CHAPTER XXVII.
"MEPHISTO" AND THE SUBMARINE.
"GOOD business! Now there's a chance of seeing life!" exclaimedLieutenant Aubyn.
"I should have thought you have been seeing plenty of life already,Terence," remarked his mother, with a faint tinge of reproachfulness,"and death also," she added.
"Ay, and death," agreed Terence. "Unfortunately, yes; but it's partof the work. It was the future to which I was referring. Fancy,mother, a real cruiser at last--not an armed merchantman, nor adestroyer, although I'll admit I had a real good time in the'Terrier'--but a modern cruiser."
Terence's appointment had arrived in the form of an Admiraltytelegram, ordering him to join H.M.S. "Sunderland" as soon aspossible.
H.M.S. "Sunderland" was a light cruiser of the "Town" Class, a vesselof a little over 5000 tons displacement, and armed with eight 6-in.guns, four 3-pounders, and two submerged 21-in. torpedo tubes. Herspeed was nominally 25 knots, but this rate had been considerablyexceeded when conditions called for her to do her level best.
Accordingly, within four hours of receiving his appointment, Terencebade his parent farewell and proceeded by rail to Devonport, wherethe "Sunderland" was lying. It was nearly dark when he alighted atMillbay station. Here he called a taxi and was whirled off to theDockyard, whence a picquet boat conveyed him to the cruiser, whichwas lying at a buoy in the Hamoaze.
"We're off under sealed orders at six o'clock tomorrow morning,"announced one of his new shipmates, a junior lieutenant, TeddyBarracombe by name. "Of course, we are quite in the dark, but there'sa strong idea floating around that the ship's off to the Near East.Just my mark! According to all accounts we'll be pretty busy in theDardanelles."
"That's all very fine for you," commented Oswestry, the torpedolieutenant, "but where do I come in? We can't use torpedoes againstfortifications, you know, and there's precious little floating aboutfor us to go for."
"Don't take on, Torps," said Barracombe cheerfully. "You never knowyour luck. Wait and see."
"I'd rather t'were the other way about," corrected Torps. "Seeingyour torpedo leave the tube and waiting for the enemy ship to beblown up. No Dardanelles for me. So I hope to goodness it's the NorthSea. By Jove, I do!"
As soon as the "Sunderland" was clear of the breakwater the momentousorders were opened. It was not to the Near East; the cruiser had toproceed to Dover and await further instructions.
All the way up Channel a rigorous watch was maintained, for hostilesubmarines had made their presence unpleasantly felt off PrawlePoint, the Bill of Portland, and south of the Royal SovereignLightship. The cruiser pelted under forced draught, steering azig-zag course in order to baffle the carefully-planned calculationsof the lurking tigers of the deep, while the guns were manned andtrained abeam ready to be laid upon the first suspicious objectresembling a periscope.
Being the first day of the month the ship's company was to be paid,and soon after six bells final preparations for the solemn rite werein progress.
At a quarter to one two "G's"--the officers' call--sounded, and thefirst hundred men, mustering by open list, assembled in the PortBattery. On the quarter-deck tables were placed in position, on eachof which were teak trays divided into small compartments by brassstrips. In each of these divisions a man's monthly pay and allowancemoney had already been placed and checked by the paymaster and hisstaff.
Owing to the conditions of war-time the captain was not present, hisduty of superintending the payment being taken by the commander. Atthe tables stood the staff-paymaster, the R.N.R. assistant-paymaster,and the chief writer.
The staff-paymaster glanced at the commander, indicating that all wasin readiness. The commander gave the word to carry on, and thedisbursing of coin began.
The assistant-paymaster called the men's names from a book. Eachseaman stepped briskly forward to the chalk line, removed his cap,and, according to instructions, looked the accountant officersquarely in the face and gave his name and rating. Then, receivinghis money in the crown of his cap, the recipient saluted and movedaway to make room for the next man.
All was proceeding smoothly and with the regularity of clockwork whensuddenly a diversion occurred.
The ship's company had a mascot in the shape of a young Africanmonkey, that had been presented to the "Sunderland" by a Frenchcruiser during a visit to an Algerian port. Although usuallygood-tempered "Mephisto" could and did exhibit fits of sulkiness andoutbursts of insubordination that would have earned a lower deck manninety days' "confined to detention quarters." But the monkey being asort of chartered libertine, was idolized by the ship's company andmildly tolerated by the officers.
Mephisto was lazily sunning himself under the lee of the quarter-deck6-in gun shield when his eye caught sight of the chief writer'ssilver watch, which that petty officer had occasion to consult.
Probably the monkey imagined that it was one of the tins of condensedmilk for which he had great partiality.
Getting on his four feet Mephisto ambled across the quarter-deck,past the line of men drawn up at attention. Before he could cross thechalk line, a symbol for which he had no respect, the chief writerhad replaced his timepiece.
Foiled in that direction the monkey made a grab at a pile of brandnew copper coins, and before any of the officers and men couldprevent, had made a rush for the weather-shrouds.
"Stop him!" yelled the commander.
A dozen men hastened to comply, jolting against each other in theiralacrity to pursue the animal, which with marvellous agility hadgained the extremity of the signal yard-arm.
Here he perched, hanging on with his hind paws while he tasted eachcoin with his teeth--at first with an expression of hopefulness uponhis features that rapidly changed into one of profound disgust.
Holding the rest of the coins against his chest Mephisto hurled oneon to the sacred precincts of the quarter-deck. It landed in one ofthe compartments of the pay-table, displacing a sovereign, thatrolled between the staff-paymaster and the assistant-paymaster.
Both officers simultaneously stooped to recover the errant piece ofgold. The result was that their heads met with a thud in spite of theprotection afforded by their peaked caps.
Several of the men could not conceal a grin. One broke into a laugh,and meeting the stern glance of the commander tried to side-trackinto a painful cough.
Fortunately for the culprit the commander was inwardly affected by asimilar complaint, for he, too, saw the humour of the business.
"Confound you!" shouted the staff-paymaster, removing his cap andrubbing his bald head. "Confound you, you brute! Throwing away themoney from the public chest!"
The only reply from Mephisto was another penny that, thrown withsplendid aim, rebounded from the staff-paymaster's shiny pate.
"The ship's company will have to make up the loss," he muttered."They're responsible for their confounded pet."
"But you're responsible for the money, Staggles," remarked thecommander drily. "At any rate, Mephisto is paying you back byinstalments."
It wanted all the self-control at their command to keep the lookoutmen's attention from the comic scene to a duty of a serious nature,while the gun's crews temporarily forgot their duties to watch theencounter between the mascot and the staff-paymaster.
"Catch it--oh, you rotten butterfingers!" groaned the accountantofficer to the assistant-paymaster, who, missing a coin thrown by theanimal, allowed the sum of one penny to be committed to the deep."Here, ship's steward, nip below and open a tin of condensed. Thatmay tempt the brute below."
"You're condoning an offence, Staggles," said the commander in anundertone, with a humorous gleam in his eye.
Another coin tinkled on the deck. The commander promptly placed hisfoot on it to check its career towards the side.
"Where did that go?" asked the staff-paymaster, who, curiouslyenough, had a miserly regard for any money except his own, which hespent liberally.
The commander shifted his foot and pointed to the retrieved coin; ashe did so
, another penny, hurtling through the air, hit him smartlyon his bent neck and promptly slithered inside his collar and downhis back.
Unfortunately the commander was a man of a most ticklish temperament.The contact of the metal disc with his back caused him to writhe likea lost soul in torment. He had recently unflinchingly faced death ina hotly-contested engagement in the North Sea, but this rear attackcompletely unnerved him. His grotesque efforts to capture the elusivecoin was too much for the rest of the officers and men. They wereunable to conceal their amusement. Finally the commander dived downbelow and divested himself of his uniform.
Just then the ship's steward appeared with the tin of condensed milk,and handed the unopened can to a seaman. Away aloft the man made hisway till he gained the cross-trees. Owing to the "Sunderland"altering her course she was swinging considerably to starboard, andthe motion made the man advance cautiously, his feet sliding alongthe foot-ropes while he held on grimly with his free hand to thespar.
Mephisto eyed the approaching delicacy with marked approval. Lettingthe remaining coins drop, some of which tinkled on deck although mostof them fell overboard, he whisked along the yard-arm, and before theseaman realized the brute's intention, snatched the can from hisgrasp.
A snarl warned the bluejacket that if he advanced it would be at hisperil, and unwilling to risk an encounter with an agile monkey on theswaying yard, he followed the precept of discretion being the betterpart of valour, and regained the deck, leaving the spoils in thehands of the elated ape.
Presently the monkey had another disappointment. The intact tinbaffled him. He tried his teeth upon it--but unavailingly, so hebegan to batter it upon the metal eye of a band encircling the spar.
"There'll be an unholy mess, by Jove!" ejaculated the commander, whohad now reappeared upon the scene, for the tin showed signs ofcapitulating to the strenuous frontal attacks on the part ofMephisto.
"Bring up another tin--and take care to open it this time," orderedthe staff-paymaster recklessly, who had now taken the precaution ofcovering the pay-tables with a green baize cloth.
"Bang, bang, bang!" went the tin under the muscular efforts ofMephisto. Already large drops of the viscous fluid were descendingupon the hallowed quarter-deck, bespattering officers and menindiscriminately, for owing to the ship's speed a strong current ofair was drifting aft and spraying the stuff far and wide.
"Clear the quarter-deck," ordered the commander. "Up aloft a coupleof hands and collar the brute. By Jove! if it gives much moretrouble, I'll have it shot."
Suddenly, above the scuffling of feet as the men doubled for'ard,came the shout: "Submarine on the port quarter."
Sharply the bugle sounded "Action," and as the "Sunderland" began tocircle to starboard in answer to a quick movement of her helm, thequick-firers began to bark at a pole-like object four hundred yardsoff.
The unexpected detonation, as a gun was discharged fifty feet underhis nose, completed Mephisto's brief spell of unalloyed liberty.Temporarily stunned by the terrific concussion the monkey relaxed hisgrip and fell.
Just at that moment the staff-paymaster, who was scurrying below withone of the pay-trays, happened to be passing in the direct line ofMephisto's descent. The next instant the portly officer was rollingon the deck in a puddle of condensed milk with the monkey's pawsclutching at his scanty crop of hair, while to complete thestaff-paymaster's discomfiture most of the money he was carryingrolled overboard.
Regaining his feet Staff-paymaster Staggles contrived to reach thecompanion, and with Mephisto still firmly attached to him,disappeared below.
But the men's attention was now directed towards more seriousmatters. An ever-diverging line that rippled the placid water denotedthe approach of a deadly torpedo. Now it was heading as if about tohit the bows of the "Sunderland," a second later and the arrow-likeripples seemed to be approaching directly abeam; then, as the cruiserswung almost on her heel the wake of the formidable missile wasmerged into the churning froth astern. It had missed by a bare yard.
From the fire-control platform telephone bells were clanging and menshouting through the voice-tubes. From their elevated position thewatchers could discern a long, dark shadow that marked the positionof the submarine.
Completely circling the "Sunderland" was steadied on her helm andsteered straight for the spot. In vain the submerged craft attemptedto dive to a depth greater than that of her enemy's draught.
Terence, who was stationed on the after-bridge, felt a faint shock asthe five thousand tons vessel literally cut the luckless submarine intwain. For a brief instant the lieutenant caught sight of theafter-portion of the "U" boat, as, rendered buoyant by the trappedair, it drifted past. Then amidst a smother of foam and oil thewreckage vanished.
"The eleventh to my certain knowledge," remarked the commander, ascoolly as if he were reckoning up the score at an athletic meeting.
"Any damage for'ard, Mr. Black?"
"No, sir; all as tight as a bottle as far as I can see," replied thecarpenter, who immediately after the impact had hurried below to seeif any plates had been "started."
A little later in the afternoon several of the ward-room officerswere enjoying their cups of tea and biscuits, when thestaff-paymaster entered.
"Well, Staggles, what's the shortage?" asked the commanderfacetiously.
The accountant officer eyed his tormentor reproachfully, as if thatofficer were responsible for his former discomfiture.
"One pound three shillings and threepence--and two tins of condensedmilk," he announced stiffly. "According to paragraph 445 of theAdmiralty Instructions there will have to be two separate reports onthe shortage."
The staff-paymaster spoke seriously. The man was heart and soul inhis work, and his mental horizon was bounded by official forms andother red-tapeism connected with the accountant branch of H.M.Service.
"By the by," interposed Oswestry, "Staggles ought to be recommendedfor the V.C."
"What's that, Torps?" asked Barracombe. "Our staff-paymaster theV.C.?"
"What for?" inquired the staff-paymaster innocently.
The commander entrenched himself behind a double number of anillustrated periodical.
"For bringing Mephisto in out of action," he replied with a chuckle.