On the North Sea
The crew of the motor-boat had no great difficulty in finding their way
down the river. The glare on the water, and on the underside of the
enormous expanse of smoke overhead, enabled them to see objects ahead
with comparative ease. The actual channel was well defined, at first
by several barges still at anchor in the stream, and later by hundreds
of small craft making their way to safety.
Those who depended mainly upon sail to propel them were quickly
overtaken, for the night was particularly windless and their brown
canvas hung idly from the yards. Satisfied with having got beyond the
danger zone, the crews of these fishing-vessels were content to drift,
save for the occasional assistance of their heavy sweeps. The decks
were literally packed with refugees, who, glad to have escaped with
their lives, exhibited an uncanny calmness.
Reach after reach of the river was passed, as the motor-boat, gradually
working up power, increased her speed. Astern, the funereal pile of
Antwerp glowed red; it seemed as if the crew could never get beyond
sight of it. The spire of the cathedral had vanished beneath the
horizon, but the smoke from the burning city still hung overhead.
The four occupants of the motor-boat had made their way aft. The
girls, refusing to go into the cabin, sat on one side of the cockpit,
their eyes fixed upon the glare of the fallen port. Rollo, holding his
wounded wrist, shut his jaw tightly and endured the pain. Since his
chum made no complaint of his injuries, Rollo grimly decided to keep
the fact that he was wounded from the others. Kenneth, steadying the
steering-wheel with his right hand, had almost forgotten the unpleasant
attention of the shrapnel bullet. The sense of responsibility
outweighed all other considerations.
"We're across the frontier now," he announced, as the little craft
curtsied to the slight undulations of the comparatively wide expanse of
the West Scheldt. "Now, girls, which shall it be? Shall I land you on
Dutch territory, or will you risk crossing the North Sea?"
Thelma's was a prompt answer.
"We'll stay with you, boys."
"Will it be very rough?" asked Yvonne. She had faced the dangers of
the bombardment bravely, but the perils of a voyage upon the open sea
in a small, partly-decked craft gave her misgivings that the presence
of her companions failed to keep in check.
"Smooth as a mill-pond," declared Kenneth optimistically. "There's no
wind. We'll have plenty of company on the way, I fancy; and what is
more, the British navy has complete control of this part of the North
Sea. We are doing fifteen knots, I think; that's a little over
seventeen miles an hour. We ought to be in sight of the Kentish coast
a couple of hours after sunrise."
"Then I am satisfied," declared Yvonne.
"That's good! Now, girls, how about a cup of coffee? I can't make it,
so perhaps you'll do a good turn. Rollo will light the cabin light and
show you where the fresh water is stored."
As soon as his three companions had withdrawn to the cabin Kenneth
closed the door. The gleam from within dazzled his eyes, and, with so
much traffic about, that would never do. The motor-boat was running
without navigation lights. If there were any "steaming" lamps on board
he had failed to notice them. But the rule of the road seemed to be
sadly neglected that fateful night. There were vessels of all sizes
and rigs making for safety, and not one-tenth of their number showed
the regulation red and green lights.
Left to himself, Kenneth began to realize once more that his hand was
throbbing. The flow of blood had entirely ceased, and a dry, burning
pain succeeded the comparative ease of the wound while it bled freely.
He was desperately hungry and thirsty. For forty-eight hours he had
been on short commons. The reaction of the days and nights of
strenuous activity was beginning to tell.
The motor-boat, gliding swiftly through the water, had now outstripped
all the fishing luggers. Ahead were three or four steamers making to
the westward. Others, shaping a course for Ostend, had swung away to
the port hand.
"Rollo!" sang out his chum sharply. "Come and take the helm for a
minute."
"I was just coming," answered Rollo as he emerged from the cabin.
"There's coffee waiting for you. And the girls have made a rattling
good job of my wrist," he added, pointing to a neatly-bandaged arm in a
sling.
"Follow that vessel," ordered Kenneth, pointing to a steamer a couple
of miles ahead, her stern-light showing brightly in the clear starlit
night. "If you overhaul her, or if there's anything likely to be
dangerous, give me the word."
"One minute," protested Rollo. "The spray's dashing in through the
broken scuttles. I'll try and fix up the strip of canvas. It's long
enough to go right round."
Kenneth waited until his chum had completed the necessary and
self-imposed task. Being able to use only one hand, it was a
difficult, not to say dangerous, business securing the canvas round the
raised cabin-top, for the boat was now jumping considerably.
"That's done it!" ejaculated Rollo. "Now, old man, down you go. I'll
keep her going somehow."
"You have been a time, Kenneth," exclaimed his sister reproachfully.
"Your coffee is getting cold. Why, what's the matter?"
She broke off her reproaches in alarm, for Kenneth's face was grey and
drawn in the light of the cabin-lamp.
"Only my hand," announced her brother, with a feeble, ill-disguised
attempt at unconcern as he withdrew the badly-bandaged member from the
flap of his coat.
"What! Are we still under fire?"
"No; this occurred five or six hours ago. It's a clean wound."
Gently the two girls attended to the injury. The handkerchief had to
be soaked before it could be withdrawn from the wound. In five minutes
the now experienced young nurses had washed the place with antiseptic
and had bound it with lint.
"Right as anything now," declared Kenneth. "I'll have my coffee and
get on deck again."
"You had far better rest," replied his sister; "and Rollo, too, is
steering; in spite of his wounded wrist. I'll go and take the wheel;
it won't be the first time."
Kenneth gave in without a protest. He was "about done". Obediently he
stretched himself upon one of the cushions of the bunk and closed his
eyes.
Bidding Yvonne keep a watch on the patient, Thelma donned her cloak and
went out into the cockpit.
Rollo, too, offered no objections to being relieved of his duty. The
vibration of the wheel, almost unnoticeable under ordinary
circumstances, was causing his wrist intense pain. He handed Thelma
the charge of the helm, told her what course to take, and sat down,
admiring, in spite of his physical anguish, the alert, self-possessed
girl as she toyed with the spokes of the wheel with the ease of a
practised helmsman.
"We're up to that vessel, Rollo," she reported, after an hour had
passed. Owing to her superior speed the motor-boat had rapidly gained
upon the lumbering ten-knot tramp which was now a couple of cables
distant on the port hand.
Her companion bestirred himself and went into the cabin.
"I wouldn't wake Kenneth," he said as he reappeared. "Yvonne tells me
he's quite done up."
"I wonder you're not, too."
"I'll make up for it when we get ashore, never fear," declared Rollo.
"But the point is, we've got to steer a course. Here's the compass,
but it's almost like Greek to me. I suppose if we keep due west we'll
do something? There are such things as variation and deviation, but,
although I did have a chance, I never troubled to understand them. I
wish I had, now."
Providentially, for it was now close on high water, the little craft
crossed the dangerous sand-banks that encumber the Scheldt entrance
without any of her crew realizing the risk they were running. Once
they encountered "overfalls" of rather broken water on the tail of a
bank; but, with nothing worse than a couple of waves breaking inboard,
the motor-boat gained the comparatively smooth water beyond.
Grey dawn was now breaking. All around was an unbroken expanse of sea
and sky. Not a vessel or a buoy of any description was in sight. For
the first time Rollo was able to form some idea of the vastness of the
North Sea.
Bestirring himself, he examined the petrol-gauge and the quantity of
oil in the automatic lubricator reservoirs. The consumption of both
had not been excessive, and the motor was running like clockwork.
"It's getting very misty," said Thelma.
"By Jove, it is!" assented her companion. "I hope it won't come on any
thicker. Are you cold? Let me take the wheel again."
The girl shook her head.
"I'm quite all right," she declared. "I am enjoying it. How much
farther is it, do you think?"
It was Rollo's turn to shake his head. He did not know, and he was too
candid to pretend that he did.
"We ought to be meeting shipping in and out of the Thames estuary
shortly," he said. "I suppose our merchant vessels sail as freely as
they did before the war? Hello! There's something coming up astern."
He pointed to a faint blurr of smoke about three miles away and dead in
the wake of the motor-boat.
"Something fairly fast to be able to overtake us," remarked Thelma.
"Is there a telescope on board?"
"I'll see," answered Rollo.
Again he entered the cabin. Kenneth was still sound asleep. Yvonne
was seated on the opposite bunk, watching him as zealously as a
vigilant sentry.
"What are you looking for, Rollo?" she whispered.
"A telescope."
She arose and, steadying herself by means of the cabin table, made her
way to the for'ard bulkhead. Drawing back a curtain, she took down the
required article from a rack.
"It is a nurse's duty to become quickly acquainted with her
surroundings," she said with a smile, as she handed Rollo the telescope.
The lad returned to the cockpit. Standing with his back against the
after bulkhead of the cabin he raised the telescope. It was some time,
owing to the motion of the boat, before he could get the instrument to
bear.
"I must rouse Kenneth," he said calmly.
"Why?" asked Thelma. "Tell me: is there anything wrong? I will not be
frightened."
"There is, I fear," he answered. "Unless I am very much mistaken,
yonder craft is a German torpedo-boat, and she is standing in pursuit
of us."