The Riddle of the Sands
one cannot leave a yacht alone in a fog,” I said, with professional
solidity.
Von Brüning pricked up his ears at this. “I’ll be hanged if that was
_your_ maxim,” he laughed; “you’re too fond of the shore!”
I sent him a glance of protest, as though to say: “What’s the use of
your warning if you won’t let me act on it?”
For, of course, my excuses were meant chiefly for his consumption, and
Fräulein Dollmann’s. That the lady I addressed them to found them
unpalatable was not my fault.
“Then you sat in your wretched little cabin all day?” she persisted.
“All day,” I said, brazenly; “it was the safest thing to do.” And I
looked again at Fräulein Dollmann, frankly and squarely. Our eyes met,
and she dropped hers instantly, but not before I had learnt something;
for if ever I saw misery under a mask it was on her face. No; she had
not told.
I think I puzzled the stepmother, who shrugged her white shoulders, and
said in that case she wondered we had dared to leave our precious boat
and come to supper. If we knew Frisian fogs as well as she did——
Oh, I explained, we were not so nervous as that; and as for supper on
shore, if she only knew what a Spartan life we led——
“Oh, for mercy’s sake, don’t tell me about it!” she cried, with a
grimace; “I hate the mention of yachts. When I think of that dreadful
_Medusa_ coming from Hamburg——” I sympathised with half my attention,
keeping one strained ear open for developments on my right. Davies, I
knew, was in the thick of it, and none too happy under Böhme’s eye, but
working manfully. “My fault”—“sudden squall”—“quite safe”, were some of
the phrases I caught; while I was aware, to my alarm, that he was
actually drawing a diagram of something with bread-crumbs and
table-knives. The subject seemed to gutter out to an awkward end, and
suddenly Böhme, who was my right-hand neighbour, turned to me. “You are
starting for England to-morrow morning?” he said.
“Yes,” I answered; “there is a steamer at 8.15, I believe.”
“That is good. We shall be companions.”
“Are you going to England, too, sir?” I asked, with hot misgivings.
“No, no! I am going to Bremen; but we shall travel together as far
as—you go by Amsterdam, I suppose?—as far as Leer, then. That will be
very pleasant.” I fancied there was a ghoulish gusto in his tone.
“Very,” I assented. “You are making a short stay here, then?”
“As long as usual. I visit the work at Memmert once a month or so,
spend a night with my friend Dollmann and his charming family” (he
leered round him), “and return.”
Whether I was right or wrong in my next step I shall never know, but
obeying a strong instinct, “Memmert,” I said; “do tell me more about
Memmert. We heard a good deal about it from Commander von Brüning;
but——”
“He was discreet, I expect,” said Böhme.
“He left off at the most interesting part.”
“What’s that about me?” joined in von Brüning.
“I was saying that we’re dying to know more about Memmert, aren’t we,
Davies?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Davies, evidently aghast at my temerity; but I
did not mind that. If he roughed my suit, so much the better; I
intended to rough his.
“You gave us plenty of history, Commander, but you did not bring it up
to date.” The triple alliance laughed, Dollmann boisterously.
“Well,” said von Brüning; “I gave you very good reasons, and you
acquiesced.”
“And now he is trying to pump _me_,” said Böhme, with his rasping
chuckle.
“Wait a bit, sir; I have an excuse. The Commander was not only
mysterious but inaccurate. I appeal to you, Herr Dollmann, for it was
_à propos_ of you. When we fell in with him at Bensersiel, Davies asked
him if you were at home, and he said ‘No.’ When would you be back?
Probably soon; _but he did not know when_.”
“Oh, he said that?” said Dollmann.
“Well, only three days later we arrive at Norderney, and find you have
returned that very day, but have gone to Memmert. Again (by the way)
the mysterious Memmert! But more than ever mysterious now, for in the
evening, not only you and Herr Böhme——”
“What penetration!” laughed von Brüning.
“But also Commander von Brüning, pay us a visit in _his_ launch, all
coming from Memmert!”
“And you infer?” said von Brüning.
“Why, that you must have known at Bensersiel—only three days
ago—exactly when Herr Dollmann was coming back, having an appointment
at Memmert with him for to-day.”
“Which I wished to conceal from you?”
“Yes, and that’s why I’m so inquisitive; it’s entirely your own fault.”
“So it seems,” said he, with mock humility; “but fill your glass and go
on, young man. Why should I want to deceive you?”
“That’s just what I want to know. Come, confess now; wasn’t there
something important afoot to-day at Memmert? Something to do with the
gold? You were inspecting it, sorting it, weighing it? Or _I_ know! You
were transporting it secretly to the mainland?”
“Not a very good day for that! But softly, Herr Carruthers; no fishing
for admissions. Who said we had found any gold?”
“Well, have you? There!”
“That’s better! Nothing like candour, my young investigator. But I am
afraid, having no authority, I cannot assist you at all. Better try
Herr Böhme again. I’m only a casual onlooker.”
“With shares.”
“Ah! you remember that? (He remembers everything!) With a few shares,
then; but with no expert knowledge. Now, Böhme is the consulting
engineer. Rescue me, Böhme.”
“I cannot disclaim expert knowledge,” said Böhme, with humorous
gravity; “but I disclaim responsibility. Now, Herr Dollmann is chairman
of the company.”
“And I,” said Dollmann, with a noisy laugh, “must fall back on the
shareholders, whose interests I have to guard. One can’t be too careful
in these confidential matters.”
“Here’s one who gives his consent,” I said. “Can’t he represent the
rest?”
“Extorted by torture,” said von Brüning. “I retract.”
“Don’t mind them, Herr Carruthers,” cried Frau Dollmann, “they are
making fun of you; but I will give you a hint; no woman can keep a
secret——”
“Ah!” I cried, triumphantly, “you have been there?”
“I? Not I; I detest the sea! But Clara has.” Everyone looked at Clara,
who in her turn looked in naïve bewilderment from me to her father.
“Indeed?” I said, more soberly, “but perhaps she is not a free agent.”
“Perfectly free!” said Dollmann.
“I have only been there once, some time ago,” said she, “and I saw no
gold at all.”
“Guarded,” I observed. “I beg your pardon; I mean that perhaps you only
saw what you were allowed to see. And, in any case, the Fräulein has no
expert knowledge and no responsibility, and, perhaps, no shares. Her
province is to be charming, not to hold financial secrets.”
“I have done my best to help you,” said the stepmother.
“They’re all against us, Davies.”
“Oh, chuck it, Carruthers!” said Davies, in English.
“He’s insatiable,” said von Brüning, and there was a pause; clearly,
they meant to elicit more.
“Well, I shall draw my own conclusions,” I said.
“This is interesting,” said von Brüning, “in what sense?”
“It begins to dawn on me that you made fools of us at Bensersiel. Don’t
you remember, Davies, what an interest he took in all our doings? I
wonder if he feared our exploring propensities might possibly lead us
to Memmert?”
“Upon my word, this is the blackest ingratitude. I thought I made
myself particularly agreeable to you.”
“Yes, indeed; especially about the duck-shooting! How useful your local
man would have been—both to us and to you!”
“Go on,” said the Commander, imperturbably.
“Wait a moment; I’m thinking it out.” And thinking it out I was in
deadly earnest, for all my levity, as I pressed my hand on my burning
forehead and asked myself where I was to stop in this seductive but
perilous fraud. To carry it too far was to court complete exposure; to
stop too soon was equally compromising.
“What is he talking about, and why go on with this ridiculous mystery?”
said Frau Dollmann.
“I was thinking about this supper party, and the way it came about,” I
pursued, slowly.
“Nothing to complain of, I hope?” said Dollmann.
“Of course not! Impromptu parties are always the pleasantest, and this
one was delightfully impromptu. Now I bet you I know its origin! Didn’t
you discuss us at Memmert? And didn’t one of you suggest——?
“One would almost think you had been there,” said Dollmann.
“You may thank your vile climate that we weren’t,” I retorted,
laughing. “But, as I was saying, didn’t one of you suggest—which of
you? Well, I’m sure it wasn’t the Commander——”
“Why not?” said Böhme.
“It’s difficult to explain—an intuition, say—I am sure he stood up for
us; and I don’t think it was Herr Dollmann, because he knows Davies
already, and he’s always on the spot; and, in short I’ll swear it was
Herr Böhme, who is leaving early to-morrow, and had never seen either
of us. It was you, sir, who proposed that we should be asked to supper
to-night—for inspection?”
“Inspection?” said Böhme; “what an extraordinary idea!”
“You can’t deny it, though! And one thing more; in the harbour just
now—no—this is going too far; I shall mortally offend you.” I gave way
to hearty laughter.
“Come, let’s have it. Your hallucinations are diverting.”
“If you insist; but this is rather a delicate matter. You know we were
a little surprised to find you _all_ on board; and you, Herr Böhme, did
you always take such a deep interest in small yachts? I am afraid that
it was at a certain sacrifice of comfort that you _inspected_ ours!”
And I glanced at the token he bore of his encounter with our lintel.
There was a burst of pent-up merriment, in which Dollmann took the
loudest share.
“I warned you, Böhme,” he said.
The engineer took the joke in the best possible part.
“We owe you apologies,” he conceded.
“Don’t mention it,” said Davies.
“_He_ doesn’t mind,” I said; “I’m the injured one. I’m sure you never
suspected Davies, who could?” (Who indeed? I was on firm ground there.)
“The point is, what did you take _me_ for?”
“Perhaps we take you for it still,” said von Brüning.
“Oho! Still suspicious? Don’t drive me to extremities.”
“What extremities?”
“When I get back to London I shall go to Lloyd’s! I haven’t forgotten
that flaw in the title.” There was an impressive silence.
“Gentlemen,” said Dollmann, with exaggerated solemnity, “we must come
to terms with this formidable young man. What do you say?”
“Take me to Memmert,” I exclaimed. “Those are my terms!”
“Take you to Memmert? But I thought you were starting for England
to-morrow?”
“I ought to; but I’ll stay for that.”
“You said it was urgent. Your conscience is very elastic.”
“That’s my affair. Will you take me to Memmert?”
“What do you say, gentlemen?” Böhme nodded. “I think we owe some
reparation. Under promise of absolute secrecy, then?”
“Of course, now that you trust me. But you’ll show me everything—honour
bright—wreck, depôt, and all?”
“Everything; if you don’t object to a diver’s dress.”
“Victory!” I cried, in triumph. “We’ve won our point, Davies. And now,
gentlemen, I don’t mind saying that as far as I am concerned the joke’s
at an end; and, in spite of your kind offer, I must start for England
to-morrow under the good Herr Böhme’s wing. And in case my elastic
conscience troubles you (for I see you think me a weather-cock) here
are the letters received this morning, establishing my identity as a
humble but respectable clerk in the British Civil Service, summoned
away from his holiday by a tyrannical superior.” (I pulled out my
letters and tossed them to Dollmann.) “Ah, you don’t read English
easily, perhaps? I dare say Herr Böhme does.”
Leaving Böhme to study dates, postmarks, and contents to his heart’s
content, and unobserved, I turned to sympathise with my fair neighbour,