[Illustration: cover art]
A SUB. OF THE R.N.R.
[Illustration: "Crash! went the anti-aircraft gun, and the
projectile, bursting almost in front of the bows, gave her a mortal
blow."]
A SUB. OF THE R.N.R.
_A STORY OF THE GREAT WAR_
BY
PERCY F. WESTERMAN
AUTHOR OF "THE RIVAL SUBMARINES," "THE DREADNOUGHT OF THE AIR"
ETC., ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED BY W. E. WIGFULL_
LONDON
S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO., LTD.
OLD BAILEY
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I. FOUL PLAY IN THE ENGINE-ROOM
II. ON THE SCENT
III. THE DECLARATION OF WAR
IV. A DOUBLE ARREST
V. BOARDED
VI. AN OCEAN DUEL
VII. VON ECKENHARDT SCORES
VIII. THE DUTCH TRAWLER
IX. THE SECRET WIRELESS
X. H.M.S. "STRONGBOW" SAILS
XI. ALL IN A DAY'S WORK
XII. MINED
XIII. THE RAID ON SCARBOROUGH
XIV. THE END OF THE "TERRIER"
XV. VICE VERSÂ
XVI. THE FLOORING OF MR. MCNAB
XVII. THE END OF THE "BLUECHER"
XVIII. DERELICTS
XIX. THE SUBMARINE SCORES
XX. A DUEL WITH A ZEPPELIN
XXI. THE LAST OF THE "SYNTAX"
XXII. THE TABLES TURNED
XXIII. THE STRUGGLE IN THE CUTTING
XXIV. THE "STRONGBOW'S" PRIZE
XXV. THE WRECK
XXVI. "THE PRICE OF ADMIRALTY"
XXVII. "MEPHISTO" AND THE SUBMARINE
XXVIII. THE FOILED AIR RAID
XXIX. "LIEUTENANT AUBYN, R.N., D.S.O."
A SUB. OF THE R.N.R.
CHAPTER I.
FOUL PLAY IN THE ENGINE-ROOM.
"WELL, Mr. McBride?"
"It's verra far from weel, sir," replied Jock McBride, chief engineer
of the SS. "Saraband." Captain Ramshaw folded his arms and waited. He
knew that it was practically a matter of impossibility to urge the
rugged Scottish engineer beyond his usual gait. McBride could and did
work at high pressure, but when it came to making a report he was as
slow and stolid as the proverbial obstinate mule.
The SS. "Saraband," 5260 tons, intermediate boat of the Red Band
Line, had developed engine troubles shortly after leaving Cape Town.
In spite of the assiduous care and attention of the staff the fault
developed. Two hundred miles from Las Palmas the breakdown reached a
climax. Wallowing like a porpoise the steamer lay helpless in the
trough of the Atlantic rollers.
"Ye ken ye tauld me to do three things, sir," resumed McBride.
"Firstly, to discover the fault, secondly, to remedy it, an' lastly,
to prevent it from occurring again? We'll take case the furrst: here
'tis."
The chief engineer extended a black greasy hand. In the outstretched
palm was an oily mass of metal chippings.
"This is a sample from the high-pressure slide valves. They're badly
scored. It's nae fair play, for as sure as ma name's Jock McBride,
this muck has been put in the gear deliberately. I'll hae ye to ken
that both port and starboard engines are damaged."
"While we were in Table Bay?"
"Of course, sir, when we took down the high-pressure cylinders."
"The work was performed by our own staff?"
"Aye, wurrst luck, by one of our ain people."
McBride's lean, tanned face was purple with ill-suppressed anger.
"If I could discover the mon I'd not wait for the law to wurrk its
course; I'd lay him oot an' stand the consequences. The remedy, sir,
is simple, but 'tis the prevention that troubles me. If it is done
wance, 'twill most likely occur again--unless I lay my hand on the
mon."
"How many of the staff know of this?" asked Captain Ramshaw, pointing
to the steel filings.
"Only Meester Raeburn, sir, and he's as guid a lad as ever I hope to
have under me. It was he who removed the stuff an' showed it me."
"Then caution him to keep his mouth shut on the business, Mr.
McBride. When can you promise to have steam raised?"
"A matter of twa' hours after we've re-assembled the high-pressure
slide valves and the auxiliary starting valves, sir."
"Very good, Mr. McBride, that will do."
The chief engineer saluted and hurried off to the engine-room, while
Captain Ramshaw made his way to the bridge, which was in charge of
Chief Officer Lymore and the fourth officer, Terence Aubyn.
Mr. Lymore, a short, broad-shouldered, powerfully built man, looked
inquiringly at his superior officer as the skipper mounted the
bridge.
"McBride's found the cause of the mischief, Mr. Lymore," announced
Captain Ramshaw. "I do not want either you or Mr. Aubyn to mention
the matter to any of the passengers and crew, and Mr. McBride has
undertaken to conceal the knowledge from his staff with the exception
of Mr. Raeburn. I think the secret can be safely trusted with those
whose names I've mentioned."
"You can rely upon us, sir," said the chief officer, and Terence
Aubyn touched his cap in acquiescence.
"There's underhand work somewhere," continued the "old man." "McBride
informs me that metal scrap has been surreptitiously placed in the
high-pressure cylinders, and that it must have been done while the
engines were being overhauled at Cape Town. As we had no outside
help, the culprit or culprits must have been one of our own men."
"For what reason, do you suppose, sir?"
"That I cannot say. The engineers are, I think, absolutely
trustworthy. The firemen are apparently contented. They are paid at
rates considerably higher than those demanded by their Union. They
have no cause to be affected by labour troubles. And yet some one has
deliberately attempted to delay the ship by maliciously tampering
with the engines.
"Will it be a long job, sir?" asked Lymore.
"I think not. One blessing, the sea's fairly calm and the passengers
don't appear to be unduly anxious. There is now no necessity to send
a call for assistance. You might go to the wireless-room, Mr. Aubyn,
and tell the operator to inform our agents that the repairs are well
in hand, and that we hope to arrive at Las Palmas by daybreak
to-morrow."
Terence Aubyn saluted and hurried off. Keen on his work he realized
the desirability of executing all orders "at the double." Alacrity
afloat, he knew, is a sure password for success, and already he had
the reputation of being a smart young officer.
He was barely twenty-two years of age, tall, slimly built yet
well-proportioned. His complexion was normally fresh, but constant
exposure to a tropical sun and the stinging salt spray of the
Atlantic had tanned his skin to a rich deep red. His dark brown hair,
in spite of being closely cut, showed a decided tendency to wave. His
eyes were rather deep set and of a greyish hue, and were surrounded
by a pair of regularly curved eyebrows. The depth of his forehead
indicated a sound judgment, while his powerful square jaw betokened a
firmness almost bordering on obstinacy.
Terence Aubyn had from his earliest days a strong and passionate love
of the sea. He came of an old naval family. For generations back the
Aubyns had served their sovereign worthily as officers in the Royal
Navy, and Terence fondly hoped to tread the quarter deck of a British
battleship as a fully commissioned naval officer.
But hitherto the fates had not been kind to the lad.
While he was still a lieutenant Terence's father had to retire, owing
to ill-health. His disability pension was absolutely insufficient for
him to hope to send his son to Osborne. Two years later Mr. Aubyn
died, leaving Terence, then a promising youth of fourteen, to make
his own way in the world.
The lad had plenty of grit. He was determined to go to sea, although
the immediate prospect of service under the White Ensign seemed to be
very remote. There was a way--the hitherto somewhat despised "back
door" method via the Red and Blue ensigns; and although he could not
hope to be anything more than a Royal Naval Reserve officer, the
chance of serving as such in a British man-of-war slowly but surely
changed from a shadow to a substance.
So Terence offered himself at the "Red Band" Line offices as an
apprentice and was accepted. Perhaps it was a mistake. It might have
been better for him to have served part of his apprenticeship in a
sailing vessel. Be that as it may his application and activity gained
him the good opinion of the various masters under whom he served, and
with flying colours he obtained his Mate's and First Mate's
certificates.
Two years later, having secured his "Master's Ticket," he was
appointed to SS. "Saraband." The way was now clear for him to apply
for a sub-lieutenancy in the Royal Naval Reserve, for, although only
fourth officer, the ship exceeded 5000 tons; otherwise he would have
to wait until he was advanced another grade in mercantile rank. At
the end of the present voyage he hoped to put in his first
twenty-eight days training on board a battleship or cruiser.
The "Saraband," though by no means a crack liner, was a fairly swift
boat. Built before the days of turbine engines she could even now
develop nineteen knots. She was homeward bound, carrying thirty
first-class passengers, seventy second-class, and a hundred and
seventy "steerage." In addition to a heavy cargo, specie and bullion
to the value of a quarter of a million was locked up in her
strong-room.
Almost as soon as the "Saraband" cleared Table Bay trouble developed
in her engines. Unaccountably the bearings of the main shafting
became badly overheated, then a peculiar grinding noise, so foreign
to the smoothly purring engines that were the pride and delight of
Chief Engineer McBride, became apparent. Finally, to prevent a
complete breakdown, the "Saraband" was stopped in mid-ocean while
McBride and his staff ascertained and rectified the damage.
The old Scotsman was right. Some one had maliciously tampered with
the machinery--but for what purpose?
The fourth officer made his way to the wireless-room and knocked at
the door. He was answered by Wilcox, the second operator. A glimpse
into the room revealed Grant, the senior man, seated at a table with
the receivers clipped to his ears.
"Anything special?" asked Aubyn casually, after he had delivered the
"old man's" instructions.
"Slightly," drawled Wilcox. He invariably drawled, no matter the
importance of whatever he was about to convey. "Message just come
through. Germany has declared war on Russia and has invaded French
territory."
"By Jove! That sounds exciting," commented Aubyn.
"Perhaps," rejoined the wireless operator. "For one thing it will
give the ship's newspaper a friendly lead. There's been precious
little in it for the last three days. I'm just sending out the
notices," and he held up a sheaf of duplicated papers for
distribution in various parts of the ship. "Would you mind taking
them to the bridge."
In five minutes the news had spread all over the "Saraband." The
hitherto lethargic passengers developed intense excitement, and great
was the speculation as to when the trouble would end.
"A jolly good thing for us," observed one of the first-class
passengers, as Terence passed along the promenade deck. "It will
spoil Germany's trade for a while, and we can collar the lot while
her hands are full."
"Unless we are drawn in," remarked another.
"Rot!" ejaculated the first contemptuously. "The Government would
never allow it. Take my word for it: we'll adopt the same attitude as
we did in '70--strict neutrality and make as much as we can out of
all the belligerents. The idea of war between Great Britain and
Germany is preposterous."
The fourth officer passed on. Much as he would have liked to hear the
continuation of the argument he was unable to delay returning to his
post.
Shortly after Aubyn's arrival on the bridge, a large German liner,
the "Hertzolf," bore down upon the "Saraband." She had some time
previously picked up the British vessel's wireless reports of her
disabled condition, and in spite of Captain Ramshaw's refusal to
accept assistance, had steamed out of her course to investigate.
After receiving reiterated assurances that the work of repairing the
machinery was well in hand, the "Hertzolf" inquired how long the task
would take.
"Tell them we are almost ready to get up steam," ordered the "old
man," somewhat nettled. "Thank them for their inquiries, and say
that we will not detain them longer."
Five minutes later the "Hertzolfs" propellers began to churn the
water. Gathering way she dipped her red, white, and black ensign, a
compliment that the "Saraband" promptly returned. This done she
shaped a course to the sou'-west and was soon hull-down.
"Too jolly inquisitive for my liking," muttered Captain Ramshaw. "I
wish to goodness old McBride would get his job finished." He moved
towards the telephone communicating with the engine-room, then,
abruptly wheeling:--
"Mr. Aubyn," he exclaimed. "Present my compliments to the chief
engineer, and ask him if he can give me any definite information as
to when he will be able to raise steam."