"SHEER off!" shouted Captain Cain, leaning over the bridge-rails and directing the full blast of his powerful voice upon the still unknown craft alongside. "Stand clear; we're going full ahead in half a shake."
"Hang on a minute, Cap'n!" replied Broadmayne. "There are only two of us—survivors of the yachtIbex, burnt late last night. If you won't take us on board you might give us some grub and water. We're famished and horribly cold, you know."
Captain Cain made a brief mental review of the situation, as far as he knew of the facts. He was not a soft-hearted man—far from it. There would be very little risk to the occupants of the boat if they remained adrift for a few hours longer. They were bound to be picked up by some of the up- and down-Channel traffic. He could provide them with a few provisions and then go ahead.
On the other hand, he was quite in the dark as to what the two men in the boat had seen or heard. It was much too early for theAlerteto reveal her true character, that of a submarine pirate craft. And it was very disconcerting when he, the captain,was congratulating himself that, theAlertehad been armed and had gone through additional diving tests under cover of darkness, to find a boat lying alongside with two persons in her who might be remarkably cute in spotting anything out of the ordinary at sea.
The simplest solution was to drop a pig of ballast through the bottom of the boat and leave the two men to their fate. They couldn't keep afloat very long in the open Channel in November. On their own admission, they were cold and famished. They'd sink within five minutes.
But the suggestion was dismissed as quickly as it had been formed. Captain Cain was strongly opposed to taking life wantonly, whether it be man or beast. If occasion arose with sufficient justification for his point of view, the pirate captain would shoot down any one in cold blood or otherwise. Again, he had pledged himself to his crew, and for the present it was policy to abide by his plighted word, that he was against performing any violent act against the crews of British ships, and were not these two men British survivors of a disaster?
And, judging by the tone of the man who had spoken, one of the survivors was some one of good, possibly high birth. In any case, the pair might prove useful additional hands to theAlerte'scomplement. If they wouldn't, well he'd make them. There was also the chance that the distressed mariners might be people of social standing and wealth. Then there would be a good opportunity to demand ransom. Coming on top ofthe Chamfer incident, Captain Cain decided such a possibility seemed no probability. He would be lucky, indeed, if he could repeat his previous success in that direction.
All this flashed through the ready brain of the pirate captain in a very few seconds. Quickly he made up his mind.
"Come aboard!" he said briefly.
One of the hands caught the dinghy's painter. A rope ladder was lowered down the perpendicular side of theAlerte, and with a final effort to control their cramped limbs, Vyse and Broadmayne contrived to reach the deck of the pirate submarine.
"Take them below!" ordered Captain Cain from the height of the bridge. "Tell Davis to serve them with a good hot meal. They can berth for'ard."
With his head swimming and his knees giving way under him, Rollo Vyse was glad to have the assistance of a couple of the crew to take him below. Broadmayne, although feeling decidedly groggy, still retained sufficient alertness of mind to take stock of his immediate surroundings as far as the first streaks of red dawn permitted.
The steel deck littered with kelp and seaweed was in itself suspicious, unless the vessel were a trawler and had just emptied her nets on deck. But there was not the peculiar smell that steam trawlers cannot get away from.
Directly the Sub found himself below, he knew.
"By Jove!" he soliloquised. "She's a sub marine."
In spite of his hunger and fatigue, Broadmaynepuzzled his brains over the strange situation. What was a submarine, disguised as a surface ship, doing in the Channel? Her officers and crew were not in naval uniform, although several of them had unmistakable indications of having served under the white ensign. The owner, especially, had the cut of apukkanaval man.
"Perhaps she's a new type of Q-ship," he thought. "If the manoeuvres were on, I could understand it. Won't it be a joke if she is a mystery ship; and won't the owner feel a bit sick when he finds he's harbouring an inquisitive Sub on board his hooker? Like his confounded cheek, though, making us mess and berth for'ard."
Soon the two chums were sitting down to a hot, substantial meal. They were not alone. The crew's quarters in which they were sheltering was occupied by the best part of the watch below, about a dozen rather smart and alert men, older than the usual run of naval ratings. The Sub noticed that, without exception, they looked a bit tired and fatigued, consequently he was not surprised to find that his attempts to broach a conversation were resolutely, yet politely, rebuffed. Foiled in that direction, Broadmayne tried to pick up the threads of the scanty scraps of conversation. Again he was foiled. Every sentence he overheard had no bearing upon life on board. "Shop" in the crew's quarter seemed to be taboo.
He glanced at Vyse. Rollo, having made a good meal, was leaning back on the settee with his eyes closed. The problem offered no difficultiesto the owner of the burnt-outIbex, for the simple reason that he was comfortably dozing.
The Sub looked at the clock in the bulkhead. It was a quarter-past eight. Although it was day, no natural light penetrated the interior of the hull. The submarine was running on the surface. The pulsation of the internal combustion engines proved that.
A man clad in blue cloth trousers, sweater and sea-boots entered the compartment and began to remove the empty plates.
"Had a good tuck in, chum?" he inquired. "All right—best turn in for a spell. There's your bunks, blankets and all. Captain won't want to see you afore three bells in the second dog."
"Thank you," replied Broadmayne. He, too, was feeling drowsy. Perhaps it was the heat of the confined space. He touched Vyse on the shoulder.
"Turn in, old man!" he exclaimed.
"What for?" demanded his chum rebelliously; then his desire to sleep dominated all other inclinations. Merely kicking off his rubber-boots, Vyse turned in all standing. The Sub followed his example, and a couple of minutes later both men were lost in heavy, dreamless slumber.
Meanwhile Captain Cain, whose almost unbounded energy could keep him going at high pressure for thirty-six hours without any desire for sleep, was standing on the bridge of theAlerteas she stood southward at eight knots.
He was at the wheel. With the exception of one mechanic standing by the Diesel motors, all hands were enjoying a few hours' well-earned rest. Shortly after the crew of theIbexhad been taken on board, a wireless message had been picked up that gave Captain Cain an inspiration upon which he determined to act.
The wireless message was from the Norddeutscher-Lloyd intermediate boatCap Hoorn, to the Ushant signalling-station, reporting that she was ninety miles W. by S. of Ushant, homeward bound from Bremen.
Already the pirate captain had "looked her up" in the shipping register. He found that theCap Hoornwas a vessel of 8500 tons, with a speed of fifteen knots. Coming from Buenos Ayres and Rio, she would be certain to have a valuable cargo. It was a risky business to hold her up, but Captain Cain, having weighed the pros and cons, decided to intercept her.
At noon theAlerte'screw were roused. Preparations were immediately started to disguise the ship. The funnel was given a different coloured coat of paint; the masts, previously light brown with black above the hounds, were painted a uniform shade of dark grey. The bridge and funnel were bodily shifted twenty feet aft, and the position of the ventilating cowls altered. Finally, on both bows and astern the nameAlertewas covered by strips of painted cloth bearing the nameCimeterre, and the French tricolour hoisted aft.
"I'm going to put the breeze up a Hun, my lads," he announced. "She's now on her way up-Channel.She's a lump of a boat, but we'll get her. Remember that for this occasion you're Frenchmen. When we board her, keep your mouths shut and let Mr. Pengelly grease his jaw-tackle. He can speak French like a native and German quite enough to make himself understood. I'm not going to hurt Fritz more than I can help. It depends upon himself. If she heaves to, as I expect she'll do, Mr. Pengelly will take half a dozen hands, all armed, and see what's of use to us——"
"Sail on the starboard beam, sir!" shouted the look-out man. "Black hull, white top-hamper, two funnels all yellow."
"That's our pigeon," declared Pengelly; then noticing his partner glare, he hastened to add the previously omitted "sir."
"Very good, Mr. Pengelly," sang out the captain. "Tell off your boat's crew in readiness. Fall in, Q. F. numbers; signalman, stand by and hoist the I. D."
TheAlerteand theCap Hoornwere approaching almost at right angles to each other's course. As the positions of the ships went, theAlertewould bring the German's port side on her starboard bow, in which case, under the "Rules and Regulations for Preventing Collisions at Sea," the former had to give way.
Nearer and nearer came the huge Norddeutscher-Lloyd vessel, showing the "bone in her jaw" as she flung out a tremendous bow-wave. Unswervingly, both vessels held on. TheCap Hoornblew a warning blast on her syren.
"Hard-a-starboard!" ordered Captain Cain, atthe same time motioning the alert signalman.Round swept theAlerte, until she was on a parallel course to that of her victim. The screens concealing the quick-firer were lowered and the muzzle of the weapon swung round. Simultaneously the signal I. D. (Heave-to, or I will fire into you) was hoisted; followed, without waiting for theCap Hoorn'sreply, by LDA—ZMX (Disconnect your wireless apparatus).
The two vessels were now roughly four hundred yards apart. Through his binoculars, Captain Cain observed with considerable satisfaction that the German officers and men were in a state of panic, while the passengers, guessing that something was amiss but ignorant of the true state of affairs, crowded to the side.
The pirate captain rang for full speed ahead. Almost immediately, the pulsations of the motors increased, and theAlertequickly attained her maximum speed, equal to that of theCap Hoorn.
Still the latter showed no sign of stopping her engines. From her bridge a three flag hoist went up.
"WCX, sir!" reported theAlerte'ssignalman, as he rapidly turned over the pages of the Code Book, adding as he discovered the message, "Signals not understood, though flags are distinguished."
"More bluff!" ejaculated Captain Cain. "I'll send 'em a message that won't bear misunderstanding. Captain of the gun!" he continued, raising his voice. "Give her one above the waterline. Knock her rudder-head to smithereens."
The quick-firer spat viciously. Considering the gun-layer had had no previous experience with that particular type of weapon, the result was highly creditable to his professional skill.
The projectile struck theCap Hoornabout ten feet for'ard of the rudder and about four feet above the waterline. It made a clean hole where it entered, but of the devastating effect of the explosive shell there was little doubt. Splinters and slivers of metal flew high in the air. Flames and smoke poured from a jagged hole in the poop. The red, white and black ensign, its staff shattered by the explosion, was whisked fifty yards astern.
Twenty seconds later theCap Hoorn'spropellers were going astern; but owing to the rudder-head being pulverised, the massive rudder swung hard over to starboard. Slowly her head began to pay off towards her antagonist. Men armed with fire extinguishers and hoses were seen running aft. With indecorous haste another German mercantile ensign was hoisted and as promptly lowered in token of surrender.
"Look alive, Mr. Pengelly!" exclaimed the pirate captain. "You know your orders?"
"Ay, ay, sir," was the reply.
A boat was lowered. Into it went Pengelly and half a dozen men, all armed with automatic pistols. By this time Captain Cain had got way off his ship, the two vessels being now about a cable's length apart.
The boat's crew gave way with a will, their comrades, with the exception of the men at thequick-firer, crowding to the side to watch their progress.
"Mr. Barnard!" shouted Captain Cain.
The bo's'un doubled aft and saluted.
"What's that man doing on deck?" inquired the skipper angrily, pointing to Gerald Broadmayne, who, unobserved by the hands on deck, had come up from below and was watching the unusual sight.
"Dunno, sir," replied Mr. Barnard helplessly. "Both of 'em were sound asleep when last I looked in."
As a matter of fact, the bo'sun, in the excitement of the one-sided enjoyment, had completely forgotten about the presence of the two strangers on board. He had omitted to lock the door between the men's quarters and the vestibule immediately underneath the base of the conning-tower.
"All right, let him alone," decided Captain Cain, as he reflected grimly that now the cat was out of the bag, his involuntary guests would have to remain on board at all costs, until the termination of the cruise, wherever and whenever it might be.
"So that's the game, is it?" thought the Sub. His searching eyes quickly took in the evidence of the incriminating surroundings—the quick-firer trained abeam, with a still smoking shell-case lying close to the mounting; the French ensign floating over a vessel whose crew were British and, for the most part, West-country folk; the men all armed with automatic pistols; least and notlast a boarding party on their way to the disabled German liner. "Piracy—out and out piracy."
Like those of theAlerte'screw who remained on board, Broadmayne found his interest centre on the boat containing Pengelly and his armed companions.
Before the boat had ranged up alongside theCap Hoorn, the German crew had lowered the accommodation-ladder.
Headed by Pengelly, the boarders ran up the ladder. At the gangway they were met by the captain and several of the officers of the captured vessel; while gathered at a respectful distance were about thirty of the crew and those of the passengers whose curiosity had overcome their timidity.
There was no sign of resistance. Pengelly, escorted by the German captain, disappeared from view, three of his men following him. The others, with the exception of the boat-keeper, drove the passengers and crew for'ard like a flock of sheep.
"No guts!" soliloquised Broadmayne scornfully. "Can you imagine a British ship with that sized crew chucking up the sponge? They'd rush the blighters even if they only had broomsticks."
Presently one of theAlerte'sboarders at the head of the accommodation-ladder held up a small white flag. It was a pre-arranged signal. As long as it remained held aloft, it indicated that the looters were having things all their own way. Should the Germans turn upon their captors, thewhite flag would be dropped. Then, and only then, would theAlerte'squick-firer pump shell after shell into the huge target presented by the motionlessCap Hoorn.
Twice there came the dull report of an explosion. The crew of the quick-firer tautened, the captain of the gun looking inquiringly at the imperturbable figure on theAlerte'sbridge. But Captain Cain gave no sign. The white hand-flag was still conspicuously displayed at the gangway of the prize. Occasionally he swept the horizon with his binoculars, ready at the first sign of an approaching craft to recall his merry men and seek safety in flight.
An hour and ten minutes after the boat had pushed off from theAlerte, Pengelly descended theCap Hoorn'saccommodation-ladder. The boat, heavily laden, headed back to her degenerate parent and was hoisted up in davits.
"Well?" inquired Captain Cain laconically.
"Skinned 'em, sir," replied Pengelly, with a broad grin.
AGAIN theAlertehoisted a signal. It was to give theCap Hoornpermission to proceed.
Steering like a dray, since the destruction of the rudder-head had left her with only her twin screws to manoeuvre with, the German liner forged ahead, turned eight degrees to starboard and shaped a course for the invisible French coast.
TheAlerte, without waiting for her prey to disappear from sight, worked up to a speed of eight knots, steering in a northerly direction, or towards the shores of England.
"What happened?" asked Captain Cain.
"Went through the ship's papers," replied the lieutenant. "Found that she's eighteen million marks of specie in her strong-room. Blighters swore they hadn't a key—trust Fritz for bluffing or attempting to bluff. So we had to blow off the lock. Then we had a round-up of the first-class passengers. By smoke! They shelled out like lambs. The proceeds are in that sack"—pointing to a well-filled canvas bag lying against the base of the conning-tower. "It was poor sport relieving a white-livered crowd like that.And the joke of the whole business is that the German skipper thought we were Frenchmen. I told him that war had been declared between France and Germany, and that he was to proceed straight for Cherbourg. Warned him that if he attempted to run for it, or to use his wireless, there'd be considerable trouble. I'd like to see what happens when theCap Hoorngives herself up to the naval authorities at Cherbourg."
"Unfortunately—or, perhaps, fortunately—we cannot be present," rejoined Captain Cain; then addressing the quartermaster, he ordered the ship to turn fifteen points to port, or nearly in a reverse direction to the course she had been following.
"Why?" inquired Pengelly. "There'll be half a dozen French torpedo craft on our track. Wouldn't it be wiser to make ourselves scarce?"
"I am keeping the rendezvous in the Chenal du Four," replied the captain. Being in a high good humour, he could afford to be affable to his querulous subordinate. "The news will be wirelessed everywhere within the next few hours that theCap Hoornwas stopped and plundered by an unknown vessel masquerading as a French government auxiliary craft, which, when last sighted, was steering to the nor'ard. Consequently, every one responsible for hunting us will reason much as you did—that we're off either to the English or Irish coasts. They won't dream of looking for us in the neighbourhood of Ushant.L'audace, Pengelly,toujours l'audace: that's the winning card. All right; carry on. Set the hands to work to remove our disguise. For thenext day or so, theAlertewill be theAlerte. I'll interview those fellows we picked up this morning. Tell Marchant to bring one of them to my cabin. I won't see them together."
Captain Cain was on the point of descending the bridge-ladder, when he stopped and exclaimed in a voice loud enough for the watch on deck to hear:
"We'll make a partial division of the coin at one-bell, Mr. Pengelly. Pass the word to the hands."
Going below to his cabin, the skipper began to make preparations to receive his involuntary guests. They had come aboard of their own free will, it was true, but already they had discovered that getting away from theAlertewas quite a different matter.
Presently the gunner knocked at the door.
"Mr. Broadmayne, sir," he reported.
"Take that chair, Mr. Broadmayne," said Captain Cain.
The Sub did so. Although giving away the slight advantage he possessed in height, he realised that it was decidedly uncomfortable having to be interviewed with his shoulders bent to prevent his head touching the sweating steel roof of the little cabin.
"I suppose," resumed the pirate, with a slight tone of irony, "that you are already acquainted with the nature of the craft that has given you shelter?"
"I'd be remarkably dense if I weren't," replied Broadmayne.
"And what, might I ask, is the result of your investigations?" inquired Captain Cain suavely.
"To put it bluntly," rejoined the Sub, "you're a filibuster—a pirate."
"That's putting the case rather strong," protested Captain Cain. "The vessel we intercepted was a Hun. I was fighting Germans in the high seas when you were a child in arms, I imagine. I saw enough to make me vow I'd go bald-headed for one whenever I had a chance. That chance I took to-day."
"I won't question your motives," remarked Broadmayne imperturbably. "But I take it you have no Admiralty warrant to act as a privateer in peacetime? Then, as I said before, you must be a pirate. Rather interesting, what? I was under the impression that gentlemen of that type were as extinct as the dodo."
"Who and what are you, Mr. Broadmayne?" demanded Captain Cain.
"Sub-lieutenant, Royal Navy."
"You are—or were?"
"Am," declared Broadmayne, with a tone that indicated he was proud of his profession.
A look of disappointment flitted across the face of the pirate captain.
"Then what were you doing on a private yacht?"
The Sub told him.
"Vyse, did you say?" interrupted Captain Cain. "Vyse? Any relation to the north-country magnate of that name?"
"Son," replied Broadmayne. The next instant he felt angry with himself for having divulged that part.
"Really!" exclaimed the other. "That's most interesting. Well, Mr. Broadmayne, I'm afraid I must ask you and your friend to remain on board for the remainder of the cruise. It won't be a protracted one, I assure you. You can have the run of the ship, except at such times when it will be necessary to order you below. Of course, considering we have saved your lives—your dinghy would have been swamped when the sea rose an hour after you were rescued—and that we have to feed you, a monetary payment is expected. But there is one alternative. I don't suppose you'll accept it first going off. That is, if you both care to join us in our enterprise—remember, we are not molesting a single British subject—then you will be entitled to a fair share of the proceeds, which I can assure you are far from being inconsiderable." Broadmayne made no reply. He was puzzling his brains, but not on account of the pirate's seductive proposition. He had seen the man somewhere, but where? Suddenly he remembered.
"I am more than surprised to find a former naval officer engaged on a stunt of this description," he remarked bluntly.
Captain Cain's features went a dusky red under his tan. The pulses of his temples were throbbing like steam-pistons.
"How do you know what I've been?" he inquired harshly. There was a dominant note in his voice. Most men would have quailed beforeit. The Sub showed no sign of trepidation. On the contrary, he felt considerably elated at having found a weak spot in his antagonist's armour.
"Some years ago," resumed Broadmayne, "I was one of a party of cadets who were taken round to Devonport from Dartmouth in a destroyer—theCalder, Lieutenant-Commander Sefton. It was one of the usual day instructional cruises, you know. On that occasion the cadets were shown over some of the submarines lying in the Hamoaze. There was a two-and-a-half striper who did the showing round. Some time later, he had to sever his connection with the Service—kicked out, in fact. No need to mention names."
Captain Cain controlled his rage with an effort.
"Quite correct," he rejoined. "However, Mr. Broadmayne, you will please remember that while you are on this craft you will keep that knowledge to yourself."
"I am not in the habit of trading on any one's past," replied the Sub. "But I have a strong objection to attempted intimidation. If circumstances warrant my making use of the information bearing on your former career, I'll do so. And, let me add, I consider your offer that we should throw in our lot with your piratical crowd an insult. My answer, if an answer be required, is NO!"
Without another word, Captain Cain touched the bell-push.
"I'll make this young puppy feel sorry for himself before I've done with him," he said to himself.
The gunner answered the summons.
"Take Mr. Broadmayne on deck," ordered the pirate captain, "and bring Mr. Vyse to me."
Presently Rollo Vyse appeared. He was sorry he had missed an opportunity of speaking to his chum, as he was entirely in the dark as to what had occurred.
To him Captain Cain made a similar proposition, which he "turned down" even more forcibly than the Sub had done.
"So that's your attitude, is it?" exclaimed the pirate, losing control of his temper. "Very well. Here are pens, ink and paper. You will write a letter to your wealthy parent, informing him that you are detained on board a certain ship and that you will be deprived of your liberty until the sum of one thousand pounds is paid to the person named therein. You will add that it is useless to set the police upon my agent. He knows nothing and is acting in all good faith. Now then, one thousand pounds in Bank of England notes, none of which is to exceed ten pounds."
Lighting a cigarette and picking up a book, Captain Cain feigned to have lost interest in his victim.
For some moments Rollo sat quietly thinking. "S'pose I'll have to humour the silly ass," he decided, and took up a pen.
For nearly twenty minutes Vyse was engaged upon the demand for ransom. He was not writing all the time. There were intervals when the rapid movement of the scratchy pen ceased, causing the pirate captain to glance inquiringly over his book.
"How will that do?" asked Rollo at last.
Captain Cain took the proffered paper and read:
"DEAR FATHER,—This is a request topayup. Broadmayne and I were rescued from theIbex, which was burnt at sea. There's no need to worry. We're given everyattentionand are comfortable. But the captain of the ship we're on is going to detain us till our expenses are paid.This, he states, is One thousand pounds. Sounds apreposteroussum, doesn't it? However, that is the extent of hisdemand, so I hope you'll settle and let us have our freedom. We're in for a rough time otherwise. The money is to be in five and ten pound notes, payable to the person named below.—Your affectionate Son,"ROLLO VYSE."
"Is that your usual signature?" asked Captain Cain.
"Certainly."
"Very good," continued the pirate, folding the sheet, putting it in an envelope and placing it carefully between the leaves of a blotter. "I'll see that it's forwarded to its proper destination. You may go."
Vyse went. In the alleyway he gave a grim chuckle. His letter had been carefully composed. Several of the words were underlined. To a casual observer the lines would appear to be the lavish crossing of the letter "t" in the line below. Captain Cain had not spotted it. The underlined words read: "Pay no attention to this preposterous demand." Rollo had no doubt that when his father received the letter, his shrewdness would quickly enable him to read the camouflaged message.
He found Broadmayne pacing the poop. For the present, none of the crew were aft. TheAlertehad resumed the features she possessed when she left Falmouth. No outside observer would have recognised her as the vessel that had stopped theCap Hoornearlier in the day.
"Gerald, old thing!" exclaimed Rollo, after a brief exchange of their experiences, "we've got to get clear of this craft. If we don't, before very long we stand a hundred to one chance of being sent to Davy Jones's locker. The skipper gave me the impression that he's a hard case. I believe he'd sink her with all hands rather than surrender."
"From what I know of him, he is a hard case," agreed the Sub. "But the question is, how can we part company with this vessel? I'd attempt it like a shot if there were a ghost of a chance. The hands seem to be up to their job. They'll keep a keen eye on us, I fancy. Our only hope, I think, is to enlist the sympathies of some of the men. We'll have to sound them carefully. No doubt we'll find that one or two are fed-up already, and would do almost anything to save their precious necks."
"You mean to say we might be able to bribe them?"
"Hardly," replied Broadmayne. "They seem to be coining money on this game. I believe there's a share-out coming off very soon. No, it won't be the lure of financial reward. We'll have to play on their feelings a bit."
The thrilling notes of the bo'sun's pipe broughtall hands to the waist. A partial division of the spoil was about to take place.
The crew fell in according to their respective watches. The gunner and the bo'sun were standing on either side of a small sack of gold coins placed upon an upturned cask. A short distance away stood Captain Cain, with Pengelly at his elbow with a book in his hand.
"My lads!" began the pirate captain, "we have now made a rough calculation of the value of the loot from the German hooker. Of course, when the stuff is disposed of ashore, it may be of considerable more value than we have estimated. On the other hand, it may be less. Roughly, the share for each man before the mast is one hundred and ten pounds for this day's work."
He paused. A rousing cheer greeted the announcement. Hitherto the crew had to be content with promises. Now the sight of the bulging sack indicated that they believed in the old adage, "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."
Captain Cain held up his hand. Instantly the boisterous cheering ceased.
"As your captain," he continued, "I naturally have your welfare at heart. Here is the money. I would point out the disadvantages of keeping such an amount on board. Some of you might: be tempted to risk the loss of their shares at cards. What you do in the fo'c'sle during your watch below is no affair of mine, but I should be sorry to learn that any man has had the ill-luck to lose his wealth—hard-earned or otherwise.Therefore, I would suggest that, should any one wish to place his share in a place of absolute safety, I will be responsible for its keeping. In other words, I am sending the booty back to England in theFairy. All money entrusted to me will be judiciously invested, and a receipt given for the same. On the other hand, any one who wishes to hold his share can do so.... Mr. Barnard, call the roll!"
The bo's'un began his task. As each man's name was called, he stepped forward to a chalk-line drawn on the deck. Here he stated what he wanted—either the actual coin or a receipt for the same. In the former case, Marchant, the gunner, counted out the coins and handed them to the man. In the latter, Pengelly wrote out a receipt.
About a dozen men took the cash. Of the remainder, a few allotted their share, receiving Pengelly's form of acknowledgment; the others compromised by drawing a few pounds on account and leaving the balance with the captain.
All this was done in full view of Broadmayne and Vyse. The captain knew they were looking on. Perhaps he hoped that the sight of so much money might make the two men under detention alter their minds about signing-on.
The muster was about to be dismissed, when one of the men stepped forward.
"Well?" inquired Captain Cain laconically.
"Us of the fo'c'sle wants to know what's to be our attitude to'ards those blokes we picked up, sir," said the man. "Seem' as 'ow they messesan' berths for'ard, 'ow are we to treat 'em? Are they with us as part of the crew, sir?"
"What are you driving at, Matthews?" asked the captain.
The man hesitated.
"'Tes like this, sir," he continued, after a pause. "If they ain't hands, then why are they berthed along o' we? If they are, it ain't fair on the rest of us that they don't take part in the routine of the ship—slackin' about while we are a-workin' 'ard."
It was then that Captain Cain made a serious mistake. Instead of "ticking the man off" for attempting to interfere with the captain's plans—a grave breach of discipline—he temporised with the delegate.
"The matter will receive my attention, Matthews," he replied.
"Very good, sir," rejoined the man.
He saluted, turned and went back to the others. His comrades saw what the pirate captain could not—a self-satisfied look upon the man's face at the thought that he had scored off the owner.
"Pipe down!" ordered Captain Cain.
A minute or so later, he beckoned to his captives. The Sub and his companion descended the poop ladder and approached the pirate skipper.
"I can't have idlers on board this craft," said Captain Cain abruptly. "From now you will form part of the starboard watch, and stand your tricks like the rest of the hands. Understand that?"
"Very good," replied the Sub coldly. "In thecircumstances, we have no option. We are willing, under compulsion, to do our part towards working the ship, but in no case will we bear a hand at any work of piracy."
"We'll see about that," retorted Captain Cain, with a sneering laugh. "Now, go and report to Mr. Barnard, the bo'sun. Tell him you're placed in the starboard watch."
Without replying, the two chums turned and went to carry out the captain's orders. Purposely they omitted the salute. They expected to be recalled and made to give it; but Captain Cain feigned to take no notice of the omission.
"I'll break their spirits yet!" he mused.
But Broadmayne and Vyse thought otherwise.
JUST before sunset theAlerteentered the Chenal de Four, a dangerous and intricate passage between Ushant and the Brittany coast. Not only does the water on either side of the deep channel teem with jagged rocks—many of them submerged at various states of the tide—but both flood and ebb set at from six to seven knots, sometimes obliquely across the narrow passage. To complicate matters further, the rise and fall of the tide is twenty-four feet at springs and eighteen feet at neaps.
By taking advantage of certain states of the tides, a vessel bound for Brest and the Biscayan ports from the English Channel could save a long detour outside of Ushant by making use of the Four Passage, but, in any case, the utmost caution is necessary. Strangers are, in fact, warned that to attempt this channel without a pilot is entailing great risk.
To Captain Cain this hazardous locality presented no terrors. Many a time during his naval career he had taken submarines between Brest and Portsmouth, and had lurked in the Chenal de Four waiting to turn the tables on the U-boats thatpreyed on the shipping converging upon Ushant. Now he was going to put the knowledge that he had gained legitimately to a perfectly illegal use.
"Any sign of theFairy, Mr. Pengelly?" he inquired.
"No sir."
"All right. I'll carry on. Quartermaster, keep those two towers in line—S. 5 E. is the course. Mr. Pengelly, see that the anchor is clear and fifty fathoms cable ranged on deck ready to let go."
The sun set in a vivid red sky. The lights of Kermorvan and St. Matthieu towers sent out their guiding beams. In a couple of hours the moon would rise.
Still theAlerteheld on. Presently the lookout reported a sail on the starboard bow. Against the still strong afterglow in the western sky the intervening stretch of water appeared to be studded with rocky pinnacles.
"That's theFairy," declared Captain Cain to Pengelly, who had rejoined him on the bridge. "She's brought up in four fathoms off Beniguet Island. No, we won't send out recognition signals.... Hard-a-port, Quartermaster.... Meet her!... At that!"
TheAlerte, her speed reduced to five knots, appeared to be heading straight for a saw-like reef. Another alteration of helm and she slipped past within half a cable's length of this ridge of rocks, eeled her way between two half-tide rocks and settled down on a course S.S.W.
"Stand by!" shouted Captain Cain, ringing for the propellers to be declutched.
Gradually theAlertelost way. A hoarse order from the bridge was answered by the rattle of cable heaving through the hawsepipe. Snubbing gently at the tautened cable, the pirate submarine swung round head to tide within two hundred yards of the Falmouth lugger owned by the redoubtable Cap'n Silas Porthoustoc.
TheFairyhad a riding-light on her forestay, but no hail came from her deck. TheAlerte, having extinguished her navigation lamps, hoisted her anchor-light. To any observant Breton fisherman there was nothing to excite suspicion. Small craft bringing up to avoid a foul tide were fairly common objects in the vicinity of the Chenal du Four.
Since Broadmayne's and Vyse's "promotion" to the starboard watch, the chums had spent much of their time on deck. Their new messmates, now that they recognised them as such, were apt to be either patronising or rudely inquisitive. They looked upon the two chums' predicament—being forced to work without payment—as a huge joke, especially as Rollo and the Sub were obviously men of a different social standing. Hence it was not surprising that the late crew of theIbexkept to themselves as much as possible.
The Sub knew roughly the position of theAlerte. Although he had never before been through the Four Passage, he realised from his previous knowledge of Ushant Light that the anchorage was between some of the islands off the westernmost part of the Brittany coast.
"Wonder what that vessel is?" he remarked, pointing to theFairy'sriding-light. "If she's a Breton fishing craft, we might swim off to her."
"Not in this tideway," objected Vyse, for the water was hissing and seething past the side of theAlerte. "We might when the tide eases off. It's bound to just before high water. 'Sides, the moon will be up soon."
They waited and watched, conversing in low tones. TheAlerte'sdeck was practically deserted. There was a look-out man on the fo'c'sle. Occasionally some of the hands would emerge from the close atmosphere of the crew's quarters for a breath of fresh air. But no one seemed to take the slightest notice of the two chums.
Presently the moon rose behind the gaunt Brittany hills—a huge red disc, that soon appeared to diminish in size and assume a vivid yellowish hue. It was now one bell and the first watch.
"That's not a Frenchman," declared the Sub, as the slanting moonbeams fell athwart the bluff outlines of the Penzance boat. "She's a West-country lugger, I'll swear. Wonder what she's doing here?
"Perhaps her skipper's a pal of the pirate captain," suggested Vyse.
"Not likely," objected Broadmayne. "They didn't communicate with each other when we came in. I was looking out for that. 'Sides, it's hardly feasible that a sailing lugger, if she were acting as tender, would show up within a few miles of the great French naval port of Brest. It would be far safer to get in touch fifty miles from land."
"That's so," agreed Vyse. "And that brings us back to our original proposition. How's this for a scheme. The lugger's now almost dead astern of us. The tide's easing a bit. TheAlerte'slook-out is for'ard, consequently he can't see what's goin' on aft. We can lower ourselves over the stern, swim off to the lugger and get aboard by her cable, if there's nothing better. We'll warn her master of the undesirable nature of theAlerteand offer him a hundred quid if he'll weigh at once and give us a passage to England."
"Then the sooner the better," said the Sub briskly. "It will be another hour and a half before the look-out is relieved. If he misses us, he'll probably think we've gone below. His relief will know we're not."
Their preparations were quickly and silently made. They sacrificed their footgear. Broadmayne took off his black oilskin, rolled it neatly and stowed it away under the platform of the sounding machine aft.
The next step was to drop the after-fall of one of the quarter-boats overboard. Had theAlertebeen a genuine tramp steamer the fugitives would have to run the risk of being seen through the cabin scuttles, but her cabins being within the hull of the submarine, were artificially lighted.
Broadmayne gave a swift, comprehensive look for'ard. The look-out man was still in the fo'c'sle. He was resting one leg on the low bulwark, and was gazing stolidly in the direction of St. Matthieu lighthouse. Evidently he considered his job a merely formal one, and was making the best of histrick by indulging in fanciful speculations of what he would do with his rapidly increasing wealth.
Giving his companion a reassuring nod, the Sub cautiously slid over the rail, gripped the rope and lowered himself slowly.
"Ugh!" he mused. "Feet first; rotten way to take the water. I'll bet it's beastly cold."
But to his surprise the sea was fairly warm. It made him shiver when the water rose above his ankles and knees, but directly he was immersed to his neck he felt no further discomfort.
It was true that the hot tide had slackened. It had decreased from six to about three knots, or a rate equal to that of a brisk walk. Still hanging on to the rope, he felt himself being swept aft until his feet were almost showing above the surface.
He dare not let go until Vyse was almost at the water's edge, otherwise he would be swept far to lee'ard before his chum was ready to cast himself off. Keeping together for mutual encouragement was part of the prearranged plan.
Down came Vyse, hand over hand. The two chums were now up to their necks and still hanging on to the rope. Both realised that if they were swept past the lugger by some not unusual freak of the tidal current, they were as good as lost.
"Ready?" whispered Broadmayne. "Breast stroke; don't speak."
They released their hold and struck out. The towering hull of theAlerteseemed to be moving with great rapidity. Almost before they realised it, they were clear of the shadow of the poop and were swimming strongly in the moonlit sea.
Now they could clearly discern the lugger as she strained and tugged at her tautened cable. The water was frothing against her stem-band. But for the cable, it looked as if she were forging ahead under power. Every now and again she would sheer madly, so that at one time the swimmers were heading straight for her; at another—it looked as if they would be swept half a dozen yards away from her.
By good luck, Broadmayne grasped the cable. With a jerk that well-nigh wrenched him away, his body swung round in the fierce current. The next instant, Vyse secured a hold.
Then the lugger commenced to sheer again. The cable dipped, dragging both men below the surface. Not daring to let go, they hung on, holding their breath until the iron chain tautened again, lifting them both waist high out of the water.
"You go first," gurgled the Sub. It was a hazardous business, clambering up on the underside of a vibrating chain at an angle of about forty-five degrees. Although it was not far to go, the difficulty increased as Vyse approached the vessel's bows. There was a danger of being nipped between the cable and the small, iron-shod hawsepipe, with the additional possibility of his arm being jammed between the chain and the lugger's stem-head.
Keeping clear of these dangers, Vyse hung on, looking for a means of getting in over the bows. Suddenly he caught sight of a stout piece of line by which the chain bobstay had been triced up to prevent it being chafed by the cable. It mighthold—it might not. At any rate, he decided, if it did carry away, he could make a grab at the bobstay.
Desperately, Rollo made the attempt. The rope gave slightly as he transferred his weight to it. The next instant he had thrown one leg over the massive bowsprit. It was then a fairly simple matter to haul himself up and across the heavy spar.
By this time, Broadmayne was attempting the ascent; water poured from his saturated clothing as he drew himself clear. He was breathing heavily, but the grinding of the cable and the rush of the tide completely drowned his laboured gasps. With less caution than his chum had shown, he allowed the knuckles of his right hand to be barked by the surge of the chain. Had it not been for Vyse's prompt assistance, the Sub must have relinquished his hold.
For quite five minutes the two men crouched on the lugger's fore-deck, too exhausted to move. There was no one of the crew on deck. A faint gleam was thrown obliquely from the half-closed fore-peak hatchway. Aft, the fluted glass skylight over the skipper's cabin was illuminated from within.
"Come aft," whispered Broadmayne.
In stockinged feet, they crept cautiously past the huge old-fashioned windlass, made their way along the narrow space between the tarpaulined hatch covers, over the hold, and gained the small aperture leading to the cabin.
The Sub knocked softly upon the door.
"That be you, Garge?" demanded a deep, rolling voice. "Come in."
Accepting the invitation given to the absent"Garge," whoever he might be, Broadmayne opened the door. Had it not been for the voice, the Sub would have formed a first impression that the cabin was untenanted.
Under the skylight hung a swinging lamp, with a polished brass deflector. Immediately under the lamp was a table that at one time had been polished mahogany. Now it was scratched, tarnished and blackened, the captain evidently being in the habit of knocking out the glowing embers of his pipe upon the table.
At the after end of the cabin was a long bookcase above a settee. On either side were seats with lockers under, while above the seats were cavernous recesses with large sliding doors.
One of the latter was partly open, revealing a hairy-faced man lying fully dressed on a bunk, with a heap of blankets covering him from his feet to the point of his chin. Apparently he was still wanting additional warmth, for a coal fire blazed in a brass-lined fireplace—the skylight was shut, and, until Broadmayne opened it, also the door.
Cap'n Silas Porthoustoc's astonishment at the sight of two saturated strangers was quite equal to that of the Sub and his companion, when they caught a partial view of the old man "stewing" in the hot and unpleasantly close air.
"Who are ye, an' what you'm wantin'?" inquired Cap'n Silas, embellishing his inquiry with half a dozen totally different adjectives.
"It's all right, Captain," replied Broadmayne soothingly, "we've just swum off from the vessel brought up ahead of you."
"Desarters, eh?"
"Sort of," admitted the Sub.
"An' you'm thinkin' theFairyis a nursery for cut-an'-run sailormen?" rejoined Captain Porthoustoc. "You'm come tu wrong ship, you'm have. Best swim back along 'fore there's trouble."
"Look here, Captain," began Broadmayne firmly.
Before he could say more, the skipper of theFairythrust back the sliding-door of his bunk and rolled out, bringing with him an avalanche of blankets, a heavy pilot coat, and an oilskin.
"Wot's this?" he demanded. "Threatenin' me in my own cabin, aboard my very own ship?"
"Not at all, Captain," said the Sub hurriedly. "We want your assistance. We'll pay you well."
"Pay me well!" echoed Captain Silas scornfully. "Can show the colour of your money, belike?"
"We'll give you a hundred pounds if you'll put us ashore anywhere in England," said Broadmayne. "Possibly the Admiralty will pay you considerably more. The vessel we were on is a pirate."
"'Slong's she don't do aught to we, I'm content," replied Captain Silas. "Howsomever, a hundred pun' is worth a-pickin' up. But if she be a pirate, as you say, what happens if so be she sends aboard us to look for ye?"
"If you up-anchor and get under way at once she'll be none the wiser," suggested the Sub. "If you think she'll chase you across the Channel, there's no reason why you shouldn't run for Brest. You'll get your money just the same."
"Can't start afore the tide sets to south'ard," objected Captain Silas. "But I'll tell you what: I'll stow you away. You can lay your life on it, you'll not be found. A hundred, you said?"
The Sub reiterated his promise.
Without another word the skipper of theFairykicked aside a narrow strip of coco-matting, fumbled at a small circular hole in one of the floorboards, and at length raised a double-width plank about eighteen inches square.
The light of the cabin lamp revealed a cavernous space, with sloping sides and massive oaken timbers. Floor there was none, the narrow space above the kelson being packed with rusty iron bars. A cold and evil-smelling draught ascended, while with every roll of the lugger the bilge water sluiced and gurgled over the iron ballast.
"Our clothes are wringing wet," observed Vyse, stating what was an obvious fact, for they were standing in puddles, while the heat of the closed-down cabin caused the wet material to emit a regular haze of vapour.
"Off wi' 'em, then," said Cap'n Silas shortly. "I'll hide 'em. Blanket a-piece will serve till they'm dry."
The two chums were in the final stages of disrobing when one of the hands tapped on the skylight.
"She be hailin' us to come alongside, Cap'n," he announced.
"Pretty kettle o' fish you've made," he exclaimed. "Pirate, you say she be. Well, 'tain't no use us kickin'. We'll drop alongside of 'er, an' theycan search till them's tired. They'll never find you. Down you go. Keep clear of yon propeller shaft."
Gingerly the chums gathered the loaned blankets about them, toga-wise, and dropped down upon the ballast. The trap-door was replaced and the coco-matting relaid. In utter darkness the fugitives crouched, listening to captain stamping about before going on deck.
Soon theFairy'smotor started, but the shaft gave no sounds to indicate that it was revolving. Then came the clank of the pawls of the windlass, as the cable came home, link by link. The gentle purr of the engines increased to a loud, pulsating roar. The clutch was engaged, the propeller shaft began to revolve—perilously close to Vyse's feet it sounded—and the lugger began to forge ahead.
She had not been under way for more than three minutes when the motor stopped and her stout hull quivered as she bumped alongside theAlerte.
"Now what's going to happen?" thought Broadmayne. "The blighters are coming on board."
There was a terrific din on deck. Men were stamping and running about, heavy weights were dumped down, the hatch-covers over the hold were thrown back.
The Sub could hear men's voices as they shouted to each other, but the motor roar intervening between them and the fugitives prevented the Sub hearing what they were saying.
"They're making a pretty strict search," whispered Vyse.
"'Ssh!" cautioned his companion. "There's some one in the cabin. It's Pengelly, by Jove!"
"All in small packages... easily got ashore ... he told you to do that? Look here, Silas, you'd better not... the cave behind your kitchen... we'll arrange all that later... part brass rags within a fortnight... it'll pay you far better... then that's a deal?"
The Sub broke out in a gentle perspiration. From the scraps of conversation he had overheard, there could be but one explanation forthcoming. Pengelly and the master of the lugger were plotting —against whom? Captain Cain, without a doubt. That was interesting. But the disconcerting part was: what was the skipper of theFairy'sattitude towards the two men hiding in the bilge? Would it pay him better to give them up, or to keep faith with them and so gain the promised hundred pounds?
"Mr. Pengelly!" shouted a voice, which Broadmayne recognised as that of Captain Cain.
"Ay, ay, sir!" replied the second in command.
The fugitives heard the sound of Pengelly's boots upon the ladder leading on deck. TheFairy'sskipper followed.
"The old sinner," whispered Vyse. "I thought he was going to betray us."
"I don't think so," replied the Sub. "The promise of a hundred pounds is our sheet-anchor. By Jove! I can see some interesting developments before very long."
"What developments?" inquired the other in a low tone.
Before Broadmayne could reply—it was quite safe to maintain a cautious conversation, since theuproar on deck would deaden every sound below—a minute shaft of yellow light played upon the Sub's hand. He knew what that meant. The coco-matting had been removed, thus allowing the lamplight to enter the thumbhole in the covering to their place of concealment.
The next instant the trap hatch was thrown wide open. Standing close to the opening was Captain Cain, a revolver in his hand and a sardonic grin on his face. Behind him were four of theAlerte'screw. Silas Porthoustoc, chuckling audibly, was stationed in the narrow doorway, while over his shoulders appeared the grinning faces of Pengelly and Barnard the boatswain.
"Out of the frying-pan, eh?" exclaimed Captain Cain mockingly. "You two have vastly underestimated the intelligence of theAlerte'sship's company. I'll deal faithfully with you for deserting, my lads. Now, out you come."
Dejected and humiliated, Broadmayne and his companion emerged from the loathsome place of concealment. Their clothes had vanished. Clad in nothing but Cap'n Silas's blankets, they beat an ignominious retreat, running the gauntlet of a fire of rude chaff from theAlerte'screw as they hurriedly went below to their berths. In the eyes of the rest of the ship's company they were nothing more or less than skulkers, who took every opportunity of dodging their share of work. And as such they had no sympathy from the piratical crew of theAlerte.