Pilot-Commander Pring was a tall, thin man with a long, sharp face. Although he was English, he had spent most of his life in America.
His face was still pale with anger and humiliation when I closed the door of my private office at the A.P. Station. Inside with me were Pring, the millionaire Mr. Van Adams, and Mr. Rickaby, second officer of the Albatros.
“Now, gentlemen, please sit down. I want to ask Captain Pring a few questions.”
“Sir Joshua Johnson has already given me the main facts, but I want to hear the details from you. I won’t keep you long. I simply felt I should speak to you before anyone else.”
“Oh, quite,” said Mr. Van Adams.
He was a heavyset man with sharp, watchful eyes and a pointed chin.
“This is an extraordinary affair, Captain Pring,” I continued.
“But thank goodness, you haven’t lost your ship or any lives. I know what the Albatros means to you.”
“She means everything to me!” Pring exploded.
“She’s my father, my mother, my brother, my sister, my maid, and my dog under the wagon!”
Then he completely lost control.
“His Majesty’s Mails! The first time in the history of flying, and it happens to ME!”
“Cold-blooded piracy in the High Air!”
“They’d have blown us to pieces without blinking!”
“When I get my hands on that filthy pirate skipper, I won’t leave him a scrap of skin on his miserable body!”
He continued like that for nearly two full minutes according to the office clock.
I let him go.
It was the quickest way to calm him down. A man like Pring could be dangerous if you tried to force him to control himself.
“The captain is naturally furious,” I said.
“Oh, quite,” Van Adams replied.
Then we got down to business.
“Let’s begin with the strange airship, Captain Pring. She approached you from the west, correct?”
“She did, Sir John. Does that tell you anything?”
“It would suggest that she came from Europe. But that may have been a trick. She could have been waiting somewhere for hours.”
“That’s exactly what makes it strange.”
“All the aircraft within fifteen hundred miles of the American and Canadian coast during the past thirty hours were questioned by the U.S. Air Police. Not one of them saw her.”
“And you know the traffic out there in summer. From Cape Race to Charleston, the sky is packed with aircraft. They’re everywhere.”
“Isn’t that right, Mr. Van Adams?”
“Quite, Captain Pring.”
“I understand what you’re suggesting,” I said.
“But let’s leave that aside for the moment.”
“I understand there were several unusual things about this ship. What were they?”
“She was the fastest thing in the sky. No question about it.”
“I’ve flown long enough to know what I’m looking at. And that ship had four propellers, one of the very few I’ve ever seen with that arrangement.”
“If she couldn’t do two hundred and forty miles an hour without a tailwind, then I’ll eat my hat!”
I whistled.
Such a speed had been imagined, but never achieved by any aircraft I knew.
“Nearly three times the speed of a hurricane,” I said.
“She could outrun the dawn, Sir John. That’s what I believe.”
“There has never been a flying boat like her.”
“And she can’t have more than twelve or fifteen men aboard, as far as I could tell. The rest of the space must be engines and fuel.”
“She isn’t much more than twice the size of one of your patrol boats.”
This was important information.
Every moment the mystery became more serious.
“That narrows our search considerably,” I said.
“A ship like that couldn’t be built anywhere in the world without leaving some kind of trace.”
“You’re seeing things differently now, aren’t you?” Pring said.
“There’s another point.”
He paused.
“I’m about to surprise you again, Sir John. But I swear to God I’m telling the truth.”
“Mr. Rickaby can confirm every word.”
Rickaby, a handsome, brown-faced young man, nodded.
“It’s all true, Sir John.”
“Of course I know you aren’t mistaken, Pring,” I said impatiently.
“And I certainly don’t think either of you would make a fool of the Chief Commissioner over something this serious.”
“So what is the second point?”
“The man who designed that ship—or the man who operates her—has solved another problem.”
“He’s finally built silent engines.”
“That ship’s engines make no more noise than a June bug.”
“On a dark night, she could pass within two hundred yards of you, and you’d never know she was there.”
That was the moment I understood what we were really dealing with.
The air itself had become dangerous.
A tiger suddenly released into a peaceful countryside would have been nothing compared with this.
The other three men could see that I finally understood.
“Now, what about the men who boarded the Albatros and robbed her?”
“They were all masked. Their own mothers wouldn’t have recognized them.”
“And they were heavily armed.”
“We could have taken them. We might have lost one or two men, but we’d have done it.”
“But the pirate ship had a four-inch gun aimed directly at us.”
“She meant business.”
“I did the right thing, didn’t I, Sir John?”
His voice trembled, and worry was written all over his face.
“I would have done exactly the same thing under the circumstances, Pring.”
“Your first duty was to protect the women and children in your care.”
“I’m certain the company, the Government, and the public will understand that when the facts become known.”
“Now, about these men. Did you think they were Americans or foreigners?”
“They hardly spoke at all, except to give orders.”
“But whenever they did speak, I heard every word.”
“I was with them the whole time, and so was Rickaby.”
“I’m going to surprise you one more time, Sir John.”
“Those men were English. Every single one of them.”
“And they weren’t some bunch of rough criminals, either.”
“They were educated men. Men who had belonged to good clubs. Men from respectable society.”
“I’m certain of it.”
Rickaby spoke quietly.
“Captain Pring is absolutely right, sir.”
“I’d swear they had all attended a public school or university.”
“Where did you go?” I asked.
“Harrow, sir.”
I nodded.
That was another astonishing fact to think about later, when I was alone.
“And then what happened?” I asked Pring.
“After we’d been out there for some time, a tramp freighter called the Sant Iago came up from the south and rescued us.”
“Later, we saw the lights of Mr. Van Adams’s air yacht, the May Flower.”
“We signaled her, and he came down and took Rickaby and me aboard.”
“Quite,” said the millionaire.
“Captain Pring, I’ll want a long conversation with you tonight.”
“But for now, I have to hand you back to Sir Joshua.”
“I also want all three of you to give me your word that you won’t tell anyone about the ship’s appearance or speed.”
“Nor about her silent engines.”
“And especially don’t tell anyone that you suspect the men aboard her were English.”
“That information is extremely important.”
“In fact, under the authority given to me by the Secretary of State, I am making this an official order.”
“The order cannot legally apply to you, Mr. Van Adams.”
“But you’ve been extremely helpful, and I trust you’ll give me your word.”
“You understand why this must remain secret.”
I could see Van Adams about to use his favorite expression.
But he changed his mind.
“I’m on,” he said.
The two pilots gave me their word, and we left the office together.
As we crossed the terrace, Pring pointed down toward the sea-drome.
Mr. Van Adams’s air yacht, a beautiful cream-and-black aircraft, was resting at her moorings.
“The Atlantis is leaving tonight,” he said.
“She’ll have an armed patrol escort until she meets one of the American A.P. ships in the middle of the Atlantic.”
“Surely you don’t think she’s in danger?”
Until that moment, I had been so absorbed in the Albatros affair that I had barely thought about the outgoing liner.
Perhaps you can’t blame me.
But duty came before everything else.
Pring’s remark suddenly made me think again.
I looked at him anxiously.
He didn’t know the full reason for my concern, but he could see that I was troubled.
“No, Sir John,” he said.
“I don’t think there’s enough danger to worry about.”
“It was only a passing thought.”
“Surely the pirate captain knows that the police forces of two continents will be hunting for him by now.”
“He’ll understand that.”
“If he tried anything in the next few days, he’d have about as much chance as a fat man trying to disappear in Fiji.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You can stop worrying about the Atlantis, sir.”
“And as you said, she’ll have an escort anyway.”
“Quite,” I said.
We both laughed.
“Royal Hotel at ten-thirty,” I told him.
“I’ll be staying there tonight.”
I will never forget that dinner with Connie.
One of her greatest qualities was her calm, natural happiness.
It wasn’t stupidity or childishness.
She simply had a clear and cheerful nature, and her conscience was at peace.
My girl wasn’t foolish.
She understood evil. She knew that life had dark and unpleasant sides.
But none of that had managed to destroy her happiness.
Perhaps her simplicity and the brave, cheerful spirit she carried through life had helped make her so successful.
The British public might admire many artists, but they had taken little Connie Shepherd into their hearts.
She was wonderfully happy throughout dinner.
She laughed, joked, and talked with endless energy.
I tried to match her mood, but it wasn’t easy.
Something was weighing on my mind, and I couldn’t shake it.
“Dear old John,” she said suddenly.
“What is it?”
“You’re unhappy inside, and you’re pretending you’re not.”
“Darling, you’ll be gone in another hour or two.”
“How can I be completely happy about that?”
She shook her head.
“That’s not it.”
“You can’t fool me.”
“I don’t want to leave you either, especially today.”
“But we’re sensible people.”
“We both know it’s only for six weeks.”
“Neither of us is sentimental.”
“That’s a horrible word.”
“What we have goes deeper than that.”
“Well, then, I’ll tell you the truth.”
“And it is the truth.”
“I’m feeling a little out of sorts, and I don’t really know why.”
“Perhaps it’s simply a reaction to everything that’s happened.”
“But most likely it’s because I’ve heard some news about my work.”
“It’s an important problem of organization, and I have to solve it immediately.”
“Forgive me, sweetheart.”
“My dear, if you weren’t the man you are, I would never have said yes to you.”
“No one has ever held a position like yours at your age.”
“I know how hard you’ve worked for it.”
“I love seeing you absorbed in your work.”
By the end of dinner, I felt better.
We walked together down to the sea-drome.
Connie’s heavy luggage had already been sent to New York by steamer a week earlier.
The two small trunks she had brought from London were already aboard the Atlantis.
Wilson and Thumbwood carried her two dressing cases.
It was a perfect evening.
The setting sun had turned the sky into a vast display of gold.
Music from a band on the pier drifted softly up to the terrace of the A.P. Station.
Young men and women in summer clothes walked across the lawns.
A thin new moon was rising over Devonport and the Hamoaze.
We took the electric car down to the sea-drome.
Then we boarded the Atlantis from one of my launches.
All three decks were brightly lit as we climbed aboard by the saloon ladder.
A steward took Connie and her maid to their cabin.
I went to find my old friend, Captain Swainson.
The big, bearded captain was sitting alone in his small room.
A cup of black coffee stood beside him, and he was chewing on an unlit cigar.
I knew immediately that he’d heard something.
“There you are!”
He jumped up from his chair and shook my hand warmly.
“I heard you were here, Sir John.”
“I was determined to see you before we left.”
“Now, what’s going on?”
“Sir Joshua is nearly out of his mind with worry.”
“The offices are in chaos.”
“And Seth Pring—damn him!—has become as silent as an oyster.”
I soon discovered that Swainson knew exactly what Sir Joshua knew, and nothing more.
He was annoyed, but completely calm.
In fact, he seemed inclined to make light of the whole affair.
I decided there was no point in telling him everything.
Pilot Superintendent Lashmar, who would command the escort, would know the full story.
“Well, I’m sending an escort with you halfway across,” I told him.
“Lashmar will go in Patrol Boat No. 1.”
“You know him?”
“The boat is heavily armed, and Lashmar is the best shot in the service.”
“He gained his experience during the Great War.”
“Escort be blowed!”
Captain Swainson laughed.
“I can’t imagine what old Pring was thinking when he allowed himself to be stopped like that.”
“Though, of course, it’s your decision, Sir John.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll actually need the escort.”
“But this affair will attract attention, and having an escort makes sense.”
“Now I’ll tell you something else.”
“I’m engaged to be married.”
“I settled it on the train this morning.”
“The devil you are!”
“Congratulations!”
“Thanks.”
“And there’s more.”
“The lady is aboard your ship.”
“She’ll be flying with you to New York tonight.”
“I want you to look after her for me.”
“Can a duck swim?”
“This is wonderful news!”
“Now I understand the escort!”
“But you must introduce me.”
“It would be a pleasure to make the young lady comfortable.”
We went to look for Connie.
We found her sitting behind one of the large wind screens on the saloon deck.
She was listening to a piano and violin playing below in the palm court.
I remember the musicians were playing old English songs.
The music was sweet and sad.
They had just begun playing The Last Rose of Summer.
I’m not a sentimental man.
But even today, whenever I hear that tune—which thankfully isn’t often—I have to leave the room.
At a quarter to nine, I stood on the Hoe and watched the Atlantis leave for America.
Her navigation lights were shining.
The countless portholes along the enormous fuselage looked like a necklace of amber lights beneath the huge grey wings.
Then the flare-path lights on the sea-drome towers came on.
A long avenue of steady white light stretched out over the water, guiding the liner toward the open sea.
From the roof of the A.P. Station, the compressed-air horn sounded three long blasts.
I had arranged it myself.
It was my farewell to Constance.
Captain Swainson answered with his Klaxon.
Then the Atlantis began moving slowly across the glittering water.
Every second she gained speed.
Then she lifted.
Soon she was clear of the water, climbing steadily into the night.
For a moment I could see the mysterious silver shape inside the beam of light.
Then the flare-path moved farther out toward the sea.
The beam climbed until it was almost vertical.
The Atlantis was spiraling upward toward her ten-thousand-foot cruising altitude.
Within moments, she had become nothing more than a tiny speck.
Just as I lost sight of her, Patrol Ship No. 1 rose into the sky behind her.
It looked like a hawk chasing a heron.
Then both aircraft disappeared into the darkness.
The band on Plymouth Pier was still playing.
Young men and women were still walking across the lawns in the moonlight.
The air was warm and clean, filled with laughter and the voices of girls.
But I returned to the station with a heavy heart.
Two shorthand clerks and two telegraph operators were waiting for me.
During the next hour, I worked through an enormous amount of business.
Telegram after telegram was coming in from America.
They had been relayed through Whitehall.
I sent fifty or sixty messages ordering a complete patrol of the Atlantic air routes.
I also sent a long, confidential wireless message to my assistant, Muir Lockhart, in London.
Finally, I prepared a condensed report for the Home Secretary.
It was after ten when I finished.
I walked slowly back to the Royal Hotel, exhausted both mentally and physically.
Only then did I realize what an extraordinary day it had been.
It was one of the most exciting and important days of my entire life.
Thumbwood was waiting for me in the hotel lobby.
He hurried me upstairs.
A warm bath mixed with ammonia was waiting.
Five minutes in the bath, a vigorous rubdown, a complete change into evening clothes, and then a cup of Bovril mixed with a spoonful of brandy and a pinch of celery salt.
Thumbwood called it my “bran mash.”
It worked.
I felt like a new man.
For the perfect valet, give me a man who has spent part of his life looking after racehorses.
Then I went downstairs to meet Captain Pring.
The moment I entered the public rooms of the hotel, I knew the news had escaped.
Groups of people stood around talking in low, excited voices.
There was an unmistakable buzz throughout the hotel.
That was only natural, especially in England’s principal airport.
The evening newspapers had also brought out special editions.
I bought one and read it.
They had made as much as possible out of very little information.
The full truth had not leaked out, but there was still enough for a major sensation.
People recognized me and pointed me out.
One naval captain even tried to question me.
He soon discovered that I had nothing to tell him.
When Captain Pring entered the lounge, some fool began cheering.
Within seconds there was a complete disturbance.
The newspapers would later call it “a scene.”
Pring and I had supper alone in a private room.
We talked for a long time.
During that conversation, I learned many things.
I’m not going to reveal the details yet.
The conversation was extremely important.
Its proper place will come later in this story.
Captain Pring left at midnight.
I went to bed.
Thumbwood slept in the dressing room next to my bedroom.
I had arranged for a telephone beside his bed to remain connected to the A.P. Station throughout the night.
If any message came through, he was to take it.
If it was important, he was to wake me immediately.
I want to finish this first part of the story in as few words as possible.
Even now, I hate writing about what happened next.
I was suddenly awakened.
My room was blazing with light.
I later learned that it was exactly 2:30 in the morning.
Thumbwood was standing beside my bed.
“Sir John,” he said hoarsely.
“There’s a signal.”
One look at his face told me everything.
I clenched my teeth.
“Bad news?”
“Terrible news, Sir John.”
“Go on.”
“The Atlantis has been attacked two hundred miles west of Cork.”
“Captain Swainson and four other men have been shot dead.”
“Patrol Boat No. 1 has been disabled.”
“Commander Lashmar and most of his crew are dead.”
“Two survivors managed to repair the wireless and get the message through.”
I swallowed twice.
My mouth was completely dry.
Thumbwood already knew the question I was going to ask.
“The young lady, Sir John, and her maid…”
“Dead too?”
“No, Sir John.”
“They were taken from the other passengers.”
“They were put aboard the pirate ship.”
“Then the pirate ship flew away with them.”