CHAPTER VIII.
THE DUTCH TRAWLER.
FOR the next five weeks workmen were toiling day and night upon the"Saraband," from the moment she arrived at Portsmouth Dockyard.
A clean sweep was made of her sumptuous cabin fittings. The whiteenamelled woodwork of the promenade and boat-decks was ruthlessly"scrapped." Over the engine and boiler-rooms a protective steel deckwas built, while light armour, sufficient to stop any hostile shellfrom the light guns of the German commerce destroyers, was placed inposition round the water-line, and also in other important andotherwise vulnerable parts of the ship.
In addition to the two 4.7-in. guns already carried four more of thesame calibre were provided, two on the fo'c'sle and two amidships,while on the promenade-deck four twelve-pounders were mounted behindarmoured shields. Finally the ship from truck to water-line waspainted a neutral grey; her name was changed, and under the WhiteEnsign appeared in the Navy List as H.M. Armed Merchant Cruiser"Strongbow."
During that six weeks Sub-Lieutenant Terence Aubyn, R.N.R., had beenfar from idle. In company with the rest of the ship's deck officershe had been sent to Whale Island, the Naval Gunnery School, toundergo a rapid though none the less thorough preliminary course ofgunnery. Aubyn simply revelled in the work. Gunlaying, positionfinding, gunnery control, both in theory and practice, kept him hardat it, and when the examination took place he came off with flyingcolours, somewhat to the astonishment and great satisfaction of theauthorities, who had hitherto regarded the R. N. R. officers in arather tolerant spirit.
Just before the date fixed for commissioning H.M.S. "Strongbow"Terence was accorded weekend leave--from three o'clock on Friday tonine a.m. on Monday. Needless to say he employed the time by paying avisit to his home.
Mrs. Aubyn lived in a picturesque little house on the East Coast,between Caistor and Yarmouth, standing within fifty yards of the lowcliffs. The house had been designed by Captain Aubyn, who did notlive long to enjoy his well-earned retirement. It was a low ramblingbuilding. Over the two end rooms was a flat roof, accessible by meansof a "hatchway." This was the worthy captain's "quarter-deck," onwhich was mounted on a tripod a powerful telescope. There was also aflagstaff set at a rake from the centre of the side wall. From thisstaff Captain Aubyn regularly hoisted the ensign at the regulationhour, hauling it down at sunset. This he did regularly until a fewdays before his death. In one of the rooms under the flat roof was asemicircular projection, pierced with several small windows thatcommanded an extensive marine view. This room the captain was wont todub the "casemate."
People in the neighbourhood were apt to regard the house as theoutput of a somewhat eccentric mind; but it was rather the result ofa life-long career in various ships of the Royal Navy, and so strongwere the traits of the service that Captain Aubyn introduced them asfar as possible into his private life. Whenever his friends ralliedhim up on the subject of "Aubyn's Battery" the captain smiledcomplacently. The reference pleased him far more than hisacquaintances were aware.
Terence Aubyn's irregular and hasty visits were always a source ofdeep pleasure to his mother. In his breezy way the lad would take hisparent by storm, converting her usually quiet existence into a briefround of excitement.
It was after eleven o'clock at night when the sub. reached Yarmouth.He had previously wired to the effect that he would be home, asquickly as the unpunctual train service would permit.
Once clear of the town Terence set off at a steady swinging pacealong the Denes. Several times he was challenged by patrols,incidents that served to remind him that war was close at home. Hevaguely wondered whether such precautions were necessary, with theGrand Fleet holding the North Sea and keeping every German warshipskulking in harbour. It seemed so unreal, even with vast armiesfighting on the Continent, and the sound of their guns almost withinhearing distance of Dover, that the peaceful Norfolk coast shouldhave to be protected against possible raids.
At length Aubyn reached the commencement of the cliff path. It was astarry night, sufficiently light to enable him to follow thewell-known track without risk of blundering over the edge of theminiature precipice on to the sands twenty feet below.
After a mile or so the path skirted a slight indentation of thecliff. As Terence passed this spot he saw a light flash at the bottomof the hollow. Then the gleam vanished.
In the starlight Terence could discern the figure of a man. In spiteof the chilliness of the night air he wore no overcoat. He wasstanding motionless, with his back towards the sub.
"The fellow's dropped something," soliloquised Aubyn. "I'll go andbear a hand."
The sand muffled his footsteps till he was within ten yards of thestranger. Hearing the sound the man faced about and flashed anelectric torch upon the ground.
"Lost something, sir?" asked Terence affably. "Can I help you?"
"My pipe," returned the other. "It must have fallen out of mypocket."
The voice seemed strangely familiar, yet the sub. could not call theowner to memory.
"You live about here, I presume?" asked Aubyn. "I think I recognizeyour voice----"
The next moment he uttered an involuntary cry of pain and clasped hishand to his eyes. The stranger had suddenly thrown a handful of someburning substance straight into the young officer's face.
For some moments Terence stood still, with his hands up to his face.The pain was excruciating. He could do nothing, but he could hear thefootsteps of the rascal as he ran from the scene of his dastardlywork.
"The brute has thrown quicklime in my eyes," thought the sub. "I'llhave to find my way to the sea and try to save my sight. Goodheavens!"
Like a flash he now recognized the voice. It was that of the spy,Major Karl von Eckenhardt.
Gradually Aubyn made his way down the gently shelving sands, guidedby the murmurs of the waves breaking on shore. Before he had gonemany yards he gave vent to a prodigious sneeze, quickly followed byanother.
"That's luck indeed," muttered the young officer. "It isn't limeafter all; it's pepper."
Presently the involuntary flow of tears cleared the irritating grainsfrom his eyes, and though they still smarted terribly he was now ableto see. In addition a veil had been lifted from before his mentalvision: hitherto rather sceptical concerning the reports of Germanspies on the East Coast he was no longer in doubt on that score.
There was also another aspect to the situation. Perhaps vonEckenhardt had learnt the home address of the young officer who hadmaterially assisted in thwarting his designs upon the "Saraband."Motives of revenge may have brought the German hither, possibly tostrike a blow at Aubyn through his parent. Terence tried to dismissthe suggestion as absurd, but the presentiment grew upon him. Heresolved to get his mother to move into either Yarmouth or Norwich atthe first opportunity.
Thus reasoning Terence retraced his steps. He meant to inform thenearest patrol of what had occurred, and if the telegraph andtelephone could be pressed into immediate service the spy ought to beapprehended before morning.
"'Alt. Who goes there?"
"Friend!" replied Terence promptly.
"Rummy time of night to be taking a constitutional," commented thesentry, stepping from the shelter afforded by a clump of furze; thenrecognizing Aubyn's naval cap and great-coat--
"Beg pardon, sir," he said apologetically.
"Have you seen anyone else pass this way recently?" demanded Terence.
"No, sir; not during the last three-quarters of an hour. Is anythingwrong, sir?
"I stumbled across a fellow using a flash lamp."
"I wish I had, sir," declared the sentry, a smart young Territorial."Just my luck I didn't. If I had----" and he tapped the magazine ofhis rifle significantly.
All thoughts of making his way home had vanished from Aubyn's mind.The demands of duty completely eclipsed the call of home. He hastenedback to Yarmouth and reported the matter to the naval authorities.
Energetic steps were taken to capture the daring spy. Telegraph andtelephone were resorted to, verbal des
criptions being transmitted toall police stations in the vicinity, while orders were issued to theTerritorial troops guarding the railway stations to exerciseparticular vigilance in this direction.
It was also equally desirable to ascertain the vessel or vessels towhom von Eckenhardt was signalling, and a number of small craft wasdespatched to search Yarmouth Roads and an area bounded by imaginarylines drawn through the Would, Smith's Knoll, Cross Sands, and CortonLights.
By this time Aubyn had given up all idea of going home that night.Rather than disturb his parent by knocking at the door at anunearthly hour of the morning, he decided to crave the hospitality ofthe naval officers attached to the Yarmouth base.
"Hello, Aubyn, old chap! what brings you in these parts?" asked atall, broad-shouldered man in the uniform of a sub-lieutenant of theMotor Boat Reserve.
Terence looked keenly at his questioner. He was mystified, and theofficer keenly enjoyed his discomfiture.
"You have the advantage of me," said Aubyn.
"What. You don't remember Dick Waynsford? Come, come, that's baseingratitude."
"Well, old chap, if you will shave off that inelegant moustache ofyours--congratulations, old man."
Dick Waynsford was a yachtsman who on the outbreak of the war hadapplied for and had been given a commission in the newly formed MotorBoat Reserve. His intimate knowledge of the intricate harbours andcreeks of the Suffolk and Essex coasts, combined with a strong likingfor the sea, made him fully qualified for the post.
In Yarmouth Harbour were a dozen or so weatherly motor-boats, whoseduty it was to act as tenders for the fleet in the Roads, and toundertake patrolling work. At all hours and in almost every state ofthe weather these staunch little craft could be seen as they spedupon their various duties. Unthinking people regarded the Motor BoatReserve as a soft job--an opportunity to wear His Majesty's uniformand at the same time to be out of any possibility of danger. They hadyet to learn that the war was to be brought actually to the shores ofOld England, which they had hitherto considered impregnable. Then theslighted "harbour patrol" boats would have their chance.
"Have a run out with us, Aubyn?" suggested Waynsford. "We've justhad orders to look for a suspicious trawler--possibly the one towhich your friend the spy was signalling. Since you have partlyspoiled the game you may just as well see the end of it."
"Right-o," assented Terence. "Lead on."
Aubyn followed his friend to the quayside. Here, floating idly on thedark waters of the tidal river, were four motor-boats, each painted adark grey and distinguished by a number on the bows, their outlinesfeebly discernible by the feeble light of a partly shaded light onthe wharf.
"That's my packet--the 'Lonette,'" announced Waynsford, indicatingthe outermost of the tier. "Mind that ladder: it's horriblyslippery."
"Fine little craft," declared Terence enthusiastically, as he steppedinto the diminutive cockpit of the motor-boat.
"Yes, I'm lucky to get her. One of the swiftest of the whole crowd,and a ripping sea-boat. Cast off there!" he ordered, addressing thetwo deckhands, who with the engineer constituted the crew of the"Lonette."
Five minutes later the "Lonette" was gliding over the sullenundulations of the North Sea, shaping a course towards the N.E.Cockle buoy, marking the edge of a dangerous bank.
A cable's length astern followed the "Pixie," another armedmotor-boat detailed to act in consort with the craft underWaynsford's command. Neither vessel showed navigation lights, theirposition being determined by the phosphorescent swirl as they cutthrough the water. Overhead the stars shone dully, for a slight hazewas beginning to gather.
Suddenly a dark shape loomed up in the darkness--an object thatresolved itself into a large unwieldy lighter attended by a small tugwhich was lashed alongside.
"Shifting the buoys," explained Waynsford laconically.
"Shifting?" inquired Terence. "Surely you mean removing themaltogether."
"Not much," replied his companion. "We've had orders to shift thewhole lot two miles to the east'ard. Should any of these rottenGerman cruisers dare to come out--I don't fancy they will, worseluck--the altered position of these buoys will puzzle them a bit:unless your friend Eckenhardt has already signalled the fact to anenemy vessel."
Five minutes later the two patrol vessels ran across a number oftrawlers making their way to Yarmouth. These there was no need tostop and examine. Their bona-fides were above suspicion, especiallyas a long, lean destroyer was steaming slowly in their wake.
For the next two hours the "Lonette" and the "Pixie" cruised betweenthe Newarp and the Cross Sands without sighting a suspicious craft.It was now nearly dawn.
"Sleepy?" inquired Waynsford, as Aubyn stifled a yawn. "Have a caulkin the cabin: you'll find the cushions fairly comfortable, and theywere well aired this morning--yesterday morning, I mean."
"Thanks, I'll stick it," replied Terence. "It's been a fairly longday, but one must get used to it."
"Trawler, or some such craft on the starboard bow, sir," announcedone of the "Lonette's" crew. "She's showing no lights."
Waynsford immediately altered helm; the skipper of the"Pixie", quickly followed suit, and the two motor-boats slowed down,one on each quarter of the trawler, whose nets were out.
"Trawler, ahoy. What ship is that?" shouted Waynsford.
"Dis de 'Vanhuit' of Scheveningen, Hollander trawler," replied avoice in broken English. "We goot way outside dree mile limit,mynheer."
"Stand by with a rope, then," rejoined the skipper of the "Lonette.""We want to have a look at you."
Somewhat reluctantly the Dutchman threw a coil of rope, the end ofwhich the bowman of the "Lonette" deftly made fast to a bollard. The"Pixie" remained a boat's length or so off.
"May as well come, Aubyn," suggested Waynsford. "A little exercisewon't do you any harm." The two subs, followed by one of the crew,swarmed up the tarry side of the trawler and gained the deck.
The strange craft was of about forty tons displacement, with aconsiderable amount of sheer and ample beam. Steam was escapinggently through the steam-pipe, while a faint wreath of smoke driftedfrom her squat funnel.
"Why no lights?" inquired Waynsford.
"Accident, mynheer ver' bad accident," replied the Dutchmanapologetically. "See you here."
He led the way for'ard. On the fo'c'sle were two burly fishermenholding the remains of two lanterns.
"Forestay halliard him part," explained the master. "Lights, dey comedown wit a run an' broke to pieces.
"Then the sooner you send another pair of lamps aloft the better,"remarked Waynsford. "Now let's have a look round below."
The Dutch skipper led the way. Aubyn lingered on the fo'c'sle. Hisquick eye detected something that his comrade had overlooked. Thelanterns had obviously pitched on the deck, but there were no signsof oil being spilled.
At the head of the little companion ladder Waynsford paused to see ifAubyn were following. The Dutchman had already disappeared.
"Where's Mr. Aubyn?" asked the skipper of the "Lonette," addressinghis deck-hand.
"For'ard, sir," replied that worthy. "I can just make him out in thedark."
"Coming below, Aubyn?" asked Waynsford, raising his voice.
"Hold hard, I want to get something out of 'Lonette's' cabin,"replied Terence.
Curiosity prompted Waynsford to delay his visit below. Going for'ardhe met Aubyn, who was making his way aft.
"There's something queer about this craft," remarked Terencehurriedly. "I'm going to smuggle myself on board, if you don't findanything sufficiently suspicious to justify her detention. So if youdon't see me when you come on deck again, don't wait, but push off,and come back for me in a couple of hours' time. If you can get intouch with a destroyer, so much the better."
"Right-o," assented Waynsford. He was perfectly willing to allowTerence to put his plan into execution, but at the same time, hissuspicions aroused, he meant to do his level best to find sufficientevidence to place the Dutch trawler under arrest. Extreme caution wasne
cessary, since he had been specially warned not to commit anythingthat could be construed by a neutral state into an unfriendly act.
Without another word Waynsford descended to the cabin. With roughcourtesy the Dutch skipper produced his papers, at the same timeoffering the boarding-officer a glass of schnapps--an invitation thatwas firmly yet kindly declined.
"Your papers are quite in order," announced the sub. "Perhaps youhave no objection to my looking round?"
"I no objec'," declared the Dutch skipper.
Although his suspicions were aroused Sub-Lieutenant Waynsford had nofear of treachery. One of his men had accompanied him below, while inthe interval a deck-hand from the "Pixie" had scrambled up the sideand was pacing the "Vanhuit's" planks. The engine-room, fo'c'sle,fish-holds, and storerooms were each in turn visited, but there wasapparently nothing to give rise to any question that the vessel wasanything but a harmless trawler.
At length Waynsford made his way on deck. The two fishermen on thefo'c'sle were still devoting their attention to the damaged lamps.Another was leaning over the low bulwark and engaging in conversationin a queer sort of English with the crew of the "Pixie."
"Thanks, mynheer," said Waynsford. "I'll wish you good-night. Sorryto have caused you any inconvenience.
"Der vas no drouble at all," rejoined the Dutchman. "Goot-night toyou."
The sub descended the side and gained the cockpit of the "Lonette."The rope was cast off and the motor-boat slipped astern. Not one worddid Waynsford say until the little craft was out of hearing distance,then--
"Where's Mr. Aubyn? he asked.
"Aboard yonder packet, sir," replied the member of the crew who hadbeen left in charge of the motorboat. "He asked me to drop a fewfeet astern and then he slipped up over the Dutchman's quarter. ShallI give a hail, sir?"
"No," replied Waynsford. "Easy ahead."