A Rogue by Compulsion, Victor Bridges [best books to read for knowledge TXT] 📗

still some twenty yards short of it. I was just wondering what on earth they hoped to do, when, looking over my shoulder, I saw one of them scramble up the sea-wall, and begin to shout and wave his arms as if he had suddenly gone mad.

A few savage pulls brought me up level, and then turning in my seat I discovered the cause of his excitement. Some way out in the stream was a small coast-guard cutter with three men on board, two of whom were at the oars. They had evidently grasped that there was something serious the matter, for they had brought their boat round and were already heading in towards the shore.

My position began to look a trifle unhealthy. I was out of practice for sculling, and if the coast-guards chose to interfere it was obviously only a question of a few minutes before they would succeed in rowing me down. For a moment I had some idea of going ashore on the opposite bank, and again trusting to my heels. Then I saw that my friend the policeman, who could apparently swim as well as he could run, was already half way across the creek, and would be on my track long before I could get the necessary start. On the whole it seemed best to stick to the water, so digging in my sculls I pulled out into the main stream.

As I rounded the sea-wall I could hear the man who was standing on top bawling out my name to the coast-guards, and hurling them frantic injunctions to cut me off. I cast one swift glance up and down the river, and as I did so I nearly gave a shout of excitement. A couple of hundred yards away, but coming up at a tremendous pace, was a large white petrol launch, which I recognized immediately as the one that had swamped Mr. Gow.

Whether the coast-guards saw her too I really can't say. I doubt if they did, for by this time they had evidently realized who I was, and their whole attention was fixed on preventing my escape. They were rowing towards me with tremendous energy, the officer in charge half standing up in the stern and encouraging them to still fiercer efforts.

Putting every ounce I could into my stroke, I set off down stream. It was just a question as to whether I could clear them, and I doubt if any winner of the Diamond Sculls could have shoved that dinghy along much faster than I did for the next few seconds. Nearer and nearer we drew to each other, and for one instant I thought that I had done the trick. Then from the corner of my eye I saw the cutter fairly leap forward through the water, and the next moment, with a jolt that almost flung me out of the seat, she bumped alongside.

Dropping his oar, one of the men leaned over and grabbed hold of my gunwale.

"No go, Mister," he observed breathlessly. "You got to come along with us."

The words had hardly left his lips when with a wild shout the officer in charge leaped to his feet.

"Look out, there!" he yelled. "Port, you fools! Port your helm!"

I swung round, and got a momentary glimpse of a sharp white prow with a great fan of water curling away each side of it, and then, before I could move, there came a jarring, grinding crash, mixed with a fierce volley of shouts and oaths.

CHAPTER XXIII IN THE NICK OF TIME

My impressions of what happened next are a trifle involved. Something hit me violently in the side, almost knocking me silly, while at the same moment the boat seemed to disappear from beneath me, and I was flying head first into the water. I struck out instinctively as I fell, and came to the surface almost at once. I just remember a blurred vision of floating wreckage, with something white rising up in front of me. Then a rope came hurtling through the air, and caught me full in the face. I clutched at it wildly, and the next thing I knew I was being dragged violently through the water and hauled in over the side of the launch.

It was all over so quickly that for a moment I scarcely realized what had happened. I just lay where I was, gasping for breath, and spitting out a large mouthful of the Thames which I had unintentionally appropriated. Above the throbbing of the engine and the swish of the screw I could still hear a confused medley of shouts and curses.

With an effort I sat up and looked about me. We had already changed our course, and were swinging round in a half-circle, preparatory to heading back down stream. The smashed remains of the two boats were bobbing about behind us, and in the midst of them I could make out the figures of the coast-guards, clinging affectionately to various bits of wreckage.

Besides myself, there were three other men in the launch. Dr. McMurtrie was sitting on the seat just opposite, pouring out the contents of a flask into a small metal cup. Against the cabin door leaned Savaroff, eyeing me with his usual expression of hostile mistrust. The third passenger was the man with the auburn beard, whom I had seen in the launch on the day I picked up Mr. Gow. He was busy with the tiller, and for the moment was paying scant attention to any of us.

McMurtrie got up with the cup in his hand and came across to where I was sitting.

"Drink this," he said.

"This," proved to be some excellent old brandy, which I tossed off with no little gratitude. It was exactly what I wanted to pull me together.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

I felt myself carefully before replying. "I'm all right now," I said.
"I got rather a crack in the ribs, but I don't think anything's gone."

"We seem to have arrived just in time to prevent your arrest," he said quietly. "Perhaps you will be good enough to explain what has happened? At present we are rather in the dark."

He spoke with his usual suavity, but there was a veiled menace in his voice which it was impossible to overlook. Savaroff scowled at me more truculently than ever. It was obvious that both of them were entirely ignorant of Sonia's part in the affair, and suspected me of some extraordinary bit of clumsiness. I prepared myself for some heavy lying.

"I know precious little more about it than you do," I said coolly. "I was getting things ready for you this morning, when I happened to look out of the window, and saw three men crawling towards the hut on their hands and knees. As one of them was wearing a policeman's uniform, I thought I had better cut and run. Well, I cut and ran. I made for the creek because I thought you might be there. You weren't; but there was a dinghy on the shore, which I suppose belonged to a small yacht that was anchored out in the channel. Anyhow, I took the liberty of borrowing it. I meant to row out into the river, and try to pick you up before they could get hold of a boat and follow me. If it hadn't been for these infernal coast-guards, I'd have managed it all right. I don't think they really had anything to do with the business, but they just happened to be passing, and of course when the police shouted to them they cut in at once." I paused. "And that's the whole story," I finished, "as far as I know anything about it."

They had all three listened to me with eager attention. Even the man with the auburn beard had kept on looking away from his steering to favour me with quick glances out of his hard blue eyes. I think I came through the combined scrutiny with some credit.

McMurtrie was the first to break the ensuing silence.

"Have you any idea how you have betrayed yourself? You can speak quite freely. Our friend Mr. von Brünig knows the position."

I thought it best to take the offensive. "I haven't betrayed myself," I said angrily. "Somebody must have done it for me. I've not left the hut since I came down except for an occasional breath of air."

"But earlier—when you were in London?" he persisted.

I shook my head. "I have been down here a week. You don't imagine the police would have waited as long as that."

I knew I was putting them in a difficulty, for by this time they must be all aware that Latimer was still on their track, and it was obviously conceivable that my attempted arrest might be due in some way to my connection with them; anyhow I saw that even Savaroff was beginning to regard me a shade less suspiciously.

"Have you brought any of the powder with you?" asked McMurtrie.

It struck me instantly that if I said yes, I should be putting myself absolutely in their power.

"I hadn't time to get any," I answered regretfully. "I had buried it outside the hut, and they came on me so suddenly there was no chance of digging it up. Now I have once done it, however, I can make some more very quickly."

It was the flattest lie I have ever told; but I managed to get it off with surprising ease. It is astonishing what rapid strides one can make in the art of perjury with a very little practice.

Savaroff gave a grunt of disappointment, and McMurtrie turned to von Brünig, who was frowning thoughtfully, and made some almost inaudible remark in German. The latter answered at some length, but he kept his voice so low that, with my rather sketchy knowledge of that unpleasant language, it was impossible for me to overhear what he was saying. Besides, he evidently didn't intend me to, and I had no wish to spoil the good impression I had apparently made by any appearance of eavesdropping.

It seemed to me that my course lay pretty straight in front of me. Latimer had all the information now he was likely to get, and I knew from Joyce's wire that he intended to act immediately. In addition to this, the running down of the cutter would be known to Scotland Yard as soon as ever the men who had been sent to arrest me could get to a telephone, and the river-police and coast-guards everywhere would be warned to keep a sharp look-out for von Brünig's launch. In an hour or two at the most something was bound to happen, and the way in which I could make myself most useful seemed to be in delaying the break-up and escape of the party as long as possible. If I had to be arrested, I was determined that the others should be roped in as well.

I had just arrived at this point in my meditations when McMurtrie and von Brünig came to an end of their muttered conversation.

The former turned back to me. "You probably understand, Mr. Lyndon, that this unfortunate affair with the police alters our plans entirely. At present I am quite unable to see how they have found you out, unless you have betrayed yourself by some piece of unintentional carelessness. Anyhow, the fact remains that they know where you are, and that very probably they will be able to trace this launch."

Savaroff nodded. "As likely as not we shall have a shot across our bows when we get to Sheerness," he growled.

McMurtrie, as usual, took no notice of his interruption. "There is only one thing to do," he said. "Mr. von Brünig, who, as I have already told you, is interested in our syndicate, has offered to put his country house in Germany at our service. We must cross over to Holland before the police have time to interfere."

"Do you mean now, at once?" I asked, with a sudden inward feeling of dismay.

McMurtrie nodded. "We have to pick up a couple of friends at Sheppey first. After that we can run straight across to The Hague."

The proposal was so obviously sensible that, without arousing his suspicion, I could see no way for the moment of raising any objection. The great thing was to keep the "syndicate" together, and to delay our departure until Latimer had had time to scoop the lot of us. Could anything provide him with a more favourable opportunity than the collection of the whole crowd in that remote bungalow at Sheppey?