Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) (940 page)

But, of course, it is only in a wide Channel that such things can be done.  Had I met him in the mouth of the Thames there would have been a different story to tell.  As I approached Falmouth I destroyed a three-thousand-ton boat from Cork, laden with butter and cheese.  It was my only success for three days.

That night (Friday, April 16th) I called up Stephan, but received no reply.  As I was within a few miles of our rendezvous, and as he would not be cruising after dark, I was puzzled to account for his silence.  I could only imagine that his wireless was deranged.  But, alas!

I was soon to find the true reason from a copy of the
Western Morning News
, which I obtained from a Brixham trawler.  The
Kappa
, with her gallant commander and crew, were at the bottom of the English Channel.

It appeared from this account that after I had parted from him he had met and sunk no fewer than five vessels.  I gathered these to be his work, since all of them were by gun-fire, and all were on the south coast of Dorset or Devon.  How he met his fate was stated in a short telegram which was headed “Sinking of a Hostile
Submarine.”  It was marked “Falmouth,” and ran thus: —

The P. and O. mail steamer
Macedonia
came into this port last night with five shell holes between wind and water.  She reports having been attacked by a hostile submarine ten miles to the south-east of the Lizard.  Instead of using her torpedoes, the submarine for some reason approached from the surface and fired five shots from a semi-automatic twelve-pounder gun.  She was evidently under the impression that the
Macedonia
was unarmed.  As a matter of fact, being warned of the presence of submarines in the Channel, the
Macedonia
had mounted her armament as an auxiliary cruiser.  She opened fire with two quick-firers and blew away the conning-tower of the submarine.  It is probable that the shells went right through her, as she sank at once with her hatches open.  The
Macedonia
was only kept afloat by her pumps.

Such was the end of the
Kappa
, and my gallant friend, Commander Stephan.  His best epitaph was in a corner of the same paper, and was headed “Mark Lane.”  It ran: —

“Wheat (average) 66, maize 48, barley
50.”

Well, if Stephan was gone there was the more need for me to show energy.  My plans were quickly taken, but they were comprehensive.  All that day (Saturday) I passed down the Cornish coast and round Land’s End, getting
two steamers on the way.  I had learned from Stephan’s fate that it was better to torpedo the large craft, but I was aware that the auxiliary cruisers of the British Government were all over ten thousand tons, so that for all ships under that size it was safe to use my gun.  Both these craft, the
Yelland
and the
Playboy
— the latter an American ship — were perfectly harmless, so I came up within a hundred yards of them and speedily sank them, after allowing their people to get into boats.  Some other steamers lay farther out, but I was so eager to make my new arrangements that I did not go out of my course to molest them.  Just before sunset, however, so magnificent a prey came within my radius of action that I could not possibly refuse her.  No sailor could fail to recognise that glorious monarch of the sea, with her four cream funnels tipped with black, her huge black sides, her red bilges, and her high white top-hamper, roaring up Channel at twenty-three knots, and carrying her forty-five thousand tons as lightly as if she were a five-ton motor-boat.  It was the queenly
Olympic
, of the White Star — once the largest and still the comeliest of liners.  What a picture she made, with the blue Cornish sea creaming round her giant fore-foot, and the pink western sky with one evening star forming the background to her noble lines.

She was about five miles off when we dived
to cut her off.  My calculation was exact.  As we came abreast we loosed our torpedo and struck her fair.  We swirled round with the concussion of the water.  I saw her in my periscope list over on her side, and I knew that she had her death-blow.  She settled down slowly, and there was plenty of time to save her people.  The sea was dotted with her boats.  When I got about three miles off I rose to the surface, and the whole crew clustered up to see the wonderful sight.  She dived bows foremost, and there was a terrific explosion, which sent one of the funnels into the air.  I suppose we should have cheered — somehow, none of us felt like cheering.  We were all keen sailors, and it went to our hearts to see such a ship go down like a broken eggshell.  I gave a gruff order, and all were at their posts again while we headed north-west.  Once round the Land’s End I called up my two consorts, and we met next day at Hartland Point, the south end of Bideford Bay.  For the moment the Channel was clear, but the English could not know it, and I reckoned that the loss of the
Olympic
would stop all ships for a day or two at least.

Having assembled the
Delta
and
Epsilon
, one on each side of me, I received the report from Miriam and Var, the respective commanders.  Each had expended twelve torpedoes, and between them they had sunk twenty-two steamers. 
One man had been killed by the machinery on board of the
Delta
, and two had been burned by the ignition of some oil on the
Epsilon
.  I took these injured men on board, and I gave each of the boats one of my crew.  I also divided my spare oil, my provisions, and my torpedoes among them, though we had the greatest possible difficulty in those crank vessels in transferring them from one to the other.  However, by ten o’clock it was done, and the two vessels were in condition to keep the sea for another ten days.  For my part, with only two torpedoes left, I headed north up the Irish Sea.  One of my torpedoes I expended that evening upon a cattle-ship making for Milford Haven.  Late at night, being abreast of Holyhead, I called upon my four northern boats, but without reply.  Their Marconi range is very limited.  About three in the afternoon of the next day I had a feeble answer.  It was a great relief to me to find that my telegraphic instructions had reached them and that they were on their station.  Before evening we all assembled in the lee of Sanda Island, in the Mull of Kintyre.  I felt an admiral indeed when I saw my five whale-backs all in a row.  Panza’s report was excellent.  They had come round by the Pentland Firth and reached their cruising ground on the fourth day.  Already they had destroyed twenty vessels without any mishap.  I ordered the
Beta
to
divide her oil and torpedoes among the other three, so that they were in good condition to continue their cruise.  Then the
Beta
and I headed for home, reaching our base upon Sunday, April 25th.  Off Cape Wrath I picked up a paper from a small schooner.

“Wheat, 84; Maize, 60; Barley, 62.”  What were battles and bombardments compared to that!

The whole coast of Norland was closely blockaded by cordon within cordon, and every port, even the smallest, held by the British.  But why should they suspect my modest confectioner’s villa more than any other of the ten thousand houses that face the sea?  I was glad when I picked up its homely white front in my periscope.  That night I landed and found my stores intact.  Before morning the
Beta
reported itself, for we had the windows lit as a guide.

It is not for me to recount the messages which I found waiting for me at my humble headquarters.  They shall ever remain as the patents of nobility of my family.  Among others was that never-to-be-forgotten salutation from my King.  He desired me to present myself at Hauptville, but for once I took it upon myself to disobey his commands.  It took me two days — or rather two nights, for we sank ourselves during the daylight hours — to get all our stores on board, but my presence was needful every minute of
the time.  On the third morning, at four o’clock, the
Beta
and my own little flagship were at sea once more, bound for our original station off the mouth of the Thames.

I had no time to read our papers whilst I was refitting, but I gathered the news after we got under way.  The British occupied all our ports, but otherwise we had not suffered at all, since we have excellent railway communications with Europe.  Prices had altered little, and our industries continued as before.  There was talk of a British invasion, but this I knew to be absolute nonsense, for the British must have learned by this time that it would be sheer murder to send transports full of soldiers to sea in the face of submarines.  When they have a tunnel they can use their fine expeditionary force upon the Continent, but until then it might just as well not exist so far as Europe is concerned.  My own country, therefore, was in good case and had nothing to fear.  Great Britain, however, was already feeling my grip upon her throat.  As in normal times four-fifths of her food is imported, prices were rising by leaps and bounds.  The supplies in the country were beginning to show signs of depletion, while little was coming in to replace it.  The insurances at Lloyd’s had risen to a figure which made the price of the food prohibitive to the mass of the people by the time it had reached the market. 
The loaf, which, under ordinary circumstances stood at fivepence, was already at one and twopence.  Beef was three shillings and fourpence a pound, and mutton two shillings and ninepence.  Everything else was in proportion.  The Government had acted with energy and offered a big bounty for corn to be planted at once.  It could only be reaped five months hence, however, and long before then, as the papers pointed out, half the island would be dead from starvation.  Strong appeals had been made to the patriotism of the people, and they were assured that the interference with trade was temporary, and that with a little patience all would be well.  But already there was a marked rise in the death-rate, especially among children, who suffered from want of milk, the cattle being slaughtered for food.  There was serious rioting in the Lanarkshire coalfields and in the Midlands, together with a Socialistic upheaval in the East of London, which had assumed the proportions of a civil war.  Already there were responsible papers which declared that England was in an impossible position, and that an immediate peace was necessary to prevent one of the greatest tragedies in history.  It was my task now to prove to them that they were right.

It was May 2nd when I found myself back at the Maplin Sands to the north of the estuary of the Thames.  The
Beta
was sent on to the
Solent to block it and take the place of the lamented
Kappa
.  And now I was throttling Britain indeed — London, Southampton, the Bristol Channel, Liverpool, the North Channel, the Glasgow approaches, each was guarded by my boats.  Great liners were, as we learned afterwards, pouring their supplies into Galway and the West of Ireland, where provisions were cheaper than has ever been known.  Tens of thousands were embarking from Britain for Ireland in order to save themselves from starvation.  But you cannot transplant a whole dense population.  The main body of the people, by the middle of May, were actually starving.  At that date wheat was at a hundred, maize and barley at eighty.  Even the most obstinate had begun to see that the situation could not possibly continue.

In the great towns starving crowds clamoured for bread before the municipal offices, and public officials everywhere were attacked and often murdered by frantic mobs, composed largely of desperate women who had seen their infants perish before their eyes.  In the country, roots, bark, and weeds of every sort were used as food.  In London the private mansions of Ministers were guarded by strong pickets of soldiers, while a battalion of Guards was camped permanently round the Houses of Parliament.  The lives of the Prime Minister and of the Foreign Secretary
were continually threatened and occasionally attempted.  Yet the Government had entered upon the war with the full assent of every party in the State.  The true culprits were those, be they politicians or journalists, who had not the foresight to understand that unless Britain grew her own supplies, or unless by means of a tunnel she had some way of conveying them into the island, all her mighty expenditure upon her army and her fleet was a mere waste of money so long as her antagonists had a few submarines and men who could use them.  England has often been stupid, but has got off scot-free.  This time she was stupid and had to pay the price.  You can’t expect Luck to be your saviour always.

It would be a mere repetition of what I have already described if I were to recount all our proceedings during that first ten days after I resumed my station.  During my absence the ships had taken heart and had begun to come up again.  In the first day I got four.  After that I had to go farther afield, and again I picked up several in French waters.  Once I had a narrow escape through one of my kingston valves getting some grit into it and refusing to act when I was below the surface.  Our margin of buoyancy just carried us through.  By the end of that week the Channel was clear again, and both
Beta
and my own boat were down West once more.  There we had encouraging
messages from our Bristol consort, who in turn had heard from
Delta
at Liverpool.  Our task was completely done.  We could not prevent all food from passing into the British Islands, but at least we had raised what did get in to a price which put it far beyond the means of the penniless, workless multitudes.  In vain Government commandeered it all and doled it out as a general feeds the garrison of a fortress.  The task was too great — the responsibility too horrible.  Even the proud and stubborn English could not face it any longer.