Presently, the regular plashing sound of oars, accompanied by human
voices, rapidly becoming louder and more distinct, warned Crouch that
the other boats were returning to the ship.
One after the other, they showed up in the darkness like white hovering
ghosts, keeping at a safe distance from the "Harlech" until assured that
all danger was past.
A few minutes later, Crouch himself mustered all hands upon the
main-deck, when it was discovered that the dinghy had not returned, and
that the sole absentees were Stork, the ship's cook and his mate.
There was nothing to be gained by further delay. Stork, who had by now
probably gained the shore at some desolate spot on the wild Cornish
coast, was not likely to pay much attention to the repeated hootings of
the siren. He knew well enough that his secret was out; that for some
reason or other the plot to destroy the ship had misfired, and that he
was likely to receive scant mercy at the hands of Captain Crouch, who,
for once in his life, had been fooled to the top of his bent. The
so-called ship's carpenter knew when he was safe.
As was afterwards discovered, he experienced no difficulty in playing
upon the simple mind of the cook, a chicken-hearted fellow at the best,
who had already had more than enough of the merchant service in time of
war. As chance had it, both this man and his mate lived at Truro, and
ten minutes after the dinghy had been beached, Rudolf Stork was left to
his own resources, with a free hand to go whithersoever he wished.
It is as well therefore that Crouch ordered the engine-room watch below,
and got the ship under way on a straight course for the Needles, before
the steel-blue streak of morning was far spread upon the eastern
sky-line.
The U93 was nowhere to be seen. She may have descended to the sea-bed,
to lie in hiding like a dog-fox in deep earth, or else made off straight
for Wilhelmshaven at her top speed under water--probably the best part
of ten knots, in all seas and weathers. As for the "Cockroach," she was
more mad than ever, flying here and there with all the superfluous
energy of her powerful turbine engines, looking for her stealthy and
elusive quarry like a terrier hot on the scent of a rabbit. As the
daylight grew, and a blood-red sun arose upon a calm, grey winter's sea,
the Lizard light went out; and the coastguards at the trim white-washed
signal station (which is what may be called the "booking-office" of the
English Channel) watched through their telescopes a large trans-atlantic
tramp, steaming eastward--spoken as the "Harlech," bound for
Portsmouth--and little dreamed of the tragedy that had been so narrowly
averted.
When the same ship reached the Solent, and the chalk cliffs of the Isle
of Wight stood out like a bank of cloud, those on board had passed
unscathed through a terrible ordeal, they had run the gauntlet of the
seas in time of war, and played their several parts like men. And there
was not one among them who did not realize that he had but Divine
Providence to thank that he was still alive.
It so happened that it was Sunday; and with all hands assembled on the
forward well-deck, Crouch read the service, and there was a meaning in
the words of the psalm that went deep into the hearts of those rough,
sea-faring men: "_If I take the wings of the morning and remain in the
uttermost parts of the sea; even there also shall thy hand lead me._"
War brings men back to fundamental truths that were known of old in a
warlike age when the majestic poetry of the psalms was first conceived:
that the heart of man is a heart of sin and savagery, but over all is a
God, just, yet full of mercy.
There is in Gosport--as, indeed, in every other port that lies between
San Francisco and Yokohama by way of the Manchester Ship Canal--a branch
office of the firm of Jason, Stileman and May; and here, to no less a
person than the senior partner of the firm (Mr. Jason, Senior, the uncle
of the New York agent), Captain Crouch told his story from start to end,
and did not hesitate to blame himself. He explained in full how he had
been deceived by Rudolf Stork, who had escaped from the ship off the
coast of Cornwall. He dwelt at length upon the part that had been
played throughout by Jimmy Burke, who--on Crouch's showing--had saved
the "Harlech" from complete and inevitable destruction.
Mr. Jason replied that the firm was not likely to forget the valuable
services the boy had rendered. Crouch had had a long talk with Jimmy,
and knew a certain amount of the boy's past history. Mr. Jason was
personally willing to guarantee the boy's future; but, on hearing that
Jimmy had no other ambition than to serve his country in her hour of
need, he said that he would do what he could to assist the lad to enter
the Army or Navy.
In the meantime, Jimmy was handed over to the care of Captain Crouch,
who was instructed to look after him as if he were his own son. Crouch,
who never had a son of his own, had rather vague ideas on the subject of
paternal duties. He betook himself, together with his charge, to a
certain small, old-fashioned hotel in a by-street, where he was in the
habit of staying whenever his ship was lying in Portsmouth Harbour.
The name of this establishment was the "Goat and Compasses." In former
times, under the sign of "God Encompass Thee"--a gentle salutation to
the traveller--the place had been a well-known coaching inn, at the
extremity of the famous Portsmouth road. In later times, as the English
mercantile fleet swelled to the present proportions, it became a famous
resort for ships' officers and master-mariners, such as Captain Crouch
himself; and in the smoking-room of a winter's evening, when a wood fire
of the pine logs of Hampshire blazed and sizzled in the grate, more
tales were told of the five continents, the seven seas, and the islands
of the South, than could very well be contained in a whole library of
books of travel.
To the "Goat and Compasses," therefore, Crouch and Jimmy Burke departed,
arm in arm. And the captain ashore--as we have said already--was a very
different man from the captain afloat, on the quarter-deck or bridge.
He was hail-fellow-well-met with almost every other person he
encountered in the street. He informed an old lady, who sat knitting at
an open window, that she was the possessor of an extraordinary fine
canary. He gave a crossing-sweeper fourpence, and a tobacconist--from
whom he purchased two pounds of his celebrated Bull's Eye Shag--the
benefit of his views on German methods of warfare. At last, at the
"Goat and Compasses," he ordered a meal that would have overtaxed the
digestive powers of a hyaena, emphasizing the fact that what he called a
healthy appetite was the one and only outward (or inward) token of a
Britisher.
It was during supper that something happened in the nature of a
coincidence. It will be remembered that Jimmy Burke had taken nothing
on board the "Harlech" except a few personal belongings, done up in a
handkerchief, and a dry loaf of bread. He wore, however, a watch-chain
which had once belonged to his father, and from this was suspended his
half of the Admiral's lucky sixpence. On a sudden, Crouch's eyes became
glued to this small shining souvenir.
It is as well to remember that Captain Crouch had an excellent memory.
He was an extremely observant man, who took careful stock of everything
that came his way.
"Pardon me," said he, "do you mind if I have a look at that broken
sixpence?"
Jimmy handed the sixpence across the table. Crouch examined it for some
time without saying a word. Then, he gave it back to its owner, and
lying back in his chair, thrust both hands deep into his trousers
pockets.
"How did you come by that?" he asked.
Forthwith Jimmy told the whole story of "Swiftsure Burke," who was his
grandfather, and how the Admiral's lucky sixpence had been the saving of
his life.
"And so," said Crouch, slowly nodding his head in approval, "and so you,
who came on board my ship as a stowaway in New York, are a grandson of
Admiral Burke! That's strange enough, but there's more still to marvel
at. Where's the other half of the Admiral's lucky sixpence?"
Jimmy experienced some difficulty in explaining that his best friend on
the other side of the Atlantic was a girl who had once worked in the
same office as himself. He even went so far as to say that her name was
Peggy Wade, and that it was for her that he had filed in half the little
silver coin.
"That's what I mean," said Captain Crouch. "It's what you might call a
kind of a concurrence. I met that girl in New York. She's in Mr.
Jason's office; and we talked things over, she and I. I might even say,
in a manner of speaking, that I took an uncommon fancy to the young
lady; and, mind you, I've not been brought much in the way of womenfolk.
I don't like 'em as a rule."
At that, Captain Crouch produced his pipe, and thumbed his black tobacco
into the bowl.
"Swiftsure Burke," said he, as if to himself, "Swiftsure Burke was a man
of whom the British Navy has every right to be proud. I'm more ashamed
than I can say, when I think that I treated a grandson of his in the way
I treated you. But, that's all past and done with. You must forget it,
lad; for, though I was a blind fool, my heart was in the right place,
and I meant it all for the best."
At that, Crouch rose suddenly from his chair, and stumped out of the
room. With his cork foot he walked with a pronounced limp, though he
was sufficiently active to go upstairs two steps at a time. He led the
way to a small sitting-room on the first floor; and there he and the boy
remained, poring over the mysterious message that had been rescued from
the sea-chest of Rudolf Stork, until the small hour of the morning.
Crouch, now that he knew for a fact that Rudolf Stork was a spy, was
willing enough to spend hours endeavouring to decipher the message.
Holding the paper first in one hand and then in the other, he read it
over and over again.
_Steamboat entrance verified. Evening navigate. Follow idea.
Vernacular encumbrance. Enter into Guinea half-speed._
At last, he laid down his pipe upon the table, and clapping his hands
together, cried out, "I've got it!"
"Do you mean," said Jimmy, "that you can explain it?"
"Seems fair," said Crouch--a favourite expression of his, used as a rule
to express an affirmative. "Seems fair. I was a bit puzzled at first,
but it's plain sailing all right, once you've got the thread of it."
And thereupon the little captain went on to explain what he took to be
the meaning of the message which, according to him, referred to a chart
of some little-known and lonely island, probably in the Western Pacific.
He said that he thought that "Guinea" must refer to New Guinea, which is
a German colony, and not to the Guinea that lies on the West Coast of
Africa. The island alluded to was probably one of the smaller atolls
lying to the south-east of the Indies. In this island, it appeared,
there was a harbour, the entrance to which would admit sea-going
steamers. Such a harbour, Crouch explained, would be invaluable to the
German commerce-raiders operating in those waters.
The beginning of the message was therefore quite easy to understand.
Soundings had evidently been taken, and the entrance found navigable. It
was necessary, however, to negotiate the harbour in the evening, because
there would then be less chance of being discovered.
The meaning of the next words, "Follow idea," Crouch was not wholly able
to explain. He said it was possible that they referred to some
suggestion made by the writer or, perhaps, by Rudolf Stork himself.
The rest of the message, according to Crouch, was simplicity itself.
"Vernacular encumbrance"; in other words, the language would be a great
difficulty. As the captain himself was able to testify, all branches of
the Kanaka language were extremely difficult to learn; and it is not
always easy to make South Sea Islanders understand by means of signs. If
the Germans required this island as a secret base, or coaling station,
they would first have to make friends with the inhabitants, since
obviously they could not afford to keep a permanent garrison in the
place. The concluding sentence was altogether apparent. The chief port
of German New Guinea, or Kaiser Wilhelm's land, is Stephansort, which
lies at the end of Astrolabe Bay, and a ship entering the harbour would
naturally steam at half-speed to avoid the numerous shoals.
The captain went on to say that, since there was no doubt that Stork was
a German spy, he had probably received definite instructions in regard
to the wireless station in New Guinea against which, it was believed, an
Australian expedition had already been despatched. It was even probable
that the message was not without reference to the German cruiser, the
"Emden," which in point of fact had already been overhauled and
destroyed.
"None the less," said Crouch in conclusion, "there's mischief enough
brewing in all conscience. So far as I can see, there's nothing to
prevent the enemy's light cruisers breaking away from Kiel and taking to
the high seas, where, by reason of their great speed, they are capable
of doing a great deal more damage than the submarines. That this
message refers to some secret coaling-station in the Western Pacific I
have not a shadow of doubt."
There was something so simple, and yet so probable, in Captain Crouch's
explanation, that Jimmy Burke was from the first both interested and
filled with admiration for the little captain's ingenuity. The more he
read the message the more was he certain that Crouch was on the right
track. As for the captain himself, now fairly launched upon the subject
of his travels, there is no knowing when he would have left off talking
of coral islands, cannibals and great banana festivals, had not, on a
sudden, Jimmy's attention been attracted by a very singular thing.
Regarding the message from over Crouch's shoulder, he was struck by an
extraordinary coincidence, which he had not noticed before, namely, that
the first letters of the first five words were S-E-V-E-N.
He pointed this out at once to Crouch; whereupon it appeared that in
similar fashion the first letters of the next four words spelt F-I-V-E.
Captain Crouch was so amazed that he even paused in the act of lighting
his pipe, with the result that he burnt his fingers with the match.
"That's strange," said he. "It may be we've got hold of the wrong end
of the stick. What about the rest of it? Have the first letters of the
remaining words any sort of meaning?"
Letter by letter Jimmy spelt them out.
"E-I-G-H-S."
"There's a flaw there," said Crouch. "It should end up with a T. That
last word should be _eight_."
By then Jimmy was wildly excited. The whole affair had suddenly become
not only interesting, but vastly thrilling.
"What about the _last_ letters of each word?" he exclaimed.
"T-E-D-G," spelt Crouch. "That means nothing, so far as my knowledge
goes."
"What's the next letter?" asked the boy.
"E," said Crouch. "T-E-D-G-E, that spells nothing either." Then
suddenly his expression changed. "Wait a moment!" he exclaimed. "What
about this? Supposing the last word, which is _half-speed_, counts as
one word, and not as two. Take the first letters of each word, and then
go back to the beginning and take the last letters. That makes the 't'
at the end of _steamboat_, the last letter of the word 'eight'----"
"And then," cried Jimmy, taking the words out of the captain's mouth,
"then the last letters are E-D-G-E-W-A-R-E-R-O-A-D."
"Edgeware Road!" cried Crouch, "by all that's wonderful and mad!"
They looked at one another with the blank expression of men who are
half-dazed. Then Crouch produced a pencil from his pocket, and wrote
down this new interpretation of Rudolf Stork's mysterious instructions--
It was only natural that Jimmy should look for advice to Captain Crouch,
who was considerably older and far more experienced than himself.
"And whatever does that mean?" he demanded.
Crouch made a wry face, and shrugged his shoulders.
"Ask me another!" said he. "I know well enough where the Edgware Road
is, and seeing that I was born and bred in London I suppose I ought to.
But, if you want to know what that has got to do with my secret
coaling-station in the South Sea Islands, I'm afraid you've come to the
wrong shop. Seven hundred and fifty-eight, Edgware Road! Jimmy, my
lad, we're no nearer the solution of this mystery than we were
before--in fact, it seems to me, we've lost our bearings in a fog."
In addition to which, there is no denying that Captain Crouch felt not a
little personally aggrieved that his own lucid explanation, his strange,
fantastic solution concerning some mysterious Pacific island, should be
supplanted by so commonplace and well-known a locality as the Edgware
Road in London.
"My boy," said he, knocking out his pipe on the toe of his cork foot,
"we'll go to this address, just you and I, and find out who's at home."
"When?" asked Jimmy, all eagerness.
"When!" repeated Crouch. "Why, now."