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 white
enamelled woodwork of the promenade and boat-decks was ruthlessly
"scrapped." Over the engine and boiler-rooms a protective steel deck
was built, while light armour, sufficient to stop any hostile shell
from the light guns of the German commerce destroyers, was placed in
position round the water-line, and also in other important and
otherwise vulnerable parts of the ship.
In addition to the two 4.7-in. guns already carried four more of the
same calibre were provided, two on the fo'c'sle and two amidships,
while on the promenade-deck four twelve-pounders were mounted behind
armoured shields. Finally the ship from truck to water-line was
painted a neutral grey; her name was changed, and under the White
Ensign appeared in the Navy List as H.M. Armed Merchant Cruiser
"Strongbow."
During that six weeks Sub-Lieutenant Terence Aubyn, R.N.R., had been
far from idle. In company with the rest of the ship's deck officers
he had been sent to Whale Island, the Naval Gunnery School, to
undergo a rapid though none the less thorough preliminary course of
gunnery. Aubyn simply revelled in the work. Gunlaying, position
finding, gunnery control, both in theory and practice, kept him hard
at it, and when the examination took place he came off with flying
colours, somewhat to the astonishment and great satisfaction of the
authorities, who had hitherto regarded the R. N. R. officers in a
rather tolerant spirit.
Just before the date fixed for commissioning H.M.S. "Strongbow"
Terence was accorded weekend leave--from three o'clock on Friday to
nine a.m. on Monday. Needless to say he employed the time by paying a
visit 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 low
cliffs. The house had been designed by Captain Aubyn, who did not
live long to enjoy his well-earned retirement. It was a low rambling
building. Over the two end rooms was a flat roof, accessible by means
of a "hatchway." This was the worthy captain's "quarter-deck," on
which was mounted on a tripod a powerful telescope. There was also a
flagstaff set at a rake from the centre of the side wall. From this
staff Captain Aubyn regularly hoisted the ensign at the regulation
hour, hauling it down at sunset. This he did regularly until a few
days before his death. In one of the rooms under the flat roof was a
semicircular projection, pierced with several small windows that
commanded an extensive marine view. This room the captain was wont to
dub the "casemate."
People in the neighbourhood were apt to regard the house as the
output of a somewhat eccentric mind; but it was rather the result of
a life-long career in various ships of the Royal Navy, and so strong
were the traits of the service that Captain Aubyn introduced them as
far as possible into his private life. Whenever his friends rallied
him up on the subject of "Aubyn's Battery" the captain smiled
complacently. The reference pleased him far more than his
acquaintances were aware.
Terence Aubyn's irregular and hasty visits were always a source of
deep pleasure to his mother. In his breezy way the lad would take his
parent by storm, converting her usually quiet existence into a brief
round 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, as
quickly as the unpunctual train service would permit.
Once clear of the town Terence set off at a steady swinging pace
along the Denes. Several times he was challenged by patrols,
incidents that served to remind him that war was close at home. He
vaguely wondered whether such precautions were necessary, with the
Grand Fleet holding the North Sea and keeping every German warship
skulking in harbour. It seemed so unreal, even with vast armies
fighting on the Continent, and the sound of their guns almost within
hearing distance of Dover, that the peaceful Norfolk coast should
have to be protected against possible raids.
At length Aubyn reached the commencement of the cliff path. It was a
starry night, sufficiently light to enable him to follow the
well-known track without risk of blundering over the edge of the
miniature precipice on to the sands twenty feet below.
After a mile or so the path skirted a slight indentation of the
cliff. As Terence passed this spot he saw a light flash at the bottom
of the hollow. Then the gleam vanished.
In the starlight Terence could discern the figure of a man. In spite
of the chilliness of the night air he wore no overcoat. He was
standing motionless, with his back towards the sub.
"The fellow's dropped something," soliloquised Aubyn. "I'll go and
bear a hand."
The sand muffled his footsteps till he was within ten yards of the
stranger. Hearing the sound the man faced about and flashed an
electric 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 my
pocket."
The voice seemed strangely familiar, yet the sub. could not call the
owner to memory.
"You live about here, I presume?" asked Aubyn. "I think I recognize
your voice----"
The next moment he uttered an involuntary cry of pain and clasped his
hand to his eyes. The stranger had suddenly thrown a handful of some
burning 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 the
footsteps of the rascal as he ran from the scene of his dastardly
work.
"The brute has thrown quicklime in my eyes," thought the sub. "I'll
have to find my way to the sea and try to save my sight. Good
heavens!"
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, guided
by the murmurs of the waves breaking on shore. Before he had gone
many yards he gave vent to a prodigious sneeze, quickly followed by
another.
"That's luck indeed," muttered the young officer. "It isn't lime
after all; it's pepper."
Presently the involuntary flow of tears cleared the irritating grains
from his eyes, and though they still smarted terribly he was now able
to see. In addition a veil had been lifted from before his mental
vision: hitherto rather sceptical concerning the reports of German
spies on the East Coast he was no longer in doubt on that score.
There was also another aspect to the situation. Perhaps von
Eckenhardt had learnt the home address of the young officer who had
materially assisted in thwarting his designs upon the "Saraband."
Motives of revenge may have brought the German hither, possibly to
strike a blow at Aubyn through his parent. Terence tried to dismiss
the suggestion as absurd, but the presentiment grew upon him. He
resolved to get his mother to move into either Yarmouth or Norwich at
the first opportunity.
Thus reasoning Terence retraced his steps. He meant to inform the
nearest patrol of what had occurred, and if the telegraph and
telephone could be pressed into immediate service the spy ought to be
apprehended before morning.
"'Alt. Who goes there?"
"Friend!" replied Terence promptly.
"Rummy time of night to be taking a constitutional," commented the
sentry, stepping from the shelter afforded by a clump of furze; then
recognizing 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 anything
wrong, 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 of
his 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 hastened
back to Yarmouth and reported the matter to the naval authorities.
Energetic steps were taken to capture the daring spy. Telegraph and
telephone were resorted to, verbal descriptions being transmitted to
all police stations in the vicinity, while orders were issued to the
Territorial troops guarding the railway stations to exercise
particular vigilance in this direction.
It was also equally desirable to ascertain the vessel or vessels to
whom von Eckenhardt was signalling, and a number of small craft was
despatched to search Yarmouth Roads and an area bounded by imaginary
lines drawn through the Would, Smith's Knoll, Cross Sands, and Corton
Lights.
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 an
unearthly hour of the morning, he decided to crave the hospitality of
the naval officers attached to the Yarmouth base.
"Hello, Aubyn, old chap! what brings you in these parts?" asked a
tall, broad-shouldered man in the uniform of a sub-lieutenant of the
Motor Boat Reserve.
Terence looked keenly at his questioner. He was mystified, and the
officer keenly enjoyed his discomfiture.
"You have the advantage of me," said Aubyn.
"What. You don't remember Dick Waynsford? Come, come, that's base
ingratitude."
"Well, old chap, if you will shave off that inelegant moustache of
yours--congratulations, old man."
Dick Waynsford was a yachtsman who on the outbreak of the war had
applied for and had been given a commission in the newly formed Motor
Boat Reserve. His intimate knowledge of the intricate harbours and
creeks of the Suffolk and Essex coasts, combined with a strong liking
for the sea, made him fully qualified for the post.
In Yarmouth Harbour were a dozen or so weatherly motor-boats, whose
duty it was to act as tenders for the fleet in the Roads, and to
undertake patrolling work. At all hours and in almost every state of
the weather these staunch little craft could be seen as they sped
upon their various duties. Unthinking people regarded the Motor Boat
Reserve as a soft job--an opportunity to wear His Majesty's uniform
and at the same time to be out of any possibility of danger. They had
yet to learn that the war was to be brought actually to the shores of
Old England, which they had hitherto considered impregnable. Then the
slighted "harbour patrol" boats would have their chance.
"Have a run out with us, Aubyn?" suggested Waynsford. "We've just
had orders to look for a suspicious trawler--possibly the one to
which your friend the spy was signalling. Since you have partly
spoiled 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 the
dark waters of the tidal river, were four motor-boats, each painted a
dark grey and distinguished by a number on the bows, their outlines
feebly discernible by the feeble light of a partly shaded light on
the wharf.
"That's my packet--the 'Lonette,'" announced Waynsford, indicating
the outermost of the tier. "Mind that ladder: it's horribly
slippery."
"Fine little craft," declared Terence enthusiastically, as he stepped
into 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 the
two deckhands, who with the engineer constituted the crew of the
"Lonette."
Five minutes later the "Lonette" was gliding over the sullen
undulations 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 armed
motor-boat detailed to act in consort with the craft under
Waynsford's command. Neither vessel showed navigation lights, their
position being determined by the phosphorescent swirl as they cut
through the water. Overhead the stars shone dully, for a slight haze
was beginning to gather.
Suddenly a dark shape loomed up in the darkness--an object that
resolved itself into a large unwieldy lighter attended by a small tug
which was lashed alongside.
"Shifting the buoys," explained Waynsford laconically.
"Shifting?" inquired Terence. "Surely you mean removing them
altogether."
"Not much," replied his companion. "We've had orders to shift the
whole lot two miles to the east'ard. Should any of these rotten
German cruisers dare to come out--I don't fancy they will, worse
luck--the altered position of these buoys will puzzle them a bit:
unless your friend Eckenhardt has already signalled the fact to an
enemy vessel."
Five minutes later the two patrol vessels ran across a number of
trawlers making their way to Yarmouth. These there was no need to
stop and examine. Their bona-fides were above suspicion, especially
as a long, lean destroyer was steaming slowly in their wake.
For the next two hours the "Lonette" and the "Pixie" cruised between
the 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 caulk
in the cabin: you'll find the cushions fairly comfortable, and they
were well aired this morning--yesterday morning, I mean."
"Thanks, I'll stick it," replied Terence. "It's been a fairly long
day, but one must get used to it."
"Trawler, or some such craft on the starboard bow, sir," announced
one 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 a
voice 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 of
which 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 exercise
won'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 a
considerable amount of sheer and ample beam. Steam was escaping
gently through the steam-pipe, while a faint wreath of smoke drifted
from her squat funnel.
"Why no lights?" inquired Waynsford.
"Accident, mynheer ver' bad accident," replied the Dutchman
apologetically. "See you here."
He led the way for'ard. On the fo'c'sle were two burly fishermen
holding the remains of two lanterns.
"Forestay halliard him part," explained the master. "Lights, dey come
down 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. His
quick eye detected something that his comrade had overlooked. The
lanterns had obviously pitched on the deck, but there were no signs
of oil being spilled.
At the head of the little companion ladder Waynsford paused to see if
Aubyn were following. The Dutchman had already disappeared.
"Where's Mr. Aubyn?" asked the skipper of the "Lonette," addressing
his deck-hand.
"For'ard, sir," replied that worthy. "I can just make him out in the
dark."
"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'ard
he met Aubyn, who was making his way aft.
"There's something queer about this craft," remarked Terence
hurriedly. "I'm going to smuggle myself on board, if you don't find
anything sufficiently suspicious to justify her detention. So if you
don'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 in
touch with a destroyer, so much the better."
"Right-o," assented Waynsford. He was perfectly willing to allow
Terence to put his plan into execution, but at the same time, his
suspicions aroused, he meant to do his level best to find sufficient
evidence to place the Dutch trawler under arrest. Extreme caution was
necessary, since he had been specially warned not to commit anything
that could be construed by a neutral state into an unfriendly act.
Without another word Waynsford descended to the cabin. With rough
courtesy the Dutch skipper produced his papers, at the same time
offering the boarding-officer a glass of schnapps--an invitation that
was firmly yet kindly declined.
"Your papers are quite in order," announced the sub. "Perhaps you
have no objection to my looking round?"
"I no objec'," declared the Dutch skipper.
Although his suspicions were aroused Sub-Lieutenant Waynsford had no
fear of treachery. One of his men had accompanied him below, while in
the interval a deck-hand from the "Pixie" had scrambled up the side
and was pacing the "Vanhuit's" planks. The engine-room, fo'c'sle,
fish-holds, and storerooms were each in turn visited, but there was
apparently nothing to give rise to any question that the vessel was
anything but a harmless trawler.
At length Waynsford made his way on deck. The two fishermen on the
fo'c'sle were still devoting their attention to the damaged lamps.
Another was leaning over the low bulwark and engaging in conversation
in a queer sort of English with the crew of the "Pixie."
"Thanks, mynheer," said Waynsford. "I'll wish you good-night. Sorry
to have caused you any inconvenience.
"Der vas no drouble at all," rejoined the Dutchman. "Goot-night to
you."
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 word
did 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 had
been left in charge of the motorboat. "He asked me to drop a few
feet astern and then he slipped up over the Dutchman's quarter. Shall
I give a hail, sir?"
"No," replied Waynsford. "Easy ahead."