The Decoy
Wondering at the inexplicable nature of Kapitan von Riesser's order the
unter-leutnant hurried off. In a few minutes the sea-boat's crew,
drilled for such emergencies, had provisioned and watered the
twenty-five-foot motor-launch that hung in davits abreast of the
after-funnel.
The securing chocks were removed, the falls manned, and the davits
swung outboard.
"Motor-launch ready, sir!" reported the unter-leutnant. "Water and
provisions are on board, and a hundred litres of petrol."
"I gave no orders for the boat to be victualled," exclaimed the
kapitan. "No matter: it will waste too much valuable time to remove
the stuff. Now, listen, Herr Klick. Everything depends upon the
strict carrying out of my instructions. Place two men on board the
launch--one to tend each of the lower blocks of the falls. Have ready
a white light. See that the helm is lashed. I will slow down the
ship, and turn her so that the launch will be slightly to leeward. At
the word, see that the motor is started and the light exhibited. Then
lower away smartly, and tell the men to hang on to the falls when they
are disengaged unless they want to be a target for the English cannon."
"I understand, sir. You are using the boat as a decoy."
"Precisely, Herr Klick. Now, be sharp. With a vessel pursuing us at a
rate equal to our utmost speed we cannot afford to lose precious
moments in lying-to."
* * * * *
"I say, you fellows, I think I'll go on deck and see what's doing,"
announced Sub-lieutenant Stirling.
His companions looked at him with feelings akin to amazement.
"What the deuce are you babbling about, old man?" asked O'Hara. "You
know as well as we do that we are locked in."
None of the three prisoners had any thought of turning in. They had
heard the crash of the British shells as the cruiser sought to wing the
German raider. In spite of the danger of being hit, and what was
infinitely worse, being drowned like rats in a trap in a foundering
vessel--since it was more than possible that the crew of the _Pelikan_
would take no steps to liberate the captives--the subs were in high
spirits. They took it for granted that their release would be a matter
of a few minutes only, since the lightly-built _Pelikan_ would stand no
earthly chance against the vastly-superior ordnance of the pursuing
vessel. Then came a sudden cessation of the firing; yet the prisoners
knew by the thud of the engines that the German ship was still pelting
on her bid for safety.
Hours passed. There was no doubt in the minds of the three men that
the _Pelikan_ was being hotly pursued. The pulsations of the engines
under forced draught was conclusive evidence on that point. The
captive officers sat and talked, drawing conclusions as to what was
taking place, until Stirling suddenly hurled a verbal bomb-shell by
announcing his intention of going on deck.
"Don't be so rash with your assertions, Pat," replied Stirling in mock
reproof. "It is certainly true that we are locked in. It is also a
fact that I possess a very efficient screw-driver. I took the liberty
of annexing it, as one of the carpenter's crew has been guilty of
negligence. On board a British ship that screw-driver would, in the
usual course of routine, find itself in the scran-bag; but since I'm
not at all certain that such a visible cure for forgetfulness exists in
the German navy, I have and hold the article in question."
"No need to brag about it, old man," said O'Hara. "You are not the
only light-fingered gentleman of our little coterie. As these Germans
had no compunction in entering the cabin and sneaking out hard-earned
cash, I repaid the compliment by entering one of the officer's cabins,
and this is what I annexed."
He held up a dark-green paper packet containing a dozen rounds of
ammunition that fitted the automatic pistol.
"Steady!" exclaimed Denbigh. "You're looking for trouble with that
thing, Pat. It's as dangerous as a shillelagh at Donnybrook Fair. And
what's the object in breaking out?" he continued, addressing Stirling,
who was fondling the screw-driver in anticipation. "If you're detected
there'll be a rumpus. I don't suppose you'll do any good, and if you
possess your soul in patience a little longer you'll be let out."
"Hanged if I can," retorted Stirling. "I must have a look round. I
didn't ask you fellows to come. In fact, there's less risk for one
than three."
"Have your own way, then," said Denbigh, who knew that when the Scot
once made up his mind there would be no turning aside.
The lock was secured to the inside of the door. It was sufficient to
keep out intruders, but quite inadequate to resist the application of
the screwdriver. Working swiftly yet silently, Stirling removed the
brass staple. Only the pressure of his boot against the door kept it
shut. Cautiously he drew the door ajar. There was a light switched on
in the passage. At the far end of the alley-way was the sentry on the
aft-deck. The rest of the cabins were deserted, since the excitement
of the chase kept all officers on deck. Having, then, no fear of
detection the sentry was sitting on the lid of a chest, his face buried
in a book.
"All clear," whispered Stirling. "S'long, you fellows. Expect me when
you see me."
He gave another glance in the direction of the sentry. The man had not
stirred. Softly Stirling crept out and tiptoed along the passage in
the direction of the ladder leading to the upper-deck.
The noise of the engines, audible throughout the length and breadth of
the ship, and the tramp of feet on deck, deadened the slight sound of
his movements. At the end of the alley-way a curtain had been
stretched in order to screen the light from the companion-way. Beyond,
although there were men standing about, the place was in darkness.
Stirling took the risk. He knew that in the gloom there would be great
difficulty to distinguish the uniforms of the German officers from his
own. Lifting aside the curtain, he stepped forward with the
self-confidence of a man accustomed to command.
The knot of seamen separated, the men clicking their heels and standing
rigidly at the salute. In the darkness they recognized the officer but
not the individual. Not for one moment did they suspect that he was
one of the strafed Englishmen, whom they had every reason to suppose to
be under lock and key.
Without interruption Stirling gained the deck. The shattered woodwork,
just discernible in the darkness, showed him the result of the British
cruiser's shells. He glanced aft. Far astern, the red blur that had
so disturbed the equanimity of Kapitan von Riesser came as a solace to
his mind. His surmises were correct. The _Pelikan_--or, as he knew
her, the _Zwaan_--was being chased, but he could not quite understand
why the pursuing vessel should be so far astern, since a few hours ago
she was within range. He, of course, knew nothing of the event that
led to the _Actaeon_ taking up the chase. Nor could he suggest any
reason why the German liner should show a white light astern. It
seemed contrary to every precaution necessary to shake off pursuit.
"May as well get for'ard," soliloquized the sub. "There seems a bit of
a hullabaloo. I'll see what it is about. I don't suppose I'll be
spotted if I keep clear of the crush. Hulloa! They're getting the
boats out. Are they going to abandon ship, I wonder, or is it merely a
matter of discretion, should the old hooker get plugged?"
With little difficulty Stirling took up his position under the lee of a
ventilator. As he waited he heard fragments of the conversation
between von Riesser and his subordinate.
Stirling was a poor German scholar; so much so that he was ashamed of
the little German he knew. By sheer good luck, however, he recognized
several of the words--sufficient to enable him to guess shrewdly the
nature of the kapitan's order.
Stirling was very often lucky in that way. Even while he was hiding
behind the ventilator he recalled a similar instance. It was on the
occasion of his entry examination to Osborne, and Stirling was in those
days an atrocious speller even for a youth of thirteen and a half. In
the dictation subject the lad found himself balked by the word
"adaptable". He was on the point of writing "adaptible" when he caught
sight of some letters stamped upon the pen he was using: "The Adaptable
Pen". When the result of the examination was announced Stirling found
that he had only just attained the minimum marks in English to qualify.
Afterwards he was apt to remark that he owed his commission to a
twopenny pen which might, for aught he knew, have been made in Germany.
"By Jove, they're going to use that boat as a decoy," soliloquized the
sub. "I'll risk it. Hang it all! If I'm spotted there can only be a
shindy. With our cruiser pelting up astern and Denbigh and O'Hara
below, they won't dare to try any of their kultur tricks."
The launch was now level with the rail. The men told off to attend to
the disengaging gear were already on board, while down below an
artificer was trying to coax the motor. Apparently he had trouble, for
he called out to one of his mates to pass something to him. At that
moment Kapitan von Riesser gave an order, and the unter-leutnant and
his men faced for'ard.
In a trice Stirling slipped quietly over the rail at the heels of one
of the crew. While the latter made his way for'ard to the motor-room
the sub entered the little cabin. It was, as he expected, empty. Not
knowing whether any of the launch's crew would remain, Stirling crept
under the seat and waited.
The _Pelikan_ was losing way. Her engines had been reversed in order
to bring her almost to a standstill in the least possible time.
"Lower away!" shouted a voice in German which Stirling recognized as
that of Unter-leutnant Klick.
The racing of the motor, which the artificer had at length succeeded in
starting, drowned all other sounds. The propeller, racing in the air,
was revolving at terrific speed. Unless the launch were quickly put
into the water the motor would soon be overheated, since no cooling
device was possible until the pump sucked water into the jackets
surrounding the cylinders.
The artificer, his task accomplished, swung himself on to the
_Pelikan's_ deck, while directly the falls were cast off the two seamen
swarmed up the ropes. Almost before Stirling was aware of it, the
launch was speeding forward.
"Time I made a move," muttered the sub. With the utmost caution he
emerged from his hiding-place and made his way to the well. The bright
rays of the lamp lashed to the ensign-staff enabled him to see
everything on deck. One glance told him that he was the only member of
the crew. Already the _Pelikan_ was lost to sight in the darkness.
Stirling's first act upon taking command was to cut the lashings of the
helm and to turn the launch in the same direction as the _Pelikan_ had
been travelling. He then looked for the supposed position of the
pursuing cruiser. On the horizon were two glints of red light at,
roughly, 15 degrees apart.
"Two of them," said the sub to himself. "The more the merrier.
Another ten minutes and it will be seen whether I am smashed to
smithereens by a British 6-inch shell."
As a matter of precaution he cast off the lashings of the lamp, placing
it on a seat just inside the cabin. There it was within arm's reach,
while the sub was not in danger of being temporarily blinded by the
glare.
"That's the rising moon," continued Stirling, referring to the light to
the east'ard. "The other glare is from the cruiser's funnels.
Allowing her speed to be 20 knots, and this hooker's 12 or 15, she's
gaining on me at about eight miles an hour."
Presently the newly-risen moon appeared in a rift of clouds. Its
slanting rays silhouetted the outlines of a large four-funnelled
cruiser, now less than a couple of miles astern.
"Time!" ejaculated Stirling laconically. Leaving the helm he made for
the motor-room and switched off the ignition. Then, returning to the
well, he raised and lowered the lamp several times in succession,
dipping it behind the coaming in order to signal the "General Call".
A light flashed from the cruiser. Thank heavens it was not the spurt
of a quick-firer but a steady white flare, to signify that the ship was
in readiness to receive the message. "_Zwaan_ has sent decoy adrift,"
signalled Stirling. "Probably altered course to south'ard. Please
return and pick me up after end of chase."
A searchlight was switched on from the cruiser's after-bridge. For a
few moments it played upon the now motionless motor-launch. Then,
somewhat to Stirling's surprise and to his not altogether complete
satisfaction, the cruiser began to slow down.
"It's all right for me," soliloquized the sub. "But it's hard lines on
Denbigh and Pat. I'm afraid von Riesser has given our fellows the
slip."