in spite of the redistribution of ballast. We are down by the stern. Well, what is it?" he asked curtly as Unter-leutnant Klick entered the compartment.

"A wireless has just been received, sir," replied Klick, saluting his superior. "It appears that two of our airs.h.i.+ps have failed to return."

"_Donner wetter!_ Two out of twelve!" exclaimed von Loringhoven furiously. "This is serious. But it might have been worse," he muttered in an undertone, as he glanced at the drooping end of the large envelope.

The spy went to one of the windows. The air was still sharp but mild in comparison to the piercing cold of the night. Already the sun was well above the horizon. Two thousand feet or less beneath the airs.h.i.+p--for on approaching land the Zeppelin had descended considerably--could be discerned with remarkable clearness the green gra.s.s and red sandstone of the island of Heligoland with a strand of white sand adjoining one face of the cliffs. A short distance beyond was the flat, semi-artificial island of Sandinsel, with its batteries, concealed when viewed from the sea, standing conspicuously against the dunes.

Still further away were the flat, receding sh.o.r.es bordering the estuary of the Elbe, but vainly the spy looked for any signs of the vaunted High Seas Fleet. Even the well protected triangular expanse of water was desolate of s.h.i.+pping, save for a few small craft engaged either in laying additional mines or conveying stores to the island fortress.

At that height the varying depths of the sea could be noted owing to the changing colour of the water--not that that fact interested von Eitelwurmer in the slightest. He was a landsman out and out. He was content to leave the difficult task of wresting the trident from Britannia's grasp to others. The matter did not concern him. He specialised in the arts and intrigues of espionage.

Von Loringhoven was cast in a different mould. Although his present energies were centred upon the air service he was at heart a seaman.

He, too, was examining the expanse of sea, but with the skill of a practised navigator.

"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing to a small, indistinct object from which emanated two ever-diverging lines of ruffled water. "Do you know what that is? Here, take these binoculars and look. Now, perhaps, you see what I mean?"

The spy brought the gla.s.ses to bear.

"A fish, I suppose," he remarked.

"A fish of sorts," added the ober-leutnant. "One's sense of proportion is deceived at this height. It is an unterseeboot. I do not fancy it is ours, otherwise why should she keep submerged when close to our territorial water?"

He lifted the receiver of the telephone.

"Wireless cabin. Report to the commandant of Heligoland that there is a submarine in the south channel. Ask if it is one of our unterseebooten."

In a few minutes came the reply.

"No German submarine operating sub merged off the fortress. Can you attack?"

"No, I cannot," declared von Loringhoven bluntly, directing his remarks to his companion. "She's a British submarine. Those fellows nose their way everywhere. She, evidently, is inside the outer minefield. And they want me, crippled as this airs.h.i.+p is, to attack.

It is unreasonable; besides, the wind is increasing in strength and we have yet to make a landing."

So, giving by wireless the bearings of the daring submarine, von Loringhoven "carried on" in the knowledge that the dangers of this flight were by no means over. Already the wind was blowing with a velocity of thirty miles an hour--a rate that would make landing a difficult matter--and, what is more, its strength was hourly increasing.

At ten in the morning the Zeppelin came in sight of the sheds at Kyritz, a town in the province of Brandenburg and roughly sixty miles north-west of Berlin. This was the base for airs.h.i.+ps that had sustained damage likely to take a considerable time to repair. The German authorities, profiting by the lessons of the British air raids on Friedrichshaven and other Zeppelin stations within range of aeroplanes operating either from the sea or from the hostile frontiers, had taken the precaution to remove the repair depots well inland. In such places as Bork.u.m there were Zeppelins in commission ready for making flights to the British Isles, but at the first intimation of a raid upon the airs.h.i.+p sheds the mammoth gas-bags would fly inland until the danger was past. In the case of a Zeppelin undergoing extensive repairs such a course would be impossible; hence the establishment of the base at Kyritz.

Turning head to wind the crippled Zeppelin descended slowly and cautiously towards a field surrounding the three large sheds. The sheds themselves were marvels of scientific ingenuity. For one thing they were easily collapsible. By means of mechanical appliances the roof could be parted lengthways and each section allowed to fold against the walls. The walls could then be lowered until the whole structure lay flat on the ground. The fabric, composed of steel sheeting on girders of the same material, was covered with stucco that strongly resembled the surrounding ground. Viewed from a height there would be great difficulty in distinguis.h.i.+ng between the collapsible sheds and the adjoining land. The buildings, of course, could only be lowered when not tenanted by airs.h.i.+ps, but such was the deliberate thoroughness of the Huns that they had to provide for this contingency in the possible yet improbable event of a British aircraft raid.

Another feature of the sheds was the fact that each was built upon a gigantic turn-table, so as to enable the openings to turn away from the prevailing wind and thus facilitate landing operations; while by a system of disc signals the commander of the returning Zeppelin was informed of the direction and strength of the breeze.

Yet, in spite of these precautions, the landing operations were fraught with danger, especially in the present case.

As the crippled airs.h.i.+p approached the shed, ropes were lowered from bow and stern. These were seized by swarms of trained air-mechanics, and as gently as possible the huge envelope was brought upon an even keel. All the while the propellers kept revolving in order to enable her to counteract the force of the head wind.

Then other ropes were lowered from the 'mids.h.i.+p portion of the Zeppelin while simultaneously gas was exhausted from some of the ballonets to neutralise her buoyancy.

All that seemingly remained was to shut off the motors and drag the mammoth into its lair.

Suddenly a strong gust of wind, eddying past the shed, struck the bow of the Zeppelin. The men holding the bow ropes were thrown in a struggling heap of humanity upon the gra.s.s. In an instant the whole of the for'ard portion of the Zeppelin reared itself in the air. The aluminium longitudinal girders were not proof against the unequal strain, and with incredible rapidity the frail fabric buckled.

"Jump!" shouted von Loringhoven, his voice barely audible above the excited yells of the men and the rending of metal.

Setting the example the commander dropped from the cat-walk, followed by Unter-leutnant Klick and most of the crew. A few, imprisoned in the foremost gondola, were crushed under the ruins of the girders.

For a moment the spy hesitated to follow the example of his companions in peril. Taking his courage in his hands, he lowered himself over the latticed sides of the gangway. There he hung until half stupefied by the fumes of the escaping hydrogen; then, relaxing his hold he dropped, landing in a most undignified manner upon the equally ruffled von Loringhoven as he crawled from under the wreckage.

In five minutes nothing remained of the raider but a ma.s.s of gaunt and twisted girders from which fluttered the remains of the envelope in the grip of the now howling wind.

Two hours later, Siegfried von Eitelwurmer found himself in the presence of the Director of Aeronautical Intelligence in the official quarters of the Air Department--a pretentious building in the Wilhelmstra.s.se at Berlin.

With him were Ober-leutnant von Loringhoven and half a dozen commanders of the Zeppelin Squadron that had just carried out the raid over the British Isles. The task of reporting upon the raid was about to commence. Already the British communiqu had been received, and it was now considered advisable to issue a statement for the benefit of the German people.

The only person not present was Otto von Lohr, the commander of the air squadron, and until he put in an appearance the business could not be started.

A telephone bell rang. A uniformed secretary took up the receiver.

"Yes, Herr Schneider, he is here," he replied. "I will inform him of your request."

Replacing the instrument the secretary crossed the room and addressed the spy.

"Herr Kapitan-leutnant Schneider wishes to see you, Herr von Eitelwurmer," he announced obsequiously.

"Very good," replied the spy. "Inform me when the conference begins."

Kapitan-leutnant Schneider, the German Naval Censor-in-Chief, was a bald-headed, loose-lipped man of past middle age. He looked, and was, a typical Prussian, subserviently polite to his superiors and pointedly arrogant to those who were not. Von Eitelwurmer belonged to the former category, for although not of the military caste, he enjoyed the confidence of the Emperor. That in itself was sufficient to cause Kapitan-leutnant Schneider to squirm like an eel. It was his way of showing his pleasure at his visitor's presence.

"I wish to ask you, von Eitelwurmer," he remarked after the preliminary courtesies were exchanged, "concerning the effect of our reports--my work, you understand--upon the English people. You, living as an Englishman, ought to be in a position to inform me."

"My private opinion, or my official one?" enquired the spy bluntly.