Under the White Ensign: A Naval Story of the Great War
CHAPTER XXV
An Unknown Antagonist
LIEUTENANT OSBORNE'S first step was to take the captured felucca intow. Leaving one man on board to attend to the helm, he steered thepatrol-boat ahead, with a hawser made fast to the bitts of the prize.A wireless message was then sent to the _Fleetwing_ announcing thesuccessful issue of the enterprise, and requesting furtherinstructions. After a brief interval the sea-plane carrier replied:
"Under urgent orders for Salonika. Take prize into Mudros and reportto Senior Naval Officer."
"Hallo, something in the wind," soliloquized Osborne. "Urgent ordersfor Salonika. That looks like business. Meanwhile we're entirely onour own, and confronted with the task of navigating the felucca intoMudros. Well, I suppose there are worse jobs knocking around."
Yet the order involved work of no mean skill. Osborne was a strangerto the waters in the vicinity of the Cyclades. Once clear of thatdangerous locality he was in well-known "ground", but there was thealways present danger of a hostile submarine. In ordinary conditionsthe swift patrol-boat was more than a match for the U-boat, but,hampered by her tow, No. 0916's superiority in speed and manoeuvringwas eliminated.
"THE GREEKS WENT DOWN LIKE NINEPINS"]
A glance at a chart, or even at a map of the AEgean Sea, will givesome idea of the intricate navigation that called for Osborne's skilland courage. Dozens of islands lay athwart the direct course, reefsabounded, while intricate currents traversed this part of thetideless sea in directions that were hardly ever constant. A changeof wind might divert the current eight or ten degrees without havingany appreciable effect upon its velocity, while, in addition, theislands were badly lighted, especially during this critical epoch inthe history of modern Greece.
Throughout the night Osborne remained on deck, standing in the lowwheel-house beside the helmsman. Fortunately the sea was calm and theglass high, while there was little or no shipping about, which was aswell, since No. 0916 and her tow were without navigation lights.
When day broke, the Lieutenant snatched a few minutes' well-earnedrest, awaking to find Sub-lieutenant Webb touching him gently on theshoulder.
"Yes, fit as ninepence," replied the Sub in answer to Osborne'senquiry. "But that's not the reason why I roused you. There's astrange-looking packet coming up astern. She's overhauling us prettyrapidly."
Osborne leapt from his bunk, buckled on his belt, and rammed his capon his head the rite of "dressing" when on active service.
"Is she showing her colours?" he asked.
"Nothing," replied Webb. "We signalled her, but she took no notice."
Upon gaining the deck the Lieutenant found that the overtaking vesselwas a steamer of about five hundred tons. She looked like a yachtwith her schooner bows, raking masts, and white topsides. Heestimated her speed at about fourteen knots, and since she wasfollowing almost in the wake of No. 0916 and her tow, it seemedfairly evident that she was desirous of making a closer acquaintancewith the patrol-boat.
The unanswered signal, "What ship is that?" still fluttered from theyard-arm of the patrol-boat's diminutive mast, and since the wind wasblowing steadily abeam there could be no doubt of the ability of thestranger to read the flags.
That in itself was suspicious; yet what hostile nation was there thatwould dare to send a vessel, other than a submarine, into watersfirmly held by the Allied fleet? And of the countries bordering theMediterranean Sea the only one strictly neutral was Spain. It wasvery unlikely that a Spanish yacht would be cruising in these waters,and especially so for her to stand in pursuit of a British armedcraft.
Osborne glanced at the felucca. The helmsman had just been relieved,No. 0916 slowing down to enable the change of crew to be effected.
"All right there, Smith?" he hailed.
"All correct, sir," was the reply. "The lubbers under hatches are asquiet as mice."
"Very good," continued the Lieutenant. "I may have to cast youadrift. If so, can you manage to set sail on the foremast and steerto the west'ard? We'll wireless for assistance and pick you up."
"Ay, ay, sir," was the imperturbable response.
The possibility of being adrift, single-handed, with a crew ofcut-throats in the hold, never troubled the bluejacket in theslightest. He was a firm believer in the creed, "Duty is duty".
The patrol-boat was already cleared for action, but until Osborne wascertain of the intentions of the approaching vessel he refrained fromcasting off the hawser. It was as well to mislead the strangerconcerning the speed of No. 0916.
Without warning, the pursuing craft opened fire with a couple oflight guns that were hitherto concealed behind hinged plating in thebows. Yet, contrary to all the international rules of war, she stillmade no attempt to display her colours.
The projectiles flew wide, one ricochetting a hundred yards on thepatrol-boat's starboard quarter, the other churning up a column ofspray a cable's length ahead; but there was now no doubt as to theunknown vessel's intentions.
With the report of the guns a succession of shrieks emanated from thepatrol-boat's forepeak. The spy, Hymettus, almost frantic withterror, was clamouring to be released.
"You're all right, my festive bird," chuckled Osborne as he gave thesignal for the hawser to be cast off. "A little of that won't hurtyou. I'll warrant you didn't study other people's feelings when youhelped the Huns to torpedo our merchant craft."
With her wireless sending out messages for aid, No. 0916, relieved ofher tow, shot ahead at full speed. Had Osborne wished, he could havesought safety in flight; but such was not his intention. He meant tokeep in touch with the mysterious armed vessel, and, should hershooting prove inferior, engage her at maximum range.
"She's using seven-pounders," declared Webb. "And jolly rottenshooting! Sort of can't-hit-a-haystack-at-ten-yards, eh, what?"
Osborne nodded. All the same, he kept the patrol-boat on a zigzagcourse in order to avoid running unnecessary risks. A chance shot,scoring a direct hit, would simply pulverize the lightly built hullof the patrol-boat.
"By Jove!" ejaculated Webb. "What are those fellows doing? They'veabandoned the pursuit."
The stranger was starboarding her helm. Still firing erratically, shewas standing in pursuit of the felucca. The latter, with her enormousfore-yard hoisted half-way (in spite of the assistance of tackles,Smith was unable to raise it another inch), was driving before thesteady breeze on a course almost at right angles to that of thepatrol-boat. Obviously the armed yacht, or whatever she was, had someimportant reason for bearing down upon the insignificant felucca.
"Wireless from _Scragger_ and _Grunter_, sir," reported the operator."Both destroyers coming up at full speed."
"That's good," remarked Osborne, addressing his chum. "We'll nab herright enough. But," he added, after a brief survey of the situation,"why shouldn't we have a cut in? We'll risk it, by Jove we will!"
Round swung No. 0916, listing to an alarming angle under the abruptchange of helm. Then, steadying, she tore off at full speed straightfor her unknown assailant.
Osborne had scored a decided advantage, for, approaching themysterious craft well on her quarter, his boat was immune fromhostile fire. The enemy vessel had quick-firers mounted for'ard only,and could not be brought to bear abaft the beam. Unless she alteredhelm she was powerless to reply to the hail of small yet highlypowerful shells from the patrol-boat.
It was turning the tables with a vengeance. A well-aimed projectiledemolished the enemy's bridge and chart-house. Another started a firefor'ard--probably where the ammunition for the fo'c'sle guns wasplaced on deck, for a series of explosions followed in quicksuccession. Two shells, getting home 'twixt wind and water, gave thestranger her _coup de grâce_, for listing heavily to port she atlength turned completely over. For a few minutes the whole of herkeel was exposed; then, with a muffled roar as the boilers exploded,the hull slid beneath the waves.
In vain No. 0916 searched for survivors. There were none, so swifthad been the destruction of the unknown craft. A few lifebuoys we
rerecovered, but these gave no clue as to her identity.
"Destroyers bearing down, sir," reported one of the bluejackets,while Osborne was directing the operation of taking the felucca intow once more. Pelting along at thirty-three knots, the _Scragger_and _Grunter_ were quickly upon the scene.
"'What the dickens do you mean by wirelessing us?" enquired thegenial Lieutenant-commander of the _Scragger_ with feignedindignation. "You've done the job yourself, and pretty neatly, Ishould imagine."
"You might have been jolly useful," replied Osborne modestly. "It wasjust luck, you see."
"Well, what was the vessel? Do you know her name and nationality?"
"There was nothing to show what she was," replied the skipper of No.0916.
"Then I suppose it will remain a mystery," added theLieutenant-commander of the _Scragger_. "There are some queer cussesof craft knocking around in these waters. Well, we'll take your prizein tow, and you'll be able to keep in company, hands down. 'ThePhantom Buccaneer; or, Blown to Bits by a Pigmy!' Some sort of atitle for a novel, eh?"