A STERN CHASE
DEAR BROADMAYNE,--I suppose by the time you receive this you will
have had a hand in sending the _Alerte_ to her long, last home.
Really, I don't envy your job, but it will be interesting to hear
how it happened when you return home, which I suppose will be before
very long.
"We--old Primmer and I--had quite an exciting time at Mousehole. We
found Porthoustoc's swag, but hanged if the Customs and police
didn't butt in, and we spent a night in the cells at Penzance before
the admiral at Devonport got us released! I'll tell you all about it
in due course.
"I've received the insurance money for the poor old _Ibex_, and I'm in
treaty with a fellow at Burnham for the purchase of a smart little
motorcruiser--paraffin engines this time, so perhaps you'll find an
opportunity and help me bring her round.--Cheerio, yours ever,
"ROLLO VYSE."
Sub-Lieutenant Broadmayne smiled as he replaced this missive in his
pocket. The _Alerte_ affair had already seen Rollo twice under arrest.
... Perhaps old Vyse would have a third similar experience in
connection with the pirate... Hardly likely, though. The _Alerte_ was
finished and done with. His chum was wrong in his surmise. The
unenviable job had been carried out without any direct action on the
part of H.M.S. _Canvey_.
The decoy-ship was homeward bound. She had put into the Canaries to
pick up her mails and had proceeded. Already the famous Peak of
Teneriffe was dipping beneath the southern horizon. Broadmayne,
leaning over the taffrail, was in a pensive mood as he watched the
water froth in the ship's wake.
Even as he looked, the ship began to circle to starboard. There was
nothing very unusual about that. Possibly she was giving way to an
approaching craft. But when the turning movement continued, the Sub
began to show an interest in the matter. Still more did he--as did a
hundred others--when the _Canvey_, having turned sixteen points,
steadied on her helm and began to retrace her course to the
south'ard.
Leaving the deserted poop, Broadmayne went for'ard. Groups of
curious ratings were discussing the seemingly unaccountable turn.
Several of the officers off duty, who were smoking on deck after
"seven-bell tea," were also in a state of perplexity over the
business.
It was not long before the secret was out and had spread the length
and breadth of the ship.
A wireless message had just been received, stating that, since
nothing had been reported of the s.s. _Bronx City_ following her
account of the destruction of the _Alerte_, the _Canvey_ was to
proceed in search of the American vessel, keeping a sharp
look-out on the coast as far south as the fifteenth parallel.
"Rotten stunt," grumbled the engineer-lieutenant, who was eagerly
looking forward to the _Canvey's_ return to Devonport--to an event
that would result in, amongst other things, the hoisting of a
garland between the ship's masts. "We were sent out here to chase a
pirate, not to act as nurse to a Yankee tramp."
"Well, why didn't she show up at Teneriffe or Funchal?" demanded
Allerton. "'Sides, something must have happened to her, or she'd
have wirelessed again."
"Bows stove in by the collision," suggested the
paymaster-lieutenant.
"But she reported she was proceeding," rejoined the engineer
officer. "Proceeding where? That's what I want to know."
"You'll probably find out, if we're here long enough," said
Broadmayne chaffingly. "It'll take six months or more to carry out
orders. We can't examine the coast in the dark. That means we'll
have to stand off every night and close the land at the same spot at
daybreak. 'Sides, there are hundreds of little harbours we'll have
to explore----"
"Oh, shut up, do!" interrupted the exasperated engineer-lieutenant.
For three days and nights the _Canvey_ ran south, speaking several
vessels, none of which could give any information concerning the
sought-for _Bronx City_.
During the morning of the fourth day, Broadmayne, who was officer of
the forenoon watch, received a report that a vessel's smoke was to
be seen on the port bow.
This was somewhat unusual, for off this part of the African coast
shipping gave the land a wide berth on account of the dangerous and
unlighted Lazarus Shoal. The _Canvey_ was, in point of fact, standing
in closer than prudence demanded, although in order to carry out her
instructions to watch the coast in the event of the _Bronx City_
having run aground, she had to run a certain amount of risk.
"What do you make of her?" asked Broadmayne of the yeoman of
signals, as the stranger's hull drew above the horizon.
"Flying Yankee colours, sir," replied the petty officer, after a
prolonged look through his telescope. "There's a double-barrelled
tally on her bows, though I can't make it out yet. She ain't 'arf
'opping it."
A few minutes later, for the two vessels were approaching each other
at an aggregate speed of twenty-eight knots, the yeoman of signals
exclaimed:
"Crikey, sir! She's the _Bronx City_!"
Dispatching a messenger to inform the captain, Broadmayne levelled
his binoculars upon the approaching vessel. As far as he could make
out, there was nothing wrong with her outward appearance. Her bows
were certainly not stove-in; which, considering she had claimed to
have rammed and sunk the _Alerte_, was what the Sub had a right to
expect. Her wireless aerials were in position.
Just as Lieutenant-Commander Raxworthy gained the bridge, a
three-flag hoist rose to the foremast head of the _Bronx City_:
INM--Chased by a privateer. Then, before the _Canvey_ could display
the answering pennant, the code flag over the letter E, signifying
that the following words were in plain spelling, fluttered in the
breeze.
"ALE----"
There was no need to complete the name.
"Sound off 'Action stations'!" ordered the owner.
Raxworthy formed a shrewd idea of what had occurred, but he was too
wary a skipper to leave much to chance. The approaching vessel bore
the name _Bronx City_. It might or might not be her rightful tally.
If, as might possibly be the case, the _Alerte_ had captured the
Yankee vessel, it was quite likely that the pirate submarine had
turned over her crew and armament to her prize. Or the _Bronx City_
might be the _Alerte_ disguised.
On the latter point Broadmayne was able to inform his skipper that
such was not the case. The _Alerte_, however cleverly camouflaged,
could not assume the length and lofty superstructure of the
approaching craft.
In double-quick time the _Canvey_ was cleared for action. The guns
were unmasked and trained upon the _Bronx City_. "Present use"
ammunition was brought up on deck and placed beside the
quick-firers, while the torpedo-tubes on the port side were charged
with their deadly missiles, ready at the first sign of aggression to
deliver a mortal blow at the huge target presented by the stranger's
hull.
The _Bronx City_ was still a mile off when a second vessel was sighted
a good five miles astern of her. Although she, too, was evidently
travelling fast, there was a noticeable absence of smoke from her
funnel.
Borrowing the signalman's telescope, Broadmayne had a good look at
her. He was bound to admit that the second stranger resembled the
pirate submarine. There were a few trifling alterations in her
appearance since the Sub had last seen her.
"She's the _Alerte_, sir," he declared confidently.
Lieutenant-Commander Raxworthy was on the horns of a dilemma. Should
the _Bronx City_ prove to be manned by a piratical crew and he allowed
her to go on her way while he headed off her supposed pursuer, the
opportunity of laying the former vessel by the heels would be lost.
On the other hand, if he stopped to examine the craft flying
American colours, the presumed _Alerte_ would seize the opportunity of
turning tail and disappearing. Again, he was not justified in
ordering a United States ship to heave to, for it might result in an
unpleasant international incident between the Government of Great
Britain and that sitting at Washington. Having been once tricked
completely by the _Alerte_, he was doubly cautious lest there be a
repetition of the ruse that had succeeded almost beyond belief.
At the captain's orders, a signalman taking up a conspicuous
position on the roof of the chart-house semaphored to the Bronx
City, suggesting that for her protection the American vessel should
turn sixteen points to port and follow the _Canvey_ at a distance of
ten cables astern.
To this the _Bronx City_ replied by the single word "Sure."
The two ships were now abeam of each other. The stranger in the
offing had turned and was retracing her course--additional evidence
that she was not an honest craft.
The lieutenant-commander of the _Canvey_ immediately rang down for
full speed. The chase--a stern one--had commenced.
"_Bronx City_ turning to port, sir," reported the officer of the
watch.
"Good!" ejaculated the skipper. "We'll drop her, of course, but it
shows she's jonnick. Ask her what she's been doing, Mr. Broadmayne."
The Sub told off a signalman to semaphore the _Bronx City_, which,
having completed her turning movement, was dead in the _Canvey's_
wake. For nearly half an hour the exchange of messages was
maintained at high pressure. Captain Adams told briefly all that was
necessary--the capture of the _Bronx City_ by the _Alerte_, and Cain's
considerate treatment; the detention in Bahia Arenas and the
_Alerte's_ broken promise in plundering the ship.
"Was Cain in command?" inquired Broadmayne, through the medium of
the hand-flags.
"Guess not," replied the Yankee skipper. "A mutiny, possibly.
Pengelly was in command when we were ransacked."
The Sub returned to the bridge and reported events. By this time the
_Alerte_ was less than three miles away, thanks to the superior
speed of the _Canvey_; while, on the other hand, the _Bronx City_,
unable to keep station, had dropped nearly that distance astern of
the British decoy-ship.
Raxworthy could have sunk the pirate submarine by gunfire with the
greatest ease, but he refrained. He wanted to head her into shallow
water before delivering the _coup de grâce_--unless she surrendered
first. He therefore ordered speed to be reduced to that of the
chase, the guns to be secured, and piped all hands to dinner.
Two bells in the afternoon watch found the relative positions of the
_Canvey_ and her chase unchanged. The _Bronx City_, in spite of the
_Canvey's_ reduced speed, was still dropping astern.
Realising that no useful purpose would be served by the Yankee ship
attempting to keep in company, the _Canvey_ signalled for her to
resume her former course, with the additional intimation that as the
_Bronx City's_ wireless was disabled, the _Canvey_ would report her
position to Teneriffe station.
Almost immediately upon receipt of the signal, the _Bronx City_
starboarded helm and dipped her ensign. Twenty minutes later she was
hull down away to the nor'ard.
The _Canvey_ now increased speed. There was no need for disguise.
Bravely her battle-ensigns streamed in the breeze, while her guns
were again manned and trained as far ahead as possible, ready, if
need be, to hurl their deadly and destructive missiles upon the
already doomed pirate submarine.
It was now a foregone conclusion that the _Alerte_ was doubling back
to her former anchorage in Bahia Arenas. She could not submerge
outside without going to the bottom, and since the depth without the
bar is everywhere not less than sixty fathoms, such a manoeuvre
would result in the submarine being crushed like an eggshell under
the terrific pressure of water. It was extremely doubtful whether
she would fight. Her solitary six-inch gun would be hopelessly
outmatched against the superior ordnance of her pursuer. Short of
taking to the boats and scuttling the _Alerte_, the pirates had no
alternative but to endeavour to reach the sandy bay and evade
detection by submerging.
Raxworthy was playing his own game. Apart from destroying the _Alerte_
by gunfire or torpedo, he could have headed her off-shore by reason
of the _Canvey's_ superior speed and carried her in the good
old-fashioned way by boarding. Such a measure, involving a certain
risk of casualties amongst the _Canvey's_ ship's company, would have
appealed to most of the men; but the lieutenant-commander had other
plans. He meant to compel the _Alerte_ to surrender if it were
possible. In any case, he wanted to take as many of the pirates as
possible prisoners. To slay ruthlessly was against his principles.
Prisoners, even if they were pirates captured red-handed, were
entitled to a fair trial, and in that event the onus of dealing with
them was removed from Raxworthy's shoulders.
At seven bells (3.30 p.m.) the _Canvey_ gained sufficiently to enable
one of her guns to fire a few yards wide of the chase.
Simultaneously, she hoisted a signal summoning the _Alerte_ to
surrender.
By the aid of glasses it was easy for the _Canvey's_ officers to see
most of what was going on on the deck of the pirate submarine.
Pengelly and the gunner could be discerned crouching on the bridge.
On the poop were several of the crew clamouring and arguing. Some of
them were evidently advocating taking to the boats. Most of them had
brought their personal belongings on deck, so that it looked as if
they had no intention of offering resistance.
At length the _Alerte_ starboarded helm in order to take the deep and
narrow passage over the bar. As she did so, Broadmayne noticed a
tall burly figure ascend the bridge, grasp the cowering Pengelly and
literally boot him down the ladder.
"Now, we'll have a run for our money, sir," remarked Broadmayne, to
the lieutenant-commander. "Cain's got his spoke in again!"