RECALLED
THE decoy-ship _Canvey_ lay at anchor off St. Vincent, whither she had
gone to replenish her oil-fuel tanks. Both officers and men were
growing tired of the seemingly interminable stunt of steaming to and
fro between the Cape Verde Islands and Teneriffe, vainly inviting
Captain Cain to "tread on the tail of my coat." They wanted to cut
into Wad-el-Abuam and settle the matter once and for all. It was
galling to have to keep in the offing, while the Spanish destroyer
_Villamil_ was at liberty to enter the estuary and destroy the
pirates' lair.
Day after day passed without untoward incident. Although the Spanish
Government had expressed its intention of keeping the British
Admiralty well informed as to the progress of operations, no message
was received by the _Canvey_ from London, or in fact from anywhere
that had any bearing upon the all-important subject of the
destruction of the pirate submarine.
And for a very good reason. No wireless message from the _Villamil_
was received by the Spanish naval authorities after a brief report
that the destroyer was about to enter the Wad-el-Abuam to attack the
_Alerte_. From that time the movements of the destroyer were shrouded
in mystery.
Presently it occurred to the Spanish Admiralty that all was not well
with the _Villamil_. There was something decidedly ominous about the
prolonged silence. The weather had been unusually quiet, so her
disappearance could not be attributed to a sudden tempest. It seemed
incredible that a unit of Spain's navy had been vanquished by a
contemptible pirate ship. But at last that supposition had to be
regarded as a fact.
About that time serious riots broke out in Barcelona. Every
available Spanish destroyer was dispatched to that port to assist in
quelling the disorder. Unable to police her territorial waters of
the Rio del Oro, the Spanish Government, putting its pride in its
pocket, made a request to the British Admiralty that the destruction
of the pirate submarine should be undertaken by the British Navy.
The _Canvey_ received her wireless instructions to this effect at
noon. Without delay the awnings were furled, steam raised for
seventeen knots, and the anchor weighed. The knowledge that the
destroyers _Complex_ and _Calyx_ were under orders to leave Gibraltar
for the Rio del Oro coast was no small factor in determining the
_Canvey's_ hurried departure.
No longer need she to steam slowly, with a red ensign fluttering
aft, and her officers and crew rigged out like members of the humble
but all-important Mercantile Marine. With her hitherto concealed
guns showing their teeth and the white ensign streaming proudly to
the breeze, she could dash into the estuary of the Wad-el-Abuam,
summon the _Alerte_ to surrender, and in default send her to the
bottom for all time. But she must be first upon the scene. Should
her friendly rivals, the heavily-armed _Complex_ and _Calyx_, forestall
her, then the _Canvey's_ motto would be the single word, Ichabod.
Two hours after leaving St. Vincent, Lieutenant-Commander Raxworthy
was conferring with Broadmayne, who happened to be officer of the
watch, when the leading telegraphist approached, saluted, and
tendered a signal-pad.
The owner read the message. The corners of his mouth dropped.
"We're done out of a job, Broadmayne," he remarked. "The _Alerte's_
settled with."
"Our destroyers, sir?"
Raxworthy shook his head.
"Not an Andrew job this time," he replied. "Read this."
The message was a wireless signal _en clair_ as follows:
"From s.s. _Bronx City_ of Boston, Mass., from Accra to Lisbon.
Encountered pirate vessel _Alerte_ in lat. 19° 17' N., long. 18° 23'
W. _Alerte_ fired three rounds and attempted to close. _Bronx City_
ported helm, striking _Alerte_ amidships. _Alerte_ sank in three
minutes. Four survivors. Am proceeding.--ADAMS. Master."
"That Yankee's in luck," observed Lieutenant Commander Raxworthy.
"He stands to rake in thirty thousand pounds. Carry on," he added,
addressing the leading telegraphist. "Copies to wardroom, gunroom,
and mess-deck."
In a few minutes the "buzz" was all over the ship. The feeling of
disappointment had a consoling feature. The _Canvey_ would be ordered
home to be put out of commission, and that meant the bluejackets'
highly-prized privilege--paying off leave, or "leaf" as the "matloe"
insists on calling it.
To settle the matter, an Admiralty wireless was received announcing
that operations against the pirate submarine were to cease
forthwith; vessels concerned were to proceed to their respective
bases.