The Fight for Constantinople: A Story of the Gallipoli Peninsula

Out flashed the other German's sword. Rashly he raised the blade to deliver a cut. Had he used the point the result might have been different, for before the blow could fall the stalwart British officer gripped him round the waist, then with a sudden heave threw him headlong upon the floor. The back of his head came in contact with the stone paving, and with a groan he lost consciousness.

"Buck up, Farnworth!" exclaimed Dick. "Pull that fellow's coat off and see how it fits you. We'll borrow these gentlemen's uniforms and see what happens."

CHAPTER X

A Bid for Freedom

"By Jove, Farnworth, I little thought that I should have to undergo the humiliation of wearing this shameful uniform!" exclaimed Dick, as, attired in the tunic, greatcoat, trousers, and long boots of the German Major, he disdainfully shook himself. Circumstances compelled him to buckle on the sword, but the binoculars he, somewhat rashly, discarded as an encumbrance. "Nearly ready? Farnworth, I'm not paying you a compliment when I say you look a proper swaggering Prussian officer of the von Forstner type with that insipid little moustache of yours. It's my beard that worries me. Hello! Good business! Here's a pair of pocket scissors in this rascal's tunic. You might clip off my ragged whiskers as close as you possibly can—leave the moustache. Hurry for all you're worth, for time's precious!"

The midshipman set to work with a will to remove the six weeks' growth of beard from his superior officer's face, for during the period of incarceration they had been unable to shave.

Farnworth stood back a pace and surveyed his handiwork in the upslanting rays of the lamp set upon the floor.

"Oh, my maiden aunt, sir!" ejaculated Farnworth. "You look absolutely 'It'—von Kluck and von Hindenburg rolled into one."

The Sub smiled at the way in which the midshipman had "got his own back".

"Let's hope so for the next few hours," he remarked. "Now, to prevent mistakes, we'll gag and lash up these two minions of the Kaiser. Take their handkerchiefs and tear them in halves. That's right; now set our old friend Ahmed up, while I prop the fat subaltern against him. When our resources are limited we must needs go to work methodically and sparingly."

The two unconscious men were propped up back to back. The right arm of the Major was lashed to the left arm of the subaltern just above the elbows, and the former's left to the right arm of the junior officer. The halves of the second handkerchief were used to gag the senseless men.

"How about their legs, sir?" asked Farnworth.

"We'll pass a strip round them. That old belt which for the last six weeks has been an inferior substitute for my braces will do. That's done it."

The two Germans were now lying full length on the ground back to back. To all appearances they were securely trussed up, but even then the midshipman was not satisfied.

"I've my old belt," he announced. "Couldn't we trice their feet up and make them to that window-bar? It would puzzle the world's champion contortionist to wriggle free then, I fancy."

"Very good," assented Dick. "We'll heave together. My word, they are a weight!"

The sill of the long, narrow window was within eighteen inches of the ground, while the whole length of the aperture was furnished with three vertical iron bars, additionally secured at mid-length by a short cross-bar.

Passing the second belt between the turns round the ankles of the two Germans, Farnworth tied the other end to the lowermost part of the middle bar by means of a clove-hitch. It was thus impossible for the bound and gagged men to regain their feet without assistance.

"Now we'll chance our luck," said Dick. "When we cross the courtyard I'll jabber to you in German, and you'll reply 'Ja, ja!' to everything I say. Ten to one the Turks won't twig my rotten rendering of this tongue-twisting jargon, but that won't matter. If we spoke English they might smell a rat, for a good many Turks have a smattering of it. By the by, I'll take charge of that document which our old friend asked us to sign. I'm curious to know what it all means."

Unlocking the door, Dick and the midshipman unhesitatingly stepped out into the corridor. The passage was deserted. Relocking the door and thrusting the key into the pocket of his greatcoat, the Sub, accompanied by his companion, walked noisily along the corridor, allowing his sword to clank loudly upon the stones. This style of "sabre-rattling" he knew from observation to be one of the chief characteristics of the German officer in the Ottoman service.

After traversing about twenty yards the two officers came to a broader passage running at right angles to the former. The turning to the right, Dick knew, led to the courtyard. It was dimly lighted. Nearly a score of Turkish soldiers were squatting Oriental fashion on the stones, some smoking, most of them engaged in mending clothes, and all were talking rapidly.

Through the crush Crosthwaite and Farnworth made their way, the Turks backing against the wall in obvious fear of their supposed taskmasters. At the entrance stood a soldier on guard. Upon hearing the officers approach, he drew himself up and saluted. Not for one moment did he show any signs of suspicion, a circumstance that gave Dick additional confidence. His one dread was that they might meet with some of the German officers, and be held up by some trivial question in an attempt at conversation.

Fortunately the square was practically deserted. Half a dozen artillerymen bent double under loads of blankets and accoutrements were proceeding in single file from one store to another, while on the flat roof of one side of the barrack buildings stood a sentry in charge of the pair of anti-aircraft guns, Away to the right a search-light was slowly playing upon the waters of the Dardanelles, while the sky was illuminated by the reflected glare of dozens of other search-lights upon the sides of The Narrows.

Dick led the way to a large stone arch, which, he knew, communicated with the open country, for through it the battery of field-artillery had departed and returned. The wall on either side was protected by a thick wall of sand-bags, evidently placed there as the result of bitter experience, when the British and French 12-inch shells came falling obliquely from the sky.

The archway was nearly twenty paces in length. About midway, and on opposite sides, were small doors. They were open, and disclosed long galleries lighted by lanterns of a similar type to those used in magazines on board ship in pre-electricity days. Along the side passage ran a pair of narrow-gauge rails, while just within one of the doors stood a couple of trucks, each carrying a large locomotive torpedo fitted with a war-head.

Dick came to an abrupt halt. Even in the midst of his bid for freedom his professional instinct would not let the opportunity pass. These sinister weapons, he knew, could not be for use on board a ship, since there was no accommodation for vessels alongside the water-front of Fort Medjidieh. Besides, warships taking torpedoes on board would most certainly do so in places remote from the range of British guns—most probably at Constantinople or Skutari.

They were powerful weapons, longer and of greater diameter than the British Whiteheads, while from the German characters engraved on parts of the mechanism the Sub concluded that they must be the formidable Schwartz-Kopff torpedoes. Moreover, they were intended to be fired from shore stations. Carefully screened from observation, torpedo-tubes had been placed in position, so that a direct hit at any hostile warship attempting to force The Narrows was almost a certainty.

The Sub would dearly have liked to follow the narrow-gauge line of rails, but the risk was too great. No doubt he would be able to discover the exact locality of the firing-station, but realizing it would serve no useful purpose if he did so and was caught in the act, he resumed his way through the main archway.

The doors were closed and barred by massive beams, but a wicket attracted his attention. Somewhat dubious as to what would be awaiting him on the other side, Dick cautiously shot the bolt and pushed open the means of exit.

It was not perhaps in keeping with his role as a Prussian officer to open a door cautiously, but well it was that he did so. Ten feet from the door was a grey-painted sentry-box, in which stood a ferocious-looking Bashi Bazouk, his shawl simply bristling with weapons. Fortunately his face was turned away from the wicket-gate, and the noise it made was not sufficient to attract his attention.

But it was not the Turkish irregular that caused Dick's heart to give a violent thump in spite of his usually cast-iron nerves. A little farther away a regiment of infantry was drawn up in quarter-column, while in front, and almost at the angle nearest the British officers, were seven or eight Germans, both of the line and of the artillery, all engaged in studying by the aid of a lantern a map which had been spread upon the ground.

"Where's von Eitelheimer?" demanded one in the uniform of a colonel. "He ought to be here."

"He and Lieutenant Schwalbe went to see the two cursed Englishmen, Herr Colonel," replied a German sergeant-major. "The Major said it was most important to get the prisoners' signatures before the regiment marches."

"Quite right," assented the Colonel. "Nevertheless he ought to be here before this. Hurry, Schneider, and tell Major von Eitelheimer that——"

Dick waited to hear no more. Softly closing the door, he gripped Farnworth by the arm and hurried him back under the archway until they reached the transverse passage.

"We've precious little time," he explained hurriedly, at the same time lowering his voice to a whisper. "They're sending a fellow to look for our pal Ahmed and the fat subaltern. We'll risk it and try this way."

The subsidiary passage ran parallel to the eastern face of the fortress. At intervals there were large recesses converted into armoured casemates, each containing a 9-inch Krupp gun of a pattern of the early 'nineties. Since the ordnance on this side was intended solely for defence against a land attack, the guns were not so formidable as those enfilading the Dardanelles, yet the Sub realized that Fort Medjidieh would be a hard nut to crack if invested by an expeditionary force unprovided with the heaviest siege artillery.

At each casemate a line branched off from the main narrow-gauge track, showing that the tramway was originally intended to supply the heavy guns with ammunition. Making use of the rails for transporting torpedoes was the result of recent considerations.

Save for a few Turkish artillerymen who were lolling about, and who promptly made themselves scarce when they saw the German uniforms approaching, the gallery was deserted. Without actually meeting anyone, Dick and his companion reached the bend of the passage immediately under the south-eastern angle of the fortress.

Overhead the sounds of bustle and activity could be faintly heard through the massive steel armour-plate, additionally protected by a thick bank of earth faced with sand-bags. The purr of electric dynamos betokened the fact that the seaward search-lights were in full operation. Here the tramway dipped abruptly, egress being prevented by a heavy steel sliding-door.

"Rotten luck!" exclaimed Dick in a whisper. "Let's try that port-hole and see how the land lies."

The two officers made their way between the sliding carriage of the huge Krupp gun and the armoured wall of the casemate. There was just room enough between the chase of the weapon and the side of the embrasure for the Sub to wriggle. The walls here were not less than fifteen feet in thickness, and since the gun was "run in" there was enough space between the muzzle and the sill of the embrasure for both officers to observe the scene that lay before them.

Away on their right front was exposed a broad sweep of the Dardanelles, the swiftly-flowing water gleaming like burnished silver in the complex rays of the search-light. Almost immediately opposite were the outlines of Fort Kilid Bahr, backed by rugged hills towering to a height of nearly seven hundred feet.

Southward Fort Chanak reared its grim pile, from which search-lights innumerable swept sea, land, and sky, while fifteen or twenty miles to the southwest the sky was agleam with the flashes of heavy guns, showing that Sedd-ul-Bahr and Kum Kale were exchanging a vigorous cannonade with the ships of the Allied fleets.

Here it was that Dick made an important discovery. Fort Medjidieh was apparently not to be held in the event of a bombardment. It was to be used as a decoy to attract the British and French fire, while at a distance of not less than four hundred yards from the deep moat, rows and rows of deep, narrow, and zigzagged trenches were completed or in the act of being constructed.

Hundreds of Turks were busy, working by lantern-light, in digging themselves in, while the whole system of earthworks literally bristled with machine-guns. At the back of each trench, Dick noticed, were light canvas screens stretched upon wooden frames, and painted a similar colour to that of the surrounding soil. These screens were ready to be drawn across the trenches on the approach of hostile air-craft, In order that the observers would be unable to locate the position of the defences.

At frequent intervals between the trenches, concrete emplacements for heavy field-guns had been constructed, their fronts and sides being well protected by sand-bags hidden by coarse grass and thorn-bushes. Already a dozen huge guns were in position, while others were being hauled up by traction-engines to within a few feet of the site, whence they were dragged on to the platforms by dint of abundance of manual labour.

These, apparently, were the reserve line of defence, for farther afield a myriad of men were working like ants on a disturbed ant-heap; but the darkness and the increased distance prevented Dick from coming to any definite conclusion as to the nature of their toil. Dearly would he have liked to have had his binoculars, and he regretted the hasty decision that led to the discarding of those belonging to Major von Eitelheimer.

Almost beneath the place where he crouched, and between the moat and the sea-front, was a stretch of rocky ground averaging a hundred yards in width. Here the narrow-gauge line reappeared. With methodical craftiness the Turks had refrained from carrying the line across the moat, where it would be exposed to shell-fire. Instead, they had gone to the extreme pains of driving a tunnel underneath the deep ditch, so that the means of transporting the torpedoes to their firing-station were entirely concealed and protected.

Almost at the water's edge were two torpedo-tubes, around which a party of officers and men in German naval uniforms were busily engaged in making some adjustment to the intricate mechanism.

"Men from the Goeben and Breslau, by Jove!" muttered Dick. "Wouldn't I like to send a shot through the war-head of that 'tinfish'! It would tickle those fellows a bit. I've half a mind to try."

"What's the move, sir?" whispered the midshipman, seeing his superior officer place his hand on his revolver holster.

Fortunately the Sub's calmer councils prevailed. He realized upon second thoughts that with a weapon to which he was not accustomed there was a good chance of a miss. It would be of more service to the British naval and military authorities to be informed of all the preparations for defence that the officers had observed, rather than attempting to destroy at long odds a couple of torpedo-tubes and the torpedo gunners.

It was fairly safe to assume that these tubes had only recently been placed in position. For one reason, the concrete platforms looked fairly new; for another, Dick was certain that the torpedoes that had been fired at the Calder during her observation-dash up The Narrows had not been discharged from that position. It showed that, however gallant the dash had been, it was useless unless contingent measures were immediately forthcoming before the Turks could erect new guns and torpedo-firing stations.

All these observations Dick and his companion made with great rapidity. A naval training teaches a man to observe and act promptly. Every minute was precious, for by this time the German sergeant-major might have made the discovery of his two unconscious officers.

As a matter of fact, the fellow had gone straight to the room in which "the cursed Englishmen" were supposed to be detained, but finding the door locked, he concluded that Major von Eitelheimer and Second-lieutenant Schwalbe had finished their business with the prisoners, and had gone to their quarters before proceeding on parade.

"We'll have to get clear of this, Farnworth," declared Dick. "Are you game for a twenty-foot drop? It'll mean neck or nothing."

"Or perhaps a broken ankle, sir," added the midshipman. "I saw a pole with a hook at one end a little way along the gallery. I'll get it."

Farnworth backed through the embrasure and hurried off. Without arousing any suspicion, for the Turkish artillerymen still kept out of sight of the supposed German officers, he removed the pole from its slings. It was about fifteen or eighteen feet in length, and, as the midshipman had stated, was provided with a large steel hook.

With very little difficulty he passed it, hook end inwards, to the Sub, who recognized it as being part of the equipment of Turkish fire-brigades. He had seen men using this device on a previous visit to the Near East, when a disastrous fire broke out in the Galata district of the capital of the Ottoman Empire. Whenever a fire showed signs of getting beyond the control of the firemen with their primitive appliances, these poles were employed to pull down adjacent houses and thus limit the conflagration to a certain area.

"Spiffing!" declared Dick. "Now down you shin, while I keep the hook from slipping."

Extreme caution was necessary, since, twenty feet above them, a pair of search-lights were in full operation. These were a blessing in disguise, for the contrast threw the outer face of the wall and the bottom of the ditch, into deep shadow, although occasionally the projectors were trained so low that the beams played upon the steep slope of the opposite side of the moat.

Allowing Farnworth sufficient time to descend, the Sub agilely followed, notwithstanding the fact that he was encumbered with the heavy German overcoat.

"What shall we do with this, sir?" whispered the midshipman, giving the pole a slight shake.

"We'll have to use it to get out of the moat," replied Dick. "Bear away a little to the right. We stand a better chance of dodging that infernal search-light. I fancy even our borrowed uniforms would not allay suspicion if the Turks spotted us shinning up the wall. Steady! 'Ware barbed wire."

The two officers pulled up only just in time to escape the sharp points of a triple row of entanglements, that in the darkness had escaped their notice. Well it was that they had not attempted to leap from the embrasure, otherwise the momentum would have carried them headlong into the veritable trap.

By mutual aid the two comrades succeeded in crawling through the wire. The presence of the entanglements was a warning, and they proceeded with even greater caution.

A couple of yards beyond this barrier Dick's ankle came in contact with another wire. It was barbless.

"What luck!" muttered the Sub. "If the current had been switched on it would have been all up," for the copper tape was intended to conduct an electric current of sufficient voltage to destroy any living thing that came in contact with it.

Nevertheless they took precautions. It would never do to risk contact with another wire in case it might be charged; so unbuckling his scabbard, which being painted a dull grey did not reflect the light, he wrapped around it several folds of a silk handkerchief which had formerly belonged to Major von Eitelheimer. Holding the insulated scabbard in front of him, Dick proceeded towards the remote face of the ditch, Farnworth treading in his footsteps.

"Lie down," whispered the Sub hoarsely.

Both officers did so, as a giant beam swinging overhead gradually descended till the lower arc struck half-way down the wall against which the fugitives were lying. Had the fugitives attempted to climb a minute earlier, they would have been "picked up" by the dazzling rays.

Suddenly the sharp rattle of musketry, punctuated by the deeper bark-bark of quick-firers, came from the eastern part of Fort Medjidieh. Up swung the troublesome beam until it pointed within ten degrees of the vertical. Other search-lights were likewise trained skywards.

A thousand feet or more in the air glided seven water-planes, looking no bigger than swallows. Detected by the alert Turks, they were subjected to a heavy fire. Shells seemed to burst perilously close, yet serenely they pursued their course at regular intervals like a flight of wood-pigeons.

An appalling crash, against which the noise of the fusillade paled into insignificance, told that a bomb dropped from the leading sea-plane had landed almost in the centre of the fort. Although, from where they lay, the British officers could form no accurate idea of where it fell, they knew that the powerful missile had pitched not far from the quarters they had involuntarily occupied only a short while ago.

"Blest if I want to be sky-highed by our own sea-planes!" declared Dick. "Let's make a bolt for it."

Profiting by the confusion caused by the fall of the bomb, and by the fact that the attention of the Turkish search-light was directed skywards, the two fugitives set the pole in position, engaging the hook in the coping-stone of the wall.

Hand over hand Farnworth climbed to the top, where he threw himself on the sandy soil until the Sub rejoined him. As he did so the second and third bombs dropped almost simultaneously, exploded—one close to a search-light in the wall, the other in the moat; the blast of the detonation sending a shower of stones and dust over the two prostrate figures.

The troops engaged in throwing up earthworks and digging trenches had promptly vanished on hearing the explosion of the first bomb. A few had delayed bolting to their burrows sufficiently long to draw the canvas screens over the deep narrow trenches. Here and there a shot rang out from the earthworks, but for the most part the Turks in that locality were restrained from firing lest the flashes should indicate the position of the trenches.

Dick led the way, purposely choosing a direction that would take the fugitives towards the mountainous interior. He knew that on their flight being discovered a strict search would be made along the shore; while on the other hand the Turks would not be likely to look for them in the interior. His idea was to make a circuitous detour, and regain the Allies' position in the vicinity of the French troops operating near Kum Kale. Already his eyes had marked a gap between the triple rows of trenches where it seemed possible to pass through the hostile lines.

Suddenly the ground gave way beneath the feet of the two officers. With futile efforts they grasped at the earth to save themselves, then, encompassed by a cloud of dust, they dropped headlong into a deep pit.

CHAPTER XI

A Modern Odyssey

Farnworth regained his feet with great agility and assisted Dick to rise. Feeling considerably shaken by his unexpected tumble, the Sub was temporarily winded. For the moment he imagined that his ankle had been sprained, and on placing his hand upon that part of his leg he made the discovery that it was bleeding freely.

"By Jove, sir!" whispered the midshipman, "we've had a narrow squeak. Look!"

The reflection from the search-light made it possible to discern their immediate surroundings. The pit had vertical sides and measured roughly thirty feet by ten, and was about eight feet in depth. It had been covered by a thin layer of rushes supported by slender poles, but the fall of the two officers had resulted in the collapse of the greater part of the covering of the booby-trap. But what had occasioned Farnworth's exclamation was that the floor was plentifully studded with sharp wooden spikes, and it was only owing to the fact that Dick and his companion had stumbled over from the innermost side that they had escaped being impaled. Had they been members of an attacking force and had fallen into the trap while advancing against the fort, they would almost to a certainty have been transfixed by the wicked-looking spikes.

"We have," assented Crosthwaite dryly, "judging by the state of von Eitelheimer's trousers. One of the spikes has ripped them pretty badly, and, what is more, has given my ankle a little gash. Hope to goodness the beggars haven't poisoned the spikes!"

"I'll give you a leg up, sir," suggested the midshipman. "We'll have to go jolly slow till we get outside the earthworks. The whole place is a honeycomb of death-traps."

"No, I'll give you a hoist—I'm heavier than you," said Dick. "Wait till I've knocked a bit of thatch off at the end of the pole. It will serve as a guide."

Having done so, the Sub bent down while his companion clambered on his back. Farnworth was then able to raise himself on to the brink of the booby-trap and gain the upper ground. Then, lying at full length, he attempted to help his comrade up, but without success. The sides of the pit afforded no foothold.

"Can you dig out a niche with your sword, sir?" he asked.

"I'll try; but the stuff's so infernally soft," declared Dick. "Hallo, what's up now?"

"Turks!" announced Farnworth.

At that moment a search-light, that for the last ten minutes had been directed skywards, flung its rays athwart the ground, and the midshipman's grey uniform was shown up as if made of silver. To escape detection was impossible, for about a dozen Turkish infantrymen were at that moment hurrying towards the outlying trenches. With the outcome of local knowledge they were shaping a course to clear the edge of the pitfall.

Quickly Farnworth made up his mind and acted promptly. With a commanding gesture he stopped the men and ordered them to approach. This they did smartly and without suspicion. A corporal in charge of the party saluted, and, shouting an order to his men, brought them up with some semblance of order.

Imperiously the midshipman signed to them to assist his companion out of the pitfall. This they did with extreme alacrity, prompted by fear of their supposed German officers. Having regained his temporary freedom, Dick, without any attempt at thanks, ordered them in German to replace the dislodged cover to the pit. One of the Turks understood sufficient German to know what was required; the squad set to work, while Dick and his companion unconcernedly walked off.

"We must trust to luck not to find a German in this section of the advanced trenches," said Dick as they drew well clear of the scene of their late misadventure. "We'll have to risk it, for there's no other way."

Cautiously picking their path between numerous rifle-pits and concealed machine-guns, the two fugitives made for a part of the defences where a gap appeared to exist between the trenches. Here men were hard at work under the direction of Turkish officers. The latter saluted as the supposed German officers approached, but made no attempt to converse with them. Instead they urged their men to greater efforts, as if everything depended upon satisfying their Teutonic masters in the art of war.

By this time the Allied air squadron had disappeared. Without sustaining injury, and having done considerable damage to Fort Medjidieh, the sea-planes returned to their parent ship, the Ark Royal. Once more the Turkish search-lights directed part of their activities to sweeping the surrounding country.

Arriving at the farthermost line of trenches, Dick coolly mounted the parapet and took a careful survey of their general direction and character. He noticed that they were extraordinarily deep and narrow, so that unless a shell actually pitched into a trench the danger to the Turkish defenders was comparatively small. Another matter which attracted his attention was the number of machine-guns. Not only were there dozens concealed a hundred yards or so to the rear of the foremost trenches, but the parapets of the trenches fairly bristled with these deadly weapons. Roughly, there was one to every five yards, each gun being protected by a heavy V-shaped shield. The Turks had thoroughly mastered the principles of modern warfare under European conditions, and the task of the Allied Expeditionary Force was to be a very stiff one.

The Sub and his companion quite realized the extreme risk they were running. To be captured in the disguise of German officers meant an ignominious death as spies, but their audacity completely disarmed suspicion. To all appearances they were zealously visiting the Turkish troops engaged in perfecting the landward defences.

After a lengthy survey Dick leisurely descended the low parapet, and, accompanied by the midshipman, strolled towards the soldiers engaged in erecting barbed-wire entanglements in front of the trenches and clearing away the brushwood that might afford cover to an attacking force.

Then, watching their opportunity, the twain walked steadily past the workers and gained the comparatively open country.

Since an attack was not for the present expected, no outlying pickets had been posted. On descending a slight irregularity in the terrain Dick and the midshipman found themselves out of the direct glare of the search-light, while every step took them farther and farther away from the scene of their captivity during the last six weeks.

"Which way now, sir?" asked Farnworth.

"Due east until it gets light. Then we'll have to lie low during the day, and shape a course for the neighbourhood of Kum Kale as soon as it becomes dark again."

"I'm beginning to feel jolly hungry, sir."

"And so am I," admitted Dick. "The problem of how we are to attend to the victualling department must not be lost sight of. But for the present we must put as great a distance as possible between us and our pursuers—and I hope they won't look for us in this direction."

On and on they plodded steadily, maintaining silence and straining their ears for sounds of human beings. Being night the peasantry took good care not to be about, for the civilian population, consisting almost entirely of old men, women, and children, had been warned of the danger of being in the vicinity of the defences after sunset.

"Something moving," reported the midshipman, "and precious close, too."

The two officers halted and listened intently.

Not so very far away on their right front came a succession of soft thuds, as if caused by someone dropping a number of sand-bags with considerable regularity.

"Camels," whispered the Sub.

He was right. A convoy bearing supplies was on its way from the interior towards the Dardanelles forts. They passed along a rough track within fifty feet of the spot where the officers lay hidden—a hundred or more patient beasts heavily laden, and in charge of a number of natives. About a dozen Bashi Bazouks, fierce-looking fellows whose weapons gleamed in the dull light, served as an escort.

The fugitives waited until the sounds of the passing convoy had died away.

"Bear more to the left," whispered Dick. "We're converging too much upon a hill road. We'll have to foot it pretty briskly, for it must be sunrise within an hour."

"Isn't it about time we discarded our rotten togs?" asked Farnworth, whose whole being felt repugnance at the idea of having to don the dishonourable uniform of Germany.

"They'll come in useful again before very long, unless I am much mistaken," declared Dick. "Now, steady. We're beginning the ascent of Biyuk Dagh. We'll be fairly beyond pursuit now, I fancy."

"I feel as if I'd like to burst into song out of sheer delight, after being cooped up for nearly six weeks," declared Farnworth.

"No, don't," said Dick hurriedly and with well-feigned anxiety. "It would be hard luck to pile the whole of the agony upon me: wait till you're back in the gun-room."

The midshipman smiled grimly. He had a most atrocious voice when it came to singing, and he knew it. Far from being sensitive on the point, he took the Sub's banter in good part.

Up and up the fugitives toiled, until from sheer breathlessness they were compelled to throw themselves upon the ground. The sight that met their was superb.

The whole of The Narrows and a large portion of the rest of the Dardanelles was plainly visible: a narrow silvery streak under the beams of innumerable search-lights. Beyond, also marked by the sources of dozens of slowly-swaying beams of light, were the forts on the European side, backed by the lofty hills of the narrow Gallipoli peninsula. Twenty miles away a regular galaxy of light marked the position of the Allied fleets, the search-lights of which kept ceaseless watch and ward against any possible, nay probable, attempt on the part of the Turks to assail them by means of their destroyers and torpedo-boats.

"Reminds me of Spithead on review nights as seen from the top of Portsdown Hill," declared Farnworth. "I wish I were there now! No, I don't. I'd rather be over there."

And he pointed in the direction of the British fleet, amongst which lay, as far as he knew, the old Hammerer.

"Better be moving," suggested Dick.

Although he said nothing about the matter to his companion, he was beginning to become painfully aware of the injury to his ankle. So long as he kept in motion the injury troubled him but little; during his enforced rest it began to burn and throb. The pangs of hunger were also making themselves felt. With the rising of the sun he knew that another discomfort—thirst—would be added to their lot.

Long before the fugitives reached the summit of the steep mountain, dawn was upon them. With a rapidity that almost equalled the shortness of the tropical break of day, it grew light; then above the crest of a yet unsurmounted hill rose the sun.

"Phew! It is hot," ejaculated Farnworth, opening his greatcoat. Then he stopped and burst out into laughter.

"We are a proper pair, sir," he exclaimed.

Their faces were grimed with dirt and dust; their grey uniforms were discoloured with mud and rent in several places, owing to their encounter with the prickly bushes. Dick's rough-and-ready "shave" with the scissors had left enough bristles to give him a truly ferocious appearance, while Farnworth's face was streaked with dried blood from several scratches he had received during the hazardous journey from Fort Medjidieh.

Acting upon their previous plans the two officers "laid low" during the greater part of the day. Fortunately they were able to assuage their thirst at a rivulet that trickled down the mountainside, but the pangs of hunger had become most acute.

Although there was plenty of activity in and around the forts, there were no signs of life in the vicinity of the fugitives; so at about four in the afternoon—according to Crosthwaite's estimate from the position of the sun—they resolved to run the risk of detection and push on in search of food.

An hour's steady walk brought them to a rough mountain track. This they followed by a parallel course, not daring to keep to the path, and after twenty minutes they came in sight of a village.

It was a miserable collection of hovels, situated in a narrow valley, yet it boasted of a small mosque with a slender minaret. There were no signs of any men, but, in the rough pasture close to the hamlet, veiled women were tending flocks of sheep and goats.

"We'll tackle the business openly," declared Dick. "If we tried to sneak up to the nearest hut and collar some grub there might be a rumpus. If, on the other hand, they think we are German officers they'll be only too glad to provide us with food in order to get rid of our presence."

Pulling themselves together the two pseudo-German officers swaggered boldly into the village. From barred lattices, yashmaked women peeped timorously. A few ragged children scampered off, crying loudly at the sight of the Franks. Half a dozen lean dogs quarrelling over a heap of garbage directed their attention with savage growls to the strangers, until Dick drove them off by planting a well-aimed stone in the leader's ribs.

Hearing the commotion, a dignified old man came from one of the larger of the houses close to the mosque. He was the imaum or priest. With a courteous salutation he invited the supposed German officers to enter, but before crossing the threshold he signified that they would have to remove their boots.

Nothing loath, Dick and the midshipman complied. A youth brought a basin of water, a towel, and two pairs of soft-leather slippers. The needful Eastern ceremony of washing the feet of distinguished travellers was fully appreciated by the tired wayfarers.

Entering the house, the officers were regaled with a repast of roasted goat's flesh and cakes made of flour and millet, with unsweetened coffee and curdled milk. The men attacked the meal ravenously, while the imaum, seated tailorwise on a low divan, watched them with studious gravity.

"Medjidieh?" asked Dick after they had satisfied their hunger.

The old man pointed in a westerly direction, and said something to the youth. The latter immediately picked up his sandals and made for the door.

Gravely saluting the hospitable Mahommedan priest, Dick and the midshipman took their departure. Peremptorily dismissing the lad who had been sent to act as a guide, the officers retraced their steps until a ridge of intervening ground hid them from the village.

"Decent old sort," commented Farnworth. "I wonder if he would have been so awfully keen in giving us grub if he knew who we really were?"

"Can't say," replied Dick. "One thing: hanged if I could bring myself to a display of Prussian arrogance, but by not doing so I might be giving the show away. Now we'll work our way round the village and resume our former direction. I made out we were on the way to Medjidieh. That ought to throw any possible pursuers off the track."

Skirting the village necessitated a wide detour, but before sunset the fugitives calculated that they had put twenty miles between them and their prison-fortress. It ought to be fairly safe to attempt a dash for the coast in the neighbourhood of Kum Kale.

The heat was now terrific in spite of the altitude, so Dick suggested that they should have "watch below" until the sun had sunk considerably in the heavens. A thicket afforded a complete shelter from the pitiless rays, and with a blissful disregard of the danger from scorpions and other reptiles the two officers crept into the shade and were soon sound asleep.

Suddenly they were awakened by the dull buzz of an aerial propeller. Crawling from their place of repose, Dick and the midshipman saw a French monoplane flying barely two hundred feet above the ground.

"We'll try and attract that fellow's attention," exclaimed Dick. "I don't suppose he can give us a lift, but he may be able to——"

There was no time to complete the sentence. Dashing out in the open, the Sub waved his arms, shouting at the top of his voice:

"A nous, camarade. Nous sommes Anglais."

Overhead swept the aeroplane. The observer leant over the chassis and critically surveyed the two figures in German uniforms. He shouted something, but the words were unintelligible, although he could distinctly hear the Sub's call for aid.

"Nous sommes prisonniers Anglais—prisonniers échappés!" bawled Dick frantically.

The Frenchman again waved his hand. The monoplane calmly continued its course, then, majestically circling, it began to descend.

"Hurrah!" shouted the midshipman. "Who says the age of miracles has passed?"

Even as he spoke an irregular volley burst from a slight depression in the ground about five hundred yards from where the officers stood. Sharply banking, the aeroplane rose to a safe distance, dropping a bomb as she did so, then began to retrace its course.

"Look out!" exclaimed Dick warningly, as the monoplane passed nearly overhead.

Almost at the first report of the rifles the fugitives withdrew from their exposed position. They were now in danger from another direction, as Dick had foreseen.

A small black object dropped from underneath the chassis of the aeroplane. Rapidly gathering speed it fell within twenty yards of the Sub and his companion. It was a bomb; but owing either to faulty mechanism or to the fact that it alighted on soft sand, it failed to explode, otherwise the officers would have been blown to pieces.

"What luck!" muttered Farnworth. "I suppose those fellows took us for a pair of treacherous German skunks. It wasn't their fault."

"Anyhow, I'm not going to wait till those chaps come up to investigate," added Dick, referring to the still invisible riflemen. "So here's off! Keep to the dip in the ground and avoid the sand. We don't want to leave our tracks."

Breaking into a steady run the fugitives hurried away from the direction of the interrupters of their peace of mind. Already the monoplane was a mere speck in the distance.

"Take cover!" hissed Dick breathlessly. "They're on our track."

Once again the two comrades sought shelter in a thicket. They were not a minute too soon, for amid a cloud of dust about fifty Turkish irregulars galloped madly down the path. They were armed with Mauser and Mannlicher rifles and carbines, and in addition a regular armoury of revolvers and knives, while several wore long curved swords. Some of them had been wounded by the explosion of the bomb, and rode with the blood streaming down their faces. Yet each man urged his steed to its utmost capacity as if with a set purpose, and hardly looking to the right or left they passed by, leaving only a cloud of suffocating dust that hung listlessly in the still, hot air.

"I thought they were after us," said Dick, after a safe interval had elapsed, "but I think I'm mistaken. They've some other little game on."

"Perhaps they didn't see us at all," suggested Farnworth.

"Pretty well certain they didn't, for by this time all the Turkish troops in the district must have heard of our escape and of our disguises. Well, let's carry on."

For several hours they plodded wearily along the steep mountain path, their senses keenly on the alert, since they now knew that cavalry were in the vicinity. It was somewhat disconcerting to know that a body of irregulars lay between them and the coast, but both Dick and the midshipman were curious to know why these horsemen had hurried in the direction of Kum Kale, since they were not sufficiently numerous to constitute a danger to any considerable force.

Happening to look over his shoulder, the Sub saw that another body of men was overtaking them.

It was a mixed column of horse and foot, accompanied by wagons—in fact a small convoy.

"If we strike away to the right we'll miss them easily, sir," suggested the midshipman.

Dick shook his head.

"We'll only get 'bushed' at night, that is if the stars are hidden," he said. "Besides, we're pretty well done up; so we'll lie low and let these fellows pass. I'm rather anxious to see what they are up to."

The convoy was still a long way off, the advance-guard being quite three miles from where the officers stood. It was slowly making its way up the mountain side, the moving line resembling a huge snake as it wound along the intricate path.

"We're safe enough here," announced Dick, when they had taken up their position between two fantastically-shaped rocks about fifty yards from the road.

The overhanging mass afforded complete shelter from the sun, while the broken ground in the rear would afford excellent cover in case they had to put a greater distance between them and the approaching convoy.

"Bluejackets!" exclaimed Farnworth.

"You're right," agreed Dick quietly. "Some of them are, at all events. This looks interesting."

It took more than an hour for the convoy to get abreast of the place where the fugitives lay concealed. The column was headed by a dozen Turkish irregular cavalry, similar in appearance to those who had passed earlier in the day. Following them came a company of infantry, escorting a number of open wagons drawn by small, hardy-looking ponies. The wagons were heavily laden with tins of petrol. Following them were about fifty bluejackets, not of the Ottoman navy, but in the rig of the Imperial German navy. They were accompanied by five or six German officers in white-duck uniforms, all of them mounted. At some distance in the rear came six trucks each containing four large torpedoes, while the convoy terminated in another troop of Turkish horsemen.

"Fishy, very fishy!" declared Crosthwaite after the column had passed. "Petrol and torpedoes."

"Suggestive of submarines, sir," remarked Farnworth.

"Exactly. Now the question is, where are those fellows taking that gear to? Even supposing the French had evacuated the district around Kum Kale, there would be no particular object in taking them there. A submarine could take in her stock of torpedoes at Constantinople, and be piloted through the mine-fields in The Narrows. They might be en route for Smyrna, but, since there is a railway available, it doesn't seem at all likely. Evidently a hostile submarine is operating outside."

"A German?" hazarded Farnworth.

"I hope not; but there is no saying what these fellows will be up to. Everything seems in their favour in that direction. They can torpedo our ships, and we have nothing afloat to go for in return. Still, in sinking their submarines we haven't done so badly, and I guess while we've been cooped up here our fellows have nabbed a few more. Anyway, it would be interesting to find out where those torpedoes are going. I vote we follow at a respectable distance until dusk, and then close on them a bit."

"I'm game, sir," consented the midshipman.

While daylight lasted they had no difficulty in following the trail. They were in luck's way, for they found a haversack containing some dates and half a loaf. The food, washed down by a little spring water, revived them considerably, the midshipman declaring that he felt "absolutely bucked".

Towards sunset Dick gave the word for an increased speed, and before darkness set in they were within two hundred yards of the slowly-moving rear-guard. By dint of taking cover and advancing with the utmost caution they managed to keep in touch with the object of their investigations.

At about midnight the Turco-German force halted. It was evident that they feared no surprise, for fires were lighted at a safe distance from the explosives, and the men were permitted to smoke and talk freely. The irregulars dismounted and, having hobbled their horses, joined the others around the fires.

It was now bitterly cold, and the glow of the burning wood was tantalizing to the worn and tired Sub and his companion. Well it was that they had not discarded the German greatcoats, otherwise their limbs would have been numbed by the fall in the temperature.

They welcomed the order to resume the march with far more eagerness than did the men to whom it applied, for Dick could hear the German officers rating both their own countrymen and the unfortunate Turks.

Judging by the position of the Pole Star, Dick knew that the convoy was proceeding in a south-easterly direction. The course would bring them to the sea-coast some distance to the east of Kum Kale and not far from the Bay of Yenikeui, where the Sub's whaler had met with misfortune.

"We may be able to get in touch with one of our patrol boats," he remarked. "If so, we'll be taken off; but first, by Jove, I want to find out the meaning of this nocturnal jaunt!"

Twice the British officers had to fall behind and make a detour round isolated villages, since it was obviously too risky to follow the convoy direct; but so slow was its progress that they were able to re-establish the same relative distance.

"The sea," whispered Dick, "I can hear it."

"And I can smell it," declared Farnworth as he sniffed at the unmistakably salt-laden atmosphere.

"We're up a tremendous height. Quite a thousand feet, I should imagine. We'll have to make sure those fellows don't halt their rear-guard."

For the next two miles the path was steeply on the down grade. Rough as it had been before, it now almost impassable. The Sub wondered how the Turks contrived to transport the heavy load of petrol and the torpedoes without risk of upsetting the former and damaging the intricate mechanism of the latter. He could hear the grinding of the wheels over the loose stones and the groaning of the axles of the burdened vehicles, interspersed with the jabbering of the Turkish drivers and the guttural of the German officers.

"That's done it!" whispered Dick, laying a restraining hand upon the midshipman's arm. "They've posted a picket. Let's get back a bit and discuss matters."

"Couldn't we scale the side of the ravine?" asked Farnworth. "If so, we can work our way round and still keep the fellows under observation."

"Must, I suppose," replied Dick. "It's literally neck or nothing if we miss our footing. Thank goodness, it's a starlit night."

Up and up they climbed, frequently having to make their way in a horizontal direction to avoid an unsurmountable barrier. The cliff was composed of a series of terraces, the ledges being thickly covered with bushes and coarse grass.

"Way enough!" exclaimed the Sub in a low voice. "Keep to this ledge as far as it goes."

Forcing their way through the brambles, with a reckless disregard for the uniforms of von Eitelheitner and his fat satellite, Dick and the midshipman found themselves on the brink of a precipice. Two hundred feet below them the stars were reflected in a placid sheet of land-locked water. Beyond the barrier of lofty rocks could be heard the sullen murmur of the open sea.

"No signs of the convoy, sir," said Farnworth.

"No, they've kept wonderfully quiet the half-hour. I hope we haven't arrived at the wrong rendezvous."

As he spoke a light blinked solemnly from some floating object in the centre of the lake or creek, whichever it happened to be, for no signs of any communication with the sea was to be seen in the darkness.

"Ha!"

The Sub's short, sharp ejaculation was the only indication of his satisfaction. He knew now that his efforts had not been in vain. He was on the eve of an important discovery.

"What do you make of it, sir?" whispered Farnworth.

"Submarine!" replied Dick briefly.

He was right. It was a submarine signalling with a flashing lamp. He wished for dawn, for it was impossible to distinguish her in the darkness.

Thrice she called—and called in vain. No answering signal came from the spot where the mountain path debouched into the narrow sandy beach.

"Hope she won't clear out," soliloquized the Sub. "I'd like to have a good look at her. By Jove, it's getting light!"

The reflection of the stars no longer scintillated in the water. Wreaths of vapour—the mists of morning—were slowly eddying from the surface. Away to the east the stars were paling under the influence of the dawn.

Soon the details of the land-locked estuary became visible. There was a narrow gap in the high ground that communicated with the Ægean Sea. On the opposite side of the creek were a couple of deserted huts and a ruined building, that was formerly a mosque, standing in an isolated position on the summit of a rounded hill. Owing to the mists, the waters of the creek were hidden from sight.

"Look, sir!" whispered Farnworth, who, lying at full length, was examining the beach.

Standing at the water's edge were two German naval officers. A few feet away from them a collapsible boat of the type used in the German navy was drawn up on the beach, with three bluejackets standing rigidly at attention by its side.

Just then a gentle zephyr rent the veil of mist.

Dick gasped in astonishment. Well he might, for floating serenely on the surface was a submarine: not one of the Turkish navy, but one of the most modern of the German unterseebooten.