Serial Story: The Terror of Torlands

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 70, Issue 211, 22 June 1950, Page 3

Serial Story: The Terror of Torlands

By T. C. H. JACOBS

(Copyright)

CHAPTER XXVI. THE CHASE IN THE FOG Freeman went' back to the stern, leaving him crouched forward, quivering with the excitement of the chase. ‘As his eyes became accustomed to the fog he at last made out the streak of her wake, though of the boat itself he could see nothing. On through the dense atmosphere they raced, every man tense, keenly alert. *

“Let her all out,” ordered Freeman. “She is, sir,” reported the engineer. “Keep her sighted.” “Sighted she is, sir.” The hoot of a liner’s syren roared dismally ahead, and Radford heard the look-out curse softly. “Sharp look-out there,” came tiie order from the stern. “Starboard —hard a starboard, sir,” yelled the look-out with desperate urgency, as a dark mass arose over their bows, towering above them like some huge, mis-shapen, monster. Radford, his heart in his mouth, felt the c.utter lurch violently, throwing him sideways into the bottom. ,He saw a line of lights burst out high above them, and heard with vivid intensity the threshing screws and the pounding of the water as they grazed the liner’s side. A stream of lurid profanity floated down through the fog as the police cutter plunged in the wash, rolling dangerously. The voice of Inspector Freeman, totally unperturbed, despite their brush with death, made itself heard above the commotion. “Keep her sighted.” “Crossing our bows, starboard easy, sir.” “Cutter ahoy,” bellowed Freeman, “heave to . . . In the King’s name.” The crack of a rifle, and the thud of a bullet against the gunwale was the answer. “Holy Mother!” cried the Inspector. “The damned pirates! Beat more out of her, engineer.” “Can’t, sir, not. another blade, she’s doing all she can.” “Keep her sighted there.” “Aye, aye, sir. Fog’s lifting ahead, sir.”

Radford, crouching with his head only above the gunwale, perceived a dim shape materialising directly in front, and presently discerned their quarry, a dark painted, powerful-look-ing motor cutter. “Cutter ahoy,” bellowed Freeman again. “Heave to ... in the King’s name.” “No answer, sir,” reported the lookout unnecessarily. Mile after mile the chase continued. A decided swell began to make itself felt, and Radford, licking dry lips, noted the saline taste. “Where are we?” he enquired of the look-out. “Well down from Tilbury, sir. 1 don’t know exactly. By gum, she can travel! We are just about holding our own now; if she has another ounce in her she’ll get away yet.” Radford ground his teeth as he watched the dark shape racing ahead. For the hundredth time he tried to discern her occupants, wondering if it was possible that a woman was numbered among them. His eyes ached with the prolonged effort; the sting of the spray whipped his cheeks, while the night breeze whistled through his hair. Though he did not realise it his hat had been carried overboard nearly an hour ago. The lights of shipping twinkled on the river becoming clearer as the fog lifted. “Can you distinguish any of her crew?” he asked, shouting to make himself heard. “Seems to be a tidy little load Aboard,” replied the look-out, peering ahead. “The craft’s a stranger to me. WTiy, damn it, sir, I believe there is a woman with ’em!” Radford felt his heart pounding Against his ribs as he knelt up, shading his eyes with his hands. Suddenly a powerful beam of light shone out from their quarry, dazzling in its brilliance, and a moment later a bullet whistled perilously near. “Get down,” cried the look-out urgently, covering his eyes as he crouched under the gunwale. Another and another shot followed, and the second in command cried out in pain. “Blast their ruddy eyes,” he exploded, “they’ve plugged my shoulder.” •Freeman swore with unrestrained violence as his lieutenant fell, and one of the men clambered forward to render first-aid.

“Flaming hell,” cried Radford, almost sobbing with impotent rage, “Why the devil don’t we carry a machine gun? At least Ave could smash that cursed light.” The sAvell increased as they rushed seawards, causing “the cutter to roll alarmingly. Drenched Avith spray, Radford gripped the gunAvale with cramped fingers, heedless to the physical discomfort of his position, consumed Avith a burning desire to come up with the boat ahead. He scarcely noticed the increasing velocity of the Avind, or the fact that it had commenced to pour with rain.

“If this Avind stiffens Ave’re in for a rough trip,” shouted the look-out in his ear. “We’ll be shipping it green before soon. Anyway, if they can stick it so can Ave; she’s too naiTOAv in the beam for the stuff she’ll run into presently.” The truth of this Radford realised Avithin the next half an hour, as Freeman altered the course slightly in response to the look-out’s hail. The cutter began to pitch in a manner which he found distinctly unpleasant. Water struck him in the face with such force that lie gasped for breath. He Avrenched his cramped fingers from the gunAvale, and crawled back to the stern. Freeman, glancing at him, bared his teeth in a mirthless grin. “Nice little dance your friends are leading us,” he shouted hoarsely. “We’ll fetch up in Davey Jones’ locker before dawn, mark my Avords.” “Cutter coming about,” sir,” baAvled the look-out. Freeman half rose in his seat to stare incredulously ahead. “Great God, the damned fools!” he cried.

Radford swaying unsteadily beside him saw the cutter disappear in the trough of a wave, ride broadside on the crest, hover for ail instant before

it was hurled back to disappear once more. “Stand by with belts,” roared Freeman. The police cutter plunged down into the swirling trough leaped wildly at the great wave which towered above them, shutting out all but the racing walls of water. For one terrible moment it seemed that only a miracle could save them. The little craft staggered, paused as if summoning its last reserve of strength before it leaped forward to rise triumphant from those dreadful depths. “Port, hard a port,” bellowed the look-out, but Freeman drove straight on. To alter his course now would be to court the disaster which had overtaken their quarry. The cutter plunged down with sickening violence, struck the upturned keel of the wrecked vessel, shivered like a living thing ere it was lifted, borne on a second wave to safety. Tv/o hands rose out of the water as it swept by. A despairing cry came up to them and Radford saw that Avhich he had been seeking. On the crest of the next Avave Avhich came roaring dOAvn upon them appeared the face of a Avoman.

A life belt shot out and fell behind her, a second dropped beyond - her reach. Simultaneously Radford leaped up, tearing off his hea\ r y overcoat, sprang upon the gunwale and plunged overboard.

The great Avave took him, bore him down, doAvn until his lungs Avere bursting. Desperately he struggled and as he came ,to the surface his fingers tAvined among the meshes of her hair. Instantly he had seized her and turning upon liis hack held her beneath the armpits in a position of comparative safety. He heard Freeman’s stentorian voice roaring orders but the boat itself he could not see. A lifebelt floated by and lie seized it eagerly, placing it around the girl Avho lay passive in his grip. The Avaves SAvept them on in a wild nightmare Avorld of whirling Avater. The stark cold was already cramping his fingers, he Avondered lioav long it Avould be possible for him to hold on, to endure the buffeting of the angry seas.

Suddenly he saw the cutter rise upon tlie crest of a Avave and his heart gave a bound of joy, for she Avas heading hack toAvard him. Freeman had taken the chance and come through safely. A cork belt fell beside him as the police boat drove by. With a mighty effort he clutched it, held on grimly as it was almost jerked from his grasp. Together they rose upon tlie Avater, sank and rose again right under, the cutter’s stern. Eager hands reached out for them, strong arms hauled them inboard. The water broke over them in a last effort to drag them back, but gasping in the bottom Radford breathed a prayer of thankfulness for their deliverance.

Anderson felt himself falling, falling into an abysmal darkness Avith the sound of rushing, swirling Avater roaring in his ears. Instinctively his hands went out to check his fall, but the walls of the shaft Avere Avet and slimy. Though it Avas only a matter of a few seconds before they plunged into the*. Avater below, it seemed to him that the nightmare descent occupied a A'ast period of time. He heard Morris cry out, felt his head submerged and the Aveight of the water bearing him along. Mechanically he noted that his feet Avere touching the. bottom and forced upwards, his fingers clutching a rough projecting piece of Avail. “Right, Morris?” he gasped, his voice echoing dismally in the inky blackness. (To he Continued.)

The characters in. this story are entirely imaginary, and no reference to living persons is. intended.