CHAPTER XVIII

  The Difference of a Dot

  "Hello, Sparks; you look a bit off colour?"

  This was Dr. Selwyn's greeting as Mostyn, having handed over the watchto Plover, walked into the doctor's cabin.

  "I feel it, Doc," replied Peter. "Touch of the old complaint--malaria."

  Selwyn had detected the symptoms the moment the Wireless Officer showedhis face inside the door. Peter was trembling violently. He wasfeeling horribly cold, and his head was aching badly.

  "Taken any quinine?" asked the medical man.

  "Yes," was the reply. "My ears are buzzing already."

  "Then turn in," ordered Selwyn. "I'll make you up a draught. Keep aswarm as you jolly well can. This will make you perspire freely beforemidnight, and you'll be fit by this time to-morrow."

  Peter waited while the doctor made up the medicine, and then staggeredto his cabin, where Mahmed, greatly concerned, helped his master intobed and piled blankets and a bridge-coat upon his shivering body.

  It was now one bell in the first dog watch.

  At two bells Peter was still awake and trembling with cold spasms whenWatcher Plover hurriedly entered the cabin.

  Plover had no idea that Mostyn was down with malaria, and it was notunusual for him to find Peter lying on his bunk when off duty.

  "Call for the ship, sir," he reported. "No bloomin' error this time.SVP as sure's my name's Plover."

  Mostyn kicked off the blankets and rolled out of the bunk. Hestaggered as he stood up, and would have been glad of Plover'sassistance. But the Watcher, having delivered his message, had goneback to his post.

  With a terrific buzzing in his ears Peter almost dragged himself alongthe alleyway and up the bridge-ladder. Many a time he had regrettedthe absence of a second wireless officer. Now, above everything, hewanted an efficient substitute; but, of course, none was available.

  Entering the wireless-cabin, he picked up the telephones and gave theacknowledgment. Then, a pencil in his trembling hand, he waited forthe text of the message to come through:

  "SW. TLB. FEW. CNI. TLXQ. VP AELD TNI PU. AEMQ".

  Yes, Peter had that all right, but, ever on the cautious side, he askedfor the message to be repeated.

  "Here you are," he said, handing the duplicate message to hisassistant. "Nip off with that to Captain Bullock."

  "Don't you look rummy, sir?" remarked Plover, noting for the first timeMostyn's drawn features.

  "Am a bit," admitted Peter. "I'll be all right by the morning. Skipalong."

  Watcher Plover "skipped along" at his usual stolid pace to the OldMan's cabin, while Peter, almost incapable of controlling his tremblinglimbs, somehow contrived to regain his bunk.

  "Signal just come through, sir," reported Plover, as he handed thepencilled form to the skipper.

  "All right," replied the Old Man brusquely. "Hand me that book; thesecond on the left. That'll do, carry on."

  It did not take Captain Bullock long to decode the message, but a frownof perplexity spread over his forehead as he read the momentous words.

  Then he rang the bell and ordered Plover to return.

  "Who received this?" he asked.

  "Mr. Mostyn, sir; he had the signal repeated."

  "All right. You may go."

  The assurance that the Wireless Officer had personally taken down thecode message removed all doubts from Captain Bullock's mind.

  "Mr. Preston," he sang out.

  "Ay, ay, sir,"

  "Fresh orders," announced the Old Man. "Here you are: 'I have receivedtelegraphic instructions from your owners for you to proceed straightto Bulonga, where you will unload steelwork, proceeding thence to PortSudan'. Bring me the chart of the Mozambique coast, Preston, and let'ssee where we are--and the sailing directions while you are about it."

  The Acting Chief hastened to fetch the required articles.

  "Bulonga--that's in Mozambique," commented the Old Man. "What theblazes the Kilba Protectorate people want to have the steelwork dumpedthere for goodness only knows. However, it's my place to carry outinstructions, Mr. Preston."

  "Ay, ay, sir," concurred the Acting Chief without enthusiasm. He hadno love for the Portuguese East African ports. A long spell theremeant mosquitoes; mosquitoes meant malaria and other evils in itstrain. And there was simply nothing to see or do in these ports.Preston had "had some" before to-day.

  "They give no reason for the alteration, sir?" he inquired. "I supposeby any chance we haven't got the signal incorrectly?"

  "No reason, Mr. Preston," replied Captain Bullock. "And here is thesignal in duplicate. Mostyn took that precaution, so I can stake myboots on its accuracy."

  The two officers spent some time in poring over the chart and readingup the description of Bulonga harbour and its approaches, as set downin the Admiralty sailing directions for the east coast of Africa.

  "It'll be a tight squeeze for our draught," commented the skipper."It'll mean a Portugee pilot, worse luck. I know those gentry of old.I hope there's a British agent there to take over the BrocklingtonCompany's consignment."

  Had Captain Bullock known that Peter was down with a severe bout ofmalaria he would not have wagered his footgear so readily, for Mostynhad made a mistake in taking in the signal. More, he had duplicatedthe mistake when he received the repetition at his own request.

  With his head buzzing like a high-pressure boiler Peter had read D(--..) for B (--...), his temporarily disordered sense of hearingfailing to detect the slight but important difference.

  Consequently, instead of the _West Barbican_ shaping a course forRangoon, which in the code signal appeared as AELB, she was making forthe comparatively unimportant harbour of Bulonga (AELD).

  The while Ludwig Schoeffer's seven-day watch was silently ticking outthe seconds, minutes, and hours in the _West Barbican's_ baggage hold.The German agent was sublimely ignorant of the change in the ship'splans. He was still at Durban, awaiting the news that the _WestBarbican_ was overdue and believed missing. He would have beenconsiderably surprised had he known that there was every likelihood ofthe ship sinking in Bulonga Harbour, where at low tide she would havebarely enough water to lie alongside the quays.

  If he had only known the vital difference that the omission of a "dot"in the spurious signal was to cause!

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels