THE OIL-TANKER
FOR two hours more the _Alerte_ held on a westerly course through a
blinding fog before Captain Cain resolved upon a plan of action.
Generally capable of forming a swift and workable decision, he was
now beset with so many perplexities that for once at least his ready
resource failed him.
Against one outstanding asset--the Admiralty declaration that the
patrolling destroyers had been withdrawn--was a more than
counterbalancing debit. Cap'n Silas Porthoustoc's sudden demise had
not only deprived the pirate of a necessary confederate--it had
handicapped him severely in the important matter of refilling the
almost empty fuel tanks.
It was impossible for the _Alerte_ to enter any commercial harbour and
obtain oil from the storage tanks without certain detection. Equally
impossible was it for the same reason to receive supplies from an
oil-tanker on the high seas, unless the pirate resorted to force.
British vessels he had resolved to leave severely alone. There were
Yankee tankers to be met with, but Captain Cain was chary in that
respect. Although he had no love for citizens of "the greatest
republic on earth," he had a wholesome regard for the physical and
mental powers of the officers and crews of ships flying the Stars
and Stripes. Men of the Latin races were excitable and easily
intimidated, according to his estimation. A German could be bluffed,
provided he could be made to realise the argument of brute force.
But a Yankee strongly resembled a Briton, both in courage, resource
and stubbornness.
No, United States tankers were not to be meddled with, he decided.
Apparently the only course open to him was to operate on the French
side of the Channel upon any likely craft using liquid fuel----and
during the last few years King Coal was being seriously threatened
by King Oil in the mercantile fleet, both of the Old and New Worlds.
Porthoustoc's death had affected the situation in another way. The
_Alerte_ had no means of sending her unlawful booty to England. In
future she must be her own store-carrier, unless she found a
secluded and safe base of operations. It was too hazardous an
enterprise to attempt to approach any of the little frequented
Cornish coves under cover of night and land the spoil by means of
boats. Besides, the moment the news reached the Admiralty that the
same or another pirate ship was "out," all the previous destroyer
activities would be resumed with increasing zest. It was more than
likely that orders would be given to depth-charge the pirate vessel
if she sank herself under similar circumstances to that of the
_Memnon_ in St. Ives Bay. Captain Cain had a wholesome respect for the
British Navy and its methods in dealing with submarine operations.
The only solution Captain Cain could find, lay in deserting home
waters for less frequented seas. There were safe hiding-places off
the African coast, ideal spots for burying the pirate's booty, until
such times as the master villain could remove the spoil and cheat
his partners in crime. But there again cropped up the baffling
problem. Without sufficient oil-fuel, how was the _Alerte_ to cover
the sixteen hundred odd miles between Land's End and the African
coast? Was it possible to intercept the first oil-burning vessel
they met, British or otherwise, and help themselves to the precious
commodity? Would a monetary payment in the case of a vessel flying
the red ensign smooth over matters and at the same time absolve Cain
from his promise to his crew and also remove their scruples?
Picking up the copy of the Times, Captain Cain looked through the
list of shipping as reported by Lloyds. Suddenly he gave a chuckle
of satisfaction. Amongst the names appeared that of the s.s. _Mendez
Nunez_, owned by the Bilboa Oil Company, which left Cadiz on the 9th
instant bound for Swansea.
Hurrying to the chart-room, Captain Cain found and unrolled a chart
of the west coast of Europe from Finisterre to Cape Clear. Assuming
the speed of the Spanish tanker to be eleven knots, he arrived at
the conclusion that the _Alerte_ ought to fall in with her within
twenty-four hours at about fifty miles S.S.W. of the Bishop Rock.
It was a daring proposition. Apart from the risk of missing the
Spanish tanker altogether, the position given was not far from the
junction of the traffic routes for shipping to and from the Straits
and the West Coast of Africa bound to and from the English and
Bristol Channel ports, the Bishop Light being the first one sighted
by homeward-bound vessels approaching Land's End. In the event of
the _Mendez Nunez_ being sighted, could the capture be effected
without the risk of other vessels coming to the Spaniard's aid?
Leaving Pengelly in charge of the bridge, Captain Cain called the
gunner and the bo'sun to his cabin and put the case before them. He
meant to ignore Pengelly altogether in the matter. Instinctively he
knew that his second in command would strongly protest against the
idea of an African base. Pengelly was all right up to a certain
point in home waters, but not once but many times had he expressed
his fears about proceeding far from his native Cornwall.
Both Barnard and Marchant fell in with the captain's suggestion.
Already had they come to the conclusion that piracy, even with the
assistance of a submarine craft, was too risky a game to be
prosecuted for any length of time in British and French waters.
"You see the idea?" said Cain. "A couple of good hauls of shipping
homeward-bound from Senegal, the Congo, and other French and Belgian
colonies, and our fortunes are made. We'll cache the booty, make our
way home, charter a vessel all above-board, recover the stuff, and
there you are. It's as simple as A B C. Our first business is with
the Spanish tanker. Pass the word for'ard, Mr. Barnard. There's a
double share to the first man who sights the _Mendez Nunez_."
Ten miles to the west of the Scillies, the _Alerte_ ran out of the
bank of fog into a clear expanse of water under a cloudless sky. The
sea had moderated considerably, although there was a long, sullen
swell that caused the pirate vessel to roll until her scuppers were
under water. In these circumstances, should the _Mendez Nunez_ be
captured, making fast alongside the prize would be a manoeuvre
fraught with danger.
Captain Cain had made a correct guess with reference to the sighting
of the Spanish tanker. A wisp of smoke away to the S.S.W. indicated
the presence of a vessel. Half an hour later, two masts and funnel
showed above the horizon.
Glass in hand, the captain went aloft. From his elevated perch he
quickly ascertained that the on-coming craft was a tanker. Although
end on, the vessel's build and rig confirmed his surmise. She was
long, low-lying, with a funnel right aft. The only break between the
funnel and the bows was a small structure crowned by the bridge and
chart-house. She was flying no colours, but the yellow and red bands
round her funnel were sufficient to proclaim her nationality.
Rapidly the distance between the two vessels decreased. Giving a
rapid glance to reassure himself that there were no other craft in
sight, Captain Cain descended from the cross-trees to the deck and
thence to the bridge.
"Port a bit!" he ordered.
By so doing the _Alerte_ was merely conforming to the usual custom by
which vessels meeting nearly end on ported helm. The action served
its purpose. Quite in ignorance of the danger that menaced her, the
_Mendez Nunez_ followed suit, intending to pass the supposed tramp at
not less than two cables' distance.
Already the _Alerte's_ quick-firer was cleared for action, but was
hidden from the Spaniard by the rise of the former's fo'c'sle. The
moment the pirate vessel was in a position to enable the gun to
bear, a shell was fired across the tanker's bows, instantly followed
by the signal to heave to.
Signs were not lacking that this peremptory action had thrown the
Spaniards into a state of panic. Apart from the threat of being
sunk, they realised what the dire result would be of a shell
exploding the highly inflammable cargo. Some of the crew rushed to
lower the boats. The captain and some of his officers on the
tanker's bridge were beside themselves with terror.
"Stop instantly," signalled the pirate.
Some one on board the _Mendez Nunez_--certainly it was not the
captain--rang down for the engines to be reversed. The tanker soon
lost way, and was presently lying head to wind in the long Atlantic
swell.
With her machine-gun mounted on the bridge and trained upon the
Spaniard, and with every available man conspicuously displaying his
automatic pistol, the _Alerte_ was cautiously manoeuvred to come
alongside the prize. There was very little risk to the submarine's
hull. Her false upperworks might be stove in. The danger lay in the
fact that the _Alerte_ might fracture the light steel hull-plates of
the tanker, in which case the former would have to do without the
precious oil.
"Get your fenders out!" shouted Captain Cain to the still
dumbfounded crew of the _Mendez Nunez_.
Apparently some of the Spaniards understood English, or else they
realised the intentions of the approaching _Alerte_. Three large
fenders made of faggots bound with wire rope were lowered over the
starboard side.
With a heavy jar, the pirate craft and the _Mendez Nunez_ came
together. One of the fenders nipped as the two craft ground each
other's sides and was flattened like a pancake. Another carried
away. The partially lowered boat was crushed to matchwood. Rolling a
full fifteen degrees, the huge tanker stove in ten feet of the
_Alerte's_ bulwarks and buckled the stanchions at one end of her
bridge.
"An hour of this and we won't have a shred of upperworks left,"
expostulated Pengelly. "Sheer off, sir, while we have the chance."
For a wonder, Captain Cain concurred. With her port screw going full
astern, the _Alerte_ drew clear of her prey.
It was no intention on the part of the pirate captain to abandon the
attempt. Easing down a cable's length to leeward, he signalled
HNT--"Smooth sea by pouring oil on it."
In a few minutes the pumps of the _Mendez Nunez_ got to work. Volumes
of crude oil were released, spreading in vast iridescent patches to
lee'ard of the tanker. Although the swell still continued, it lost
its dangerous aspect.
"That's the ticket!" exclaimed Captain Cain to his second in
command. "Well, it's their oil they're using, not mine.... Steady on
your helm... port a bit... meet her at that."
Again the _Alerte_ closed her prey, this time on the port side. Held
by hawsers and springs fore and aft, the two vessels no longer
ground against each other with any danger of violence.
At the head of fifteen armed men, Captain Cain boarded the prize. No
resistance was offered. The Spanish captain and all his officers,
with the exception of two engineers, were ordered for'ard and locked
in the forepeak with the rest of the crew. Two of the tanker's
ejector pumps were led to the _Alerte's_ tanks and the work of
refuelling the pirate submarine began.
While this business was in progress, the boarding party were by no
means idle. A systematic search of the officers' quarters yielded a
little booty. The ship's stores and provision rooms were pillaged,
and anything likely to be of service to the pirates removed.
Then the wireless gear was rendered useless, the operator of the
_Mendez Nunez_ having previously been ordered to produce a record of
messages sent and received during the last four hours. None had been
sent since the _Alerte_ fired a warning shot across the tanker's bows,
the operator having deserted his post in the general panic that
ensued.
Meanwhile, Marchant the gunner, with a couple of hands, went below
to the tanker's engine-room. Breaking open the tunnel of the main
shaft, they fractured the propeller shaft by means of a slab of gun
cotton. Within the space of fifty minutes Captain Cain had
accomplished his task. He had replenished the _Alerte's_ fuel supply,
plundered the tanker, and had left her helpless in the Atlantic,
with no means of summoning assistance other than by visual
signalling.
"Recall the hands, Mr. Marchant," ordered Captain Cain, when the
gunner returned on deck and reported the fracturing of the propeller
shaft.
A shrill whistle had the immediate effect of bringing the
boarding-party to the side.
"All correct, sir," reported the gunner, after the men had numbered
off. "How about those chaps, sir?" he added, pointing in the
direction of the forepeak. "Do we let 'em out?"
"No," replied Cain, with a sardonic smile. "Let 'em batter the hatch
down when they find we're gone. A little extra damage won't
signify."
Returning to the _Alerte_, the pirate captain signed to the two
engineers of the tanker to cast off the hawsers; then, backing clear
of the _Mendez Nunez_, the _Alerte_ made off at full speed in a
nor'easterly direction, towards the Irish coast.
Forty-five minutes later, having dropped the tanker beneath the
horizon, the pirate submarine altered her course for the distant
African shore, secure in the knowledge that when assistance did come
to the disabled tanker, the Spaniards would declare that their
attacker was making in a direction far different to the course she
eventually took.
Just before eight bells in the first dog watch, the bo'sun came up
to Pengelly, who was in charge of the bridge.
"Two men missing, sir," he reported.
"Who are they?"
"Broadmayne and Vyse, sir."
"Then make a search for them. They didn't smuggle themselves on
board yon tanker by any chance?"
"Oh no, sir," declared Barnard. "They were seen some time after we
sheered off."
But the bo'sun had made a genuine mistake. At that precise moment
Broadmayne and his chum were having a very lively time on board the
Spanish tanker _Mendez Nunez_.