Shelled by an Unseen Foe Part 4

The heart of Zaidos rebelled. He could have stood the rage and fear and excitement of battle, but this unspeakable act in which he had taken part seemed too much. As night approached he began to fear the quiet hours of the dark. When he closed his eyes he could see that white, blank face before him.

It was with a deep feeling of relief and grat.i.tude then that he obeyed the order to march to the wharves. There were forty men included in the command, and they went off gaily, glad of anything as a change from the barracks.

Three transports waited at the wharves. Zaidos obeyed an order to go aboard the largest, a n.o.ble s.h.i.+p ready to put out. It was crowded with men. Zaidos, with two others, boarded her. They were led down and down into the depths of the s.h.i.+p, and with despair Zaidos discovered that he was to be one of the a.s.sistant stokers.

The engine-rooms were stifling, notwithstanding the big electric fans that supplied a change of air as it entered through the great air intakes. The furnaces roared. A couple of engineers nodded to him and one of them led him to a bunk where he exchanged his uniform for the thin, scant garments suited to his new work. At once he returned to his new duty. He found the s.h.i.+fts were short, but the work was so heavy and the heat so intense that at the end of his first duty he went to his stuffy bunk and threw himself down, more exhausted than he had ever been in his life. He lost track of time down there in the firelighted gloom, and the clock seemed to bring no understanding to him.

At last night came, and he was sent to his bunk again to remain until summoned. The engineer, who was like an officer in charge, was not a hard man. He understood the necessity of breaking his boys in gradually. Zaidos, too tired to sleep, lay in his bunk watching the men about him and listening to their idle or boastful talk. His native tongue had come back to his remembrance, and it was easy to understand most of them.

Presently he heard groans from the next berth, and a tall soldier came over and looked in.

"What is the matter with you?" he said to the complaining youth lying there.

"I'm sick, I'm going to die!" said a whining voice. "I have been down in the engine-room until I am nearly cooked. I think my back is broken too."

The listening man laughed.

"Not a bit of it, my boy!" he said. "You are tired out. That is what ails you. You have soft muscles evidently. You will be all right soon."

"I tell you I am about dead!" insisted the voice.

Zaidos listened, puzzled. There was a familiar sound in the tones, but for the life of him he could not place the speaker.

"I tell you I am in a bad way!" insisted the unseen speaker. "I shall appeal this matter to the King as soon as we land."

"That's a good idea," said a soldier, nodding. "When I came away I left my tobacco pouch in barracks. I will appeal too. It is not to be endured!"

"You don't understand," said the fellow. "I am Velo Kupenol, the head of the house of Zaidos. I am a Count!"

The tall soldier nodded with a twinkle in his eye. Zaidos fell back in his bunk with a gasp of surprise, and listened.

"Is that so?" said the soldier. "I heard of the death of Count Zaidos the other day. So you are his heir, eh? I thought he had a son.

Where does he appear in this story of yours?"

"He is dead," said Velo. (It was he.) "He went to America, and has not been heard from. So I am the heir. I shall appeal to the King, I tell you!"

"All right; all right!" agreed the soldier, while the others, listening near, laughed. "At least it is a pretty story, Count. Stick to it.

We like to hear you talk."

"Well, it is so, and I can prove it!"

"How?" said Zaidos, suddenly leaning over the edge of his bunk.

For a full minute Velo stared at him with bulging eyes.

"How will you prove it?" said Zaidos with a steady stare. He leaped to his feet and, shoving the tall soldier out of his way, went to the berth and thrust his furious face close to his cousin's.

"You won't prove anything!" he said in a low, tense tone. "You have made a fool of yourself and of me. I won't have my father's name dragged into this mess. I'm here as Zaidos, the stoker; and you will forget Zaidos of Saloniki as fast as ever you can. And if I find you telling anything more, I will thrash you, Velo Kupenol, within an inch of your life. I can do it, too. I learned that in America, at least.

And for the present we are in the same fix. We are here as common soldiers. My papers were stolen from me in barracks the night my father died, Velo, so there won't be any proving at all. We are just a pair of stokers on a transport. But don't think for a _minute_ that I mean to stay where I am. A Zaidos cannot be kept in the hold. I shall do something for the honor of my name, you may be a.s.sured of that. But remember _I am Zaidos, the stoker_. As I said, if I find that silly tongue of yours wagging, I will make--you--good--and--sorry."

He paused, and with keen eyes searched Velo's face to make sure he comprehended it all.

Velo was silent, and Zaidos returned to his cot, once more conscious of his fatigue and lameness.

But Velo, turning to the wall, pressed his face to the hard mattress, and let the deadly hate he bore his cousin fill his very being. He pressed his hand on the stolen papers hidden in his kit. Zaidos must die. Zaidos must die! All his evil blood boiled in him. For hours, when he should have been sleeping off his fatigue, as Zaidos was doing, he lay hating and plotting. A dozen evil schemes formed in his mind, but Velo was a coward. _He_ did not mean to be caught in anything that looked shady. When he was finally rid of his cousin, he did not want to be unable to appeal to the King and later enjoy the boundless wealth and vast estates and unblemished honor of the Zaidos name.

Before dawn both boys were called to go into the engine-rooms with their s.h.i.+ft. Zaidos, although lame and aching, was still refreshed by his slumber and ready for work. But Velo could scarcely drag himself along. He worked as little as possible, the engineer grumbling at his poor performance. He kept close to Zaidos, d.o.g.g.i.ng him about like a treacherous and snapping cur.

His chance came finally. Zaidos, with a great shovel of coal, was approaching the terrible open door of the blazing furnace. Velo, with his empty shovel, had just left it. As his cousin pa.s.sed him he gave a sly twist to the dragging shovel, which threw the corner of it between Zaidos' feet. He stumbled and fell headlong toward the open door where a horrible death seemed reaching for him.

But as he plunged forward, the chief, who was beside him, turned and shoved his rake against the falling body. It was enough to change the direction of his fall. He crashed to the ground safe. He was on his feet instantly, turning to his cousin with a look where certainty and inquiry were mingled. But as he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden jar under them was followed by a terrific crash, and in a moment a fearful list of the great vessel disclosed the worst.

The transport had been struck by a submarine and was sinking. Water rushed into the engine-room and rose toward the immense bed of living coals in the furnaces. There was a savage hiss of steam. The s.h.i.+p listed rapidly to port. A rapid ringing of bells cut the air. The chief listened. It was the danger signal, never sounded when any hope of saving the s.h.i.+p remained.

"Up to the deck for your lives!" he roared, and throwing down the shovels and rakes, the men and the two boys sped for the entrances.

They struggled up with a mob of terrified men who pushed and fought.

More and more the big boat leaned to the sea. When Zaidos finally gained the deck, one rail nearly touched the water. He thought she would go under immediately, but thanks to some uninjured air chamber below, she hung balanced. On the bridge the Captain shouted through a megaphone.

"Jump before she goes!" he cried. "Swim away from the wreck!"

Zaidos, forgetting all but the present danger, seized his cousin by the arm and rushed him to the side of the s.h.i.+p.

"Jump!" he cried.

"No!" screamed Velo. "No, no! I am going to stay here!"

"Don't you hear the Captain?" cried Zaidos. "Jump! Jump!"

Velo pulled back and Zaidos urged him toward the heaving water.

"It's our one chance, Velo!" he cried. "We will go down with the s.h.i.+p if we stay."

He suddenly gave Velo a push and flung him into the water. Together they swam rapidly from the rail. As though to give the soldiers the one slim chance for their lives, the s.h.i.+p, leaning on its side, still balanced at the lip of the sea. Then with a sickening roar the vessel went down. Zaidos looked over his shoulder. On the bridge, white haired, erect, undismayed, stood the Captain. As the waters engulfed him he even smiled. A fearful force dragged at the boys and swept them toward the great whirlpool made by the s.h.i.+p. They swam desperately, and just as strength seemed to fail, the pressure was released and they floated in a sea covered with wreckage and with swimming or drowning men.

The boys were swimming close together when Velo gave a cry and clasped Zaidos around the neck in a choking grip. At once they both went under, and Zaidos fought his way out of the strangling clasp; but Velo seized him by the arm. They came up, and Zaidos turned on his cousin.

"Don't, don't let me go!" Velo begged with staring eyes. "I'm getting a cramp!"

"Then let go of me!" cried Zaidos. "I'll save you if I can, but don't grab me!"

Velo, overcome with terror, tried to obey, but his reason was not as strong as his terror. Once more he tried to grasp Zaidos.

The boy turned, grabbed him by the throat, and forced him under water.

He struggled furiously for a s.p.a.ce, then suddenly went limp. Zaidos drew him to the surface. He was unconscious. He supported the unresisting weight on his shoulder, and as he kept afloat, he despairingly scanned the horizon.

Bearing down upon them at full speed he saw an English Red Cross s.h.i.+p!