EXPLANATIONS
"PASS the word for Mr. Greenwood," ordered the commander as
Greenwood, Senior, found himself on the quarter-deck.
The voyage, short as it had been, was a revelation to him. It showed
him how the navy men handle their boats on a winter's night, without
a light to guide them, and unable themselves to show the orthodox
red, white, and green steaming lights. He was in momentary dread of
finding himself in the water owing to the picquet-boat either
colliding with something or else being cut in twain by another marine
race-horse. He marvelled at the sangfroid of his uniformed
companions, who chatted and cut jokes with each other with the utmost
unconcern. The hoarse challenge "Boat Ahoy!" from the sentry on the
"Pompey's" fore-bridge and the seemingly inconsequent "Aye, aye" of
the picquet-boat's coxswain gave him an insight into the ceaseless
vigilance of Britain's first line of defence.
Almost in a whirl he found himself ascending the accommodation-ladder
and gaining the spacious quarter-deck.
"Eric, my boy!" exclaimed Mr. Greenwood delightedly, as his son,
arrayed in unfamiliar garb, ascended the companion.
"By Jove! pater, what on earth brings you here?" inquired the A.P.,
astonished at the identity of his visitor. Then he paused, having
become aware of the presence of the commander, who stood like a
guardian angel behind the benighted visitor.
"Your father has told me that he wishes to communicate a matter of
urgent importance, Mr. Greenwood," said the commander. "I think it
would be well if you saw him in your cabin. If, in your opinion, the
business is urgent, you will please report to me."
He moved away to consult with the officer of the watch before going
below. Father and son stood irresolute; Mr. Greenwood hardly knowing
how to begin, while Eric was beginning to wonder how and by what
possible means could his parent possess a certain knowledge that
would require to be reported to the commander.
Down the ladder and the half-deck Mr. Greenwood followed his son.
Here an alert sentry drew himself up as the young officer passed.
Then the stolidity of his face gave place to an amused expression as
he noticed the dishevelled appearance of the A.P.'s companion.
"This way," continued Eric. "My cabin's under repairs. Haven't got it
quite ship-shape after that little affair off the Belgian coast. I'll
take you into Tressidar's cabin. Of course you know he's shipmates
with me?"
He knocked at the metal door. Receiving an invitation to enter, he
opened the door and drew aside a curtain. The cabin was small and
brilliantly lighted. Over the closed scuttle a curtain had been drawn
to make doubly sure that no stray rays were visible from without.
Seated in an arm-chair drawn close to a very small and compact stove
was Sub-lieutenant Ronald Tressidar.
"I say, old man----" began Eric; then, noticing the look of
astonishment in the sub.'s eyes, he broke off and followed the
direction of Tressidar's gaze. For the first time he became aware of
his usually precise parent's appearance.
Mr. Greenwood wore his coat buttoned tightly round his throat. The
coat was literally caked with mud and dust and in addition was rent
across the right shoulder. His face was as dirty as the proverbial
tinker's; on his left cheek was a line of dried blood, the result of
an unheeded scratch received in his tumble in company with the dead
bush. His hair, generally sleek and well brushed, was tousled and
matted with wisps of grass.
"Pater!" exclaimed Eric in utter amazement.
"It's all right, my boy," declared Mr. Greenwood reassuringly. "I've
had the night of my life--absolutely. No, don't go, Tressidar. Listen
to what I've discovered."
"Have a stiff glass of grog, sir?" asked the sub., after Mr.
Greenwood had washed his face and hands and had smoothed his ruffled
hair.
"Thanks, I could do with one," replied Greenwood, Senior. "In fact, I
was on the point of asking for a whisky, only I thought from your
look of astonishment that you imagined I had already had one too
many. No, thank Heaven, I've got off lightly, but I've left my best
umbrella on the beach."
"Fire away, pater," said Eric. "We are all attention."
Mr. Greenwood "fired away." Uninterrupted he pursued his narrative
until he came to the discovery of the supposed derelict mine.
"It wasn't glass by any chance?" asked Tressidar.
"Glass?" repeated Mr. Greenwood. "Well, now I come to think of it,
perhaps it did resemble glass. But why do you ask?"
"Because, judging by your description of its size and buoyancy, I am
inclined to think that your mine was one of the glass buoys we use
for marking the position of our submarine obstructions. After
on-shore gales the coastguards find hundreds of them."
The narrator mopped his forehead. A wave of horrible uncertainty
swept over him. Perhaps, then, the second episode of his nocturnal.
adventures would have similar harmless interpretation?
"Carry on, pater," said Eric encouragingly.
"By Jove, sir!" exclaimed Tressidar, when Mr. Greenwood arrived at
his discovery of the petrol-depôt. "Cut it short, if you don't
mind. Let's have the salient facts. Every minute is of extreme
importance."
Five minutes later the sub. was reporting the matter to the
commander, who, in turn, communicated the discovery to the captain.
In ordinary circumstances the captain of the cruiser ought to have
submitted a written report to the senior naval officer at Auldhaig,
but red tape had long since gone by the board so far as naval matters
were concerned. Other Government departments were still tied hand and
foot with fathoms of red tape. Well it was that at the Admiralty the
Gordian knot had been severed on that memorable 4th of August, 1914.
In a very short space of time the skipper's plans were formed. A
landing-party, under the orders of Sub-lieutenant Tressidar, was to
proceed at once to the solitary cottage. Since Mr. Greenwood was very
hazy as to its locality, the assistance of the National Guard forming
the coast-patrol was to be requisitioned.
Two pulling-boats, in charge of the first lieutenant, were to proceed
to the bay where the entrance to the cave was situated. Mr.
Greenwood's description of the spot was sufficiently accurate for the
place to be identified. Examination of the chart showed that for
miles northward from the entrance to Auldhaig Firth there was only
water deep enough for a submarine to approach within easy distance of
the shore at this particular indentation, which bore the name of
Sallach Dhu Bay.
Eric Greenwood asked and obtained permission to accompany the
landing-party. He felt that as his father had been the means of
locating the petrol-store, his son had a kind of interest in the
proceedings.
Mr. Greenwood, who was now feeling the reaction of his unwonted
exertions, asked to be put ashore. He was content to have a good
night's rest at the hotel and learn developments in the morning.
"Bless my soul, Eric!" he exclaimed as his son, with a conspicuous
revolver-holster strapped to his great-coat, appeared in the doorway
of his cabin. "What are you doing with that weapon? I thought
assistant paymasters were non-combatants?"
Eric grinned. He did not think fit to enlighten his parent on the
matter. Mentally he recalled a certain forenoon off Ostend. For three
hours he was on duty in the fore-top, with hostile shells flying
thick and fast. One, he vividly remembered, hurtled a few feet from
the mast, cutting away the shrouds on the starboard side, but
fortunately without exploding. He and his comrades in that lofty
perch had missed annihilation by almost a miracle.
"Get so much work in the ship's office that I'm glad of a breather,"
he remarked. "Oh, by the way, we're having a sort of informal
reception on board to-morrow afternoon. Several of the officers'
wives and families are turning up. You might bring Doris, and then
you can sample naval hospitality in wartime. The boat will be at the
staith at six bells--that's three o'clock."
"Come on, old man," called out Tressidar. "The boat's alongside. Are
you ready, Mr. Greenwood?"
The cutter, in which about twenty armed seamen were already seated,
had dropped back from the boom to the accommodation-ladder.
Tressidar, the A.P. and a midshipman were Mr. Greenwood's companions
in the stern-sheets.
At the landing-place Mr. Greenwood waited as the men silently "fell
in," while a seaman hurried off to enlist the services of the
National Guard to guide them to the scene of operations.
In a very short time the two coast-patrol men arrived. Briefly the
situation was explained to them. Tressidar gave the order, and the
landing-party moved forward and were soon lost in the darkness.
For some moments Mr. Greenwood stood still, hardly able to convince
himself that he was not dreaming. Then he broke into a run in the
direction of the armed men. Guided by the thud of their footfalls, he
overtook them before they were clear of the market-place.
"I say, Eric," he exclaimed breathlessly. "If you've a chance there's
my best umbrella on the beach. Don't forget it, if you can help it,
there's a good lad."
And having eased his mind on that point, he wended his way to the
Bantyre Hotel.