‘Answer,’ whispered Rossanna.
‘I am willing,’ said Cribb.
‘Approach the President, then,’ ordered another voice. It belonged to Carse.
Rossanna piloted him in that direction.
‘My friend,’ said Carse, without a trace of affection, ‘by your own voluntary act you are now before us. You have learned the nature of the cause in which we are engaged-a cause honourable to our manhood, and imposed upon us by every consideration of duty and patriotism. We would not have an unwilling member among us, and we give you, even now, the opportunity of withdrawing, if you so desire.’
Cribb thought it politic to shake his head at the suggestion.
Carse went on, ‘Everyone here has taken a solemn and binding oath to be faithful to the trust we repose in him. This oath, I assure you, is one which does not conflict with any duty you owe to God, to your country, your neighbours, or yourself. It must be taken before you can be admitted to light and fellowship in our Order. With this assurance, will you submit yourself to our rules and regulations and take our obligation without mental reservation?’
‘I will,’ said Cribb. With an assurance like that, a man could promise anything.
‘Place your right hand on this flag of free Ireland, then, and say after me. .’
Cribb repeated the oath phrase by phrase, ‘I, Michael Sargent, do solemnly and sincerely swear, in the presence of Almighty God, that I will labour, while life is left me’-(an inauspicious phrase, he thought) ‘-to establish and defend a republican form of government in Ireland. That I will never reveal the secrets of this organisation to any person or persons not entitled to know them. That I will obey and comply with the Constitution and laws of the United Brotherhood, and promptly and faithfully execute all constitutional orders coming to me from the proper authority, to the best of my ability. That I will foster a spirit of unity, nationality and brotherly love among the people of Ireland.
‘I furthermore swear that I do not now belong to any other Irish revolutionary society antagonistic to this organisation, and that I will not become a member of such society while connected with the Brotherhood, and, finally, I swear that I take this obligation without mental reservation, and that any violation hereof is infamous and merits the severest punishment. So help me God.’
Two loud raps followed.
‘Brothers and sister!’ said Millar’s voice. ‘It affords me great pleasure to introduce you to our new brother.’
Another rap.
‘Now take off your blindfold, Sargent, and let us get down to the serious business of the meeting,’ said Carse.
CHAPTER 12
Cribb blinked, accustoming his eyes to the gaslight. As he had estimated, the meeting was taking place in the drawing room. His newly acquired sister and brothers were ranged round him in a circle of high-backed chairs which included McGee’s invalid-chair. Carse, the senior man present, wore a chain of office with a silver pendant in the shape of a shield. On it was engraved a harp, two sides of which formed the arched body and wing of an angel.
‘Sit down, tenderfoot. We’ve finished with you,’ Carse told him brusquely.
He found a place between Devlin and Rossanna.
‘Now, Sister,’ Carse continued, with a thin smile directed to Cribb’s right. ‘We shall be obliged if you will deliver your father’s report on the work in hand.’
A familiar perfume was wafted Cribb’s way as Rossanna stirred in her chair. A small pulse at the base of her neck was throbbing visibly. Cribb had the strong intimation that she regarded Carse and Millar as potential enemies. ‘Well, gentlemen, the good news is that everything is ready. We have all been witnesses this evening to the devastation wreaked by Brother Sargent’s machine. An explosive device of identical construction, clock-timed and watertight, is waiting to be put into use. It requires only to be activated.’
Carse nodded. ‘That’s all in order then. But what about the Holland project? The bomb’s no use if that’s not finished. You’ve had a year to put it together and God knows how many dollars to pay for it. Is it ready as your father promised?’
‘Might I suggest that you come and see for yourselves?’ said Rossanna. ‘If it is possible for the meeting to adjourn for a few minutes, I have hurricane lamps ready and we can walk down to the workshop and ascertain whether the Clan’s dollars have been wisely invested.’
‘Very well,’ said Carse. ‘Collect your hats, Brothers.’
Outside, the moon was obscured by a bank of cloud, so the lamps were necessary at once. Devlin led, the others filing after him in silence, impressed, it seemed, with the solemnity of the occasion. With the addition of a couple of spades, Cribb reflected, they could have passed for an exhumation-party.
They stopped at the door of the large building where Devlin’s team had been employed. Devlin produced a ring of keys and unfastened two locks. The door opened inwards and they passed inside.
Cribb first noticed a strong smell of tar. Then he was compelled to turn his shoulders and move sideways along the inner side of the building. The farther he penetrated, the narrower the passage became. The building accommodated an object of such proportions that it was impossible in that confined area to estimate its shape. All he could tell in the uncertain light was that the section nearest him was curved and made of riveted metal plates coated with tar. It rose above the height of his bowler.
‘Climb the step-ladder ahead of you, Mr Sargent, and you will get a better view,’ Rossanna’s voice advised him.
He found a ladder roped to part of the wooden framework that flanked the object. He climbed it and joined Devlin and Carse on a small platform, two planks in width. Devlin hooked his lamp on to one of the cross-beams above them, and Millar, who had appeared on a similar platform on the opposite side, did the same, so producing the best illumination possible in the circumstances. The shadow of Rossanna, climbing the ladder on Millar’s side, danced to the swinging of the lamps.
Cribb still had difficulty in recognising the object. Its main section was in the shape of a cigar about thirty feet long, and there was a low turret-shaped superstructure in the centre.
‘There, gentlemen,’ said Rossanna, ‘you see the culmination of a year’s work.’
‘Nine years,’ Carse corrected her. ‘This was begun with John Holland’s work in New Jersey.’
‘Who is John Holland?’ Cribb enquired, hopeful that the answer might explain the purpose of the metal cigar.
‘Holland?’ said Devlin, in a tone suggesting that the question should not have been asked. ‘He is the fellow who has made the submarine boat a practical reality. An Irishman, born in County Clare, and a Fenian, thank God. He built his first with Fenian money as long ago as 1875, three years after he arrived in the States. The man has thought of nothing else but designing submarine boats since he was a boy in Liscannor. This is an improved version of the Holland III, known as the
‘It had better be improved,’ said Carse. ‘Sixty thousand dollars of the Skirmishing Fund went into the first three boats, for nothing more sensational than a few excursions up the Passaic River.’
‘She has undergone two months of trials in the Estuary,’ said Devlin. ‘She is ready for whatever action is required of her. Would you care to see inside? There is a hinged lid, you see-’
‘That can wait,’ said Carse quickly. ‘How is she powered? With an oil engine, like the
‘Oh, no,’ said Devlin. ‘This vessel is electrically driven. She has two Edison-Hopkinson motors capable of developing up to forty-five horse-powers. Each one is powered by an Elwell-Parker battery with fifty-two accumulators. They produce a tension of 104 volts.’
‘It sounds capital,’ said Millar from the other side, ‘but as a man without much knowledge of electricity it doesn’t mean a damned thing to me, Brother. What’s her top speed below the surface, and how long can she stay under?’
