The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XXIX

  On the North Sea

  The crew of the motor-boat had no great difficulty in finding their waydown the river. The glare on the water, and on the underside of theenormous expanse of smoke overhead, enabled them to see objects aheadwith comparative ease. The actual channel was well defined, at firstby several barges still at anchor in the stream, and later by hundredsof small craft making their way to safety.

  Those who depended mainly upon sail to propel them were quicklyovertaken, for the night was particularly windless and their browncanvas hung idly from the yards. Satisfied with having got beyond thedanger zone, the crews of these fishing-vessels were content to drift,save for the occasional assistance of their heavy sweeps. The deckswere literally packed with refugees, who, glad to have escaped withtheir lives, exhibited an uncanny calmness.

  Reach after reach of the river was passed, as the motor-boat, graduallyworking up power, increased her speed. Astern, the funereal pile ofAntwerp glowed red; it seemed as if the crew could never get beyondsight of it. The spire of the cathedral had vanished beneath thehorizon, but the smoke from the burning city still hung overhead.

  The four occupants of the motor-boat had made their way aft. Thegirls, refusing to go into the cabin, sat on one side of the cockpit,their eyes fixed upon the glare of the fallen port. Rollo, holding hiswounded wrist, shut his jaw tightly and endured the pain. Since hischum made no complaint of his injuries, Rollo grimly decided to keepthe fact that he was wounded from the others. Kenneth, steadying thesteering-wheel with his right hand, had almost forgotten the unpleasantattention of the shrapnel bullet. The sense of responsibilityoutweighed all other considerations.

  "We're across the frontier now," he announced, as the little craftcurtsied to the slight undulations of the comparatively wide expanse ofthe West Scheldt. "Now, girls, which shall it be? Shall I land you onDutch territory, or will you risk crossing the North Sea?"

  Thelma's was a prompt answer.

  "We'll stay with you, boys."

  "Will it be very rough?" asked Yvonne. She had faced the dangers ofthe bombardment bravely, but the perils of a voyage upon the open seain a small, partly-decked craft gave her misgivings that the presenceof her companions failed to keep in check.

  "Smooth as a mill-pond," declared Kenneth optimistically. "There's nowind. We'll have plenty of company on the way, I fancy; and what ismore, the British navy has complete control of this part of the NorthSea. We are doing fifteen knots, I think; that's a little overseventeen miles an hour. We ought to be in sight of the Kentish coasta couple of hours after sunrise."

  "Then I am satisfied," declared Yvonne.

  "That's good! Now, girls, how about a cup of coffee? I can't make it,so perhaps you'll do a good turn. Rollo will light the cabin light andshow you where the fresh water is stored."

  As soon as his three companions had withdrawn to the cabin Kennethclosed the door. The gleam from within dazzled his eyes, and, with somuch traffic about, that would never do. The motor-boat was runningwithout navigation lights. If there were any "steaming" lamps on boardhe had failed to notice them. But the rule of the road seemed to besadly neglected that fateful night. There were vessels of all sizesand rigs making for safety, and not one-tenth of their number showedthe regulation red and green lights.

  Left to himself, Kenneth began to realize once more that his hand wasthrobbing. The flow of blood had entirely ceased, and a dry, burningpain succeeded the comparative ease of the wound while it bled freely.He was desperately hungry and thirsty. For forty-eight hours he hadbeen on short commons. The reaction of the days and nights ofstrenuous activity was beginning to tell.

  The motor-boat, gliding swiftly through the water, had now outstrippedall the fishing luggers. Ahead were three or four steamers making tothe westward. Others, shaping a course for Ostend, had swung away tothe port hand.

  "Rollo!" sang out his chum sharply. "Come and take the helm for aminute."

  "I was just coming," answered Rollo as he emerged from the cabin."There's coffee waiting for you. And the girls have made a rattlinggood job of my wrist," he added, pointing to a neatly-bandaged arm in asling.

  "Follow that vessel," ordered Kenneth, pointing to a steamer a coupleof miles ahead, her stern-light showing brightly in the clear starlitnight. "If you overhaul her, or if there's anything likely to bedangerous, give me the word."

  "One minute," protested Rollo. "The spray's dashing in through thebroken scuttles. I'll try and fix up the strip of canvas. It's longenough to go right round."

  Kenneth waited until his chum had completed the necessary andself-imposed task. Being able to use only one hand, it was adifficult, not to say dangerous, business securing the canvas round theraised cabin-top, for the boat was now jumping considerably.

  "That's done it!" ejaculated Rollo. "Now, old man, down you go. I'llkeep her going somehow."

  "You have been a time, Kenneth," exclaimed his sister reproachfully."Your coffee is getting cold. Why, what's the matter?"

  She broke off her reproaches in alarm, for Kenneth's face was grey anddrawn in the light of the cabin-lamp.

  "Only my hand," announced her brother, with a feeble, ill-disguisedattempt at unconcern as he withdrew the badly-bandaged member from theflap of his coat.

  "What! Are we still under fire?"

  "No; this occurred five or six hours ago. It's a clean wound."

  Gently the two girls attended to the injury. The handkerchief had tobe soaked before it could be withdrawn from the wound. In five minutesthe now experienced young nurses had washed the place with antisepticand had bound it with lint.

  "Right as anything now," declared Kenneth. "I'll have my coffee andget on deck again."

  "You had far better rest," replied his sister; "and Rollo, too, issteering; in spite of his wounded wrist. I'll go and take the wheel;it won't be the first time."

  Kenneth gave in without a protest. He was "about done". Obediently hestretched himself upon one of the cushions of the bunk and closed hiseyes.

  Bidding Yvonne keep a watch on the patient, Thelma donned her cloak andwent out into the cockpit.

  Rollo, too, offered no objections to being relieved of his duty. Thevibration of the wheel, almost unnoticeable under ordinarycircumstances, was causing his wrist intense pain. He handed Thelmathe charge of the helm, told her what course to take, and sat down,admiring, in spite of his physical anguish, the alert, self-possessedgirl as she toyed with the spokes of the wheel with the ease of apractised helmsman.

  "We're up to that vessel, Rollo," she reported, after an hour hadpassed. Owing to her superior speed the motor-boat had rapidly gainedupon the lumbering ten-knot tramp which was now a couple of cablesdistant on the port hand.

  Her companion bestirred himself and went into the cabin.

  "I wouldn't wake Kenneth," he said as he reappeared. "Yvonne tells mehe's quite done up."

  "I wonder you're not, too."

  "I'll make up for it when we get ashore, never fear," declared Rollo."But the point is, we've got to steer a course. Here's the compass,but it's almost like Greek to me. I suppose if we keep due west we'lldo something? There are such things as variation and deviation, but,although I did have a chance, I never troubled to understand them. Iwish I had, now."

  Providentially, for it was now close on high water, the little craftcrossed the dangerous sand-banks that encumber the Scheldt entrancewithout any of her crew realizing the risk they were running. Oncethey encountered "overfalls" of rather broken water on the tail of abank; but, with nothing worse than a couple of waves breaking inboard,the motor-boat gained the comparatively smooth water beyond.

  Grey dawn was now breaking. All around was an unbroken expanse of seaand sky. Not a vessel or a buoy of any description was in sight. Forthe first time Rollo was able to form some idea of the vastness of theNorth Sea.

  Bestirring himself, he examined the petrol-gauge and the quantity ofoil in the automatic
lubricator reservoirs. The consumption of bothhad not been excessive, and the motor was running like clockwork.

  "It's getting very misty," said Thelma.

  "By Jove, it is!" assented her companion. "I hope it won't come on anythicker. Are you cold? Let me take the wheel again."

  The girl shook her head.

  "I'm quite all right," she declared. "I am enjoying it. How muchfarther is it, do you think?"

  It was Rollo's turn to shake his head. He did not know, and he was toocandid to pretend that he did.

  "We ought to be meeting shipping in and out of the Thames estuaryshortly," he said. "I suppose our merchant vessels sail as freely asthey did before the war? Hello! There's something coming up astern."

  He pointed to a faint blurr of smoke about three miles away and dead inthe wake of the motor-boat.

  "Something fairly fast to be able to overtake us," remarked Thelma."Is there a telescope on board?"

  "I'll see," answered Rollo.

  Again he entered the cabin. Kenneth was still sound asleep. Yvonnewas seated on the opposite bunk, watching him as zealously as avigilant sentry.

  "What are you looking for, Rollo?" she whispered.

  "A telescope."

  She arose and, steadying herself by means of the cabin table, made herway to the for'ard bulkhead. Drawing back a curtain, she took down therequired article from a rack.

  "It is a nurse's duty to become quickly acquainted with hersurroundings," she said with a smile, as she handed Rollo the telescope.

  The lad returned to the cockpit. Standing with his back against theafter bulkhead of the cabin he raised the telescope. It was some time,owing to the motion of the boat, before he could get the instrument tobear.

  "I must rouse Kenneth," he said calmly.

  "Why?" asked Thelma. "Tell me: is there anything wrong? I will not befrightened."

  "There is, I fear," he answered. "Unless I am very much mistaken,yonder craft is a German torpedo-boat, and she is standing in pursuitof us."

  CHAPTER XXX

  The Victorious White Ensign

  "Kenneth, old man, wake up!"

  Everest opened his eyes listlessly. Aroused in the midst of the sleepof utter exhaustion, he did not at once realize his surroundings.

  "What's up?" he asked drowsily, with a suspicion of resentment in hisvoice.

  "Come out into the cockpit," said Rollo. "I want you to see if we areon the right course. We passed the tramp steamer some time ago."

  "Then why didn't you call me?" demanded Kenneth, displayingconsiderable alacrity, and making a dash for the cabin door.

  "Stay here a little longer, Yvonne," said Rollo to the Belgian girl asshe began to follow her patient. The lad's chief anxiety was to keepher in ignorance of the new danger that threatened them.

  "Right as rain," announced Kenneth, glancing at the compass.

  "Look astern, old man," said his chum in a low voice. "I didn't wantto alarm Yvonne. Thelma knows, though. That torpedo-boat coming uphand over fist is a German."

  "Never!" ejaculated Kenneth. The idea of a war vessel flying theKaiser's black-cross ensign on the high seas seemed incredible.

  "Fact," rejoined Rollo. "Take this telescope."

  "You're right, by Jove!" exclaimed Kenneth after a brief survey. "Wemust carry on as long as we can. If they fire at us we must stop, forthe sake of the girls."

  The motor was running at its utmost possible number of revolutions, yetthe boat was no match for the grey-painted craft now a mile and a halfastern.

  The German torpedo-boat made no sign of firing; she merely hung ondoggedly in the wake of the motor-craft, slowly yet surely diminishingthe distance between them. The haze had now lifted considerably, sothat the range of vision extended for quite five miles. All around,save for the pursuing craft, the horizon was unbroken.

  "Perhaps those chaps think that their rotten spy, Jules de la Paix, ison board," suggested Rollo. "They may have a prearranged plan to pickhim up at sea."

  "Should hardly think so," replied Kenneth. "It would have been easierfor him to have run across to Dutch territory, if he hadn't the heartto remain at Antwerp during the bombardment. If that's whom they'reafter they'll be jolly disappointed."

  "They'll spot our uniforms, if they haven't already done so," saidRollo. "I wish the beggars would be stopped by a submarine."

  Kenneth did not reply. Seized by an inspiration, he grasped one of thetwo boat-hooks on deck, released it from its lashings, and tossed itoverboard.

  "What have you done that for?" asked his chum.

  Kenneth pointed to the staff of the boat-hook. Weighted down by thegun-metal head, it was bobbing up and down in a vertical position someyards astern.

  "That may give them a bit of a shock," he explained. "They may thinkit's a periscope of a submarine."

  "It's much too small."

  "Not when there are no means of comparing it with anything else. Lookat it now. You couldn't say with certainty within a hundred yards howfar it is away. Anyhow, we'll chance it."

  The German torpedo-boat had hoisted four signal-flags to hercross-yards. They were blowing out in a fore-and-aft direction.

  "Can't make them out," declared Kenneth, "and wouldn't understand themif I did. Now, watch."

  Suddenly two spurts of flame burst from the deck of the pursuing boat.Shells from her three-pounder quick-firers pitched a short distance onher starboard side. Simultaneously the torpedo-boat swung round.Travelling at twenty-seven knots, the sudden porting of her helm causedher to heel outwards till her deck was almost awash.

  "By Jove, she's rammed our boat-hook!" shouted Kennethenthusiastically. "If ever she gets back to port, won't she pitch ayarn about ramming and sinking a British submarine!"

  The lad was not wrong in his surmise, for the torpedo-boat slowed downand made a complete circle, steaming over the spot where she imaginedthe periscope to have been. Luckily the ruse was not discovered, for achance shot had shattered the boat-hook staff and had sent the weightedend to the bottom; while, on the other hand, the motor-boat had gainedat least two miles on her pursuer.

  "It's worth while throwing our remaining boat-hook overboard," saidRollo. "I don't suppose we'll want it in any case."

  The German torpedo-boat had now resumed the pursuit. Obviously fearingthe presence of other submarines she kept a zigzag course, altering herhelm every five minutes in order to confuse the aim of a possibletorpedo-gunner. Consequently, although she still overhauled herquarry, the distance between them lessened with perceptible slowness.

  Ten minutes from the time of resuming her course the torpedo-boat firedher bow gun. The plugged shell, purposely aimed wide, threw up acolumn of spray a hundred yards from the motor-boat's port quarter.

  The lads exchanged glances. Kenneth leant forward and switched off theignition.

  "Hard lines!" he ejaculated. "If it weren't for the girls----"

  While the boat still carried way he put the helm hard over, until herbows pointed in the direction of her captor. Dejectedly the crewawaited the arrival of the torpedo-boat, wondering what course theGermans would pursue.

  "Look!" exclaimed Thelma, excitedly pointing to the hostile craft.

  The sight that met their gaze was an inspiring one. From somewhere ata great distance away a shell had hurtled through the air. Strikingthe water within twenty yards of its objective, the missile hadricochetted, and had shattered the torpedo-boat's foremost funnel.

  Another and another followed in quick succession, both bursting overthe deck of the doomed vessel.

  The Germans replied, firing with great vigour, but the crew of themotor-boat could form no idea of what they were firing at or the resultof their efforts. In five minutes the torpedo-boat was badly holedfor'ard and making water fast.

  "The cowardly skunks!" exclaimed Kenneth, frantically restarting themotor. The epithet was justifiable, for the commander of thetorpedo-boat was endeavouring to use the little motor-boat as a
screenfrom her enemy's fire.

  Owing to the already crippled condition of the German craft, Kennethcould easily out-manoeuvre her. In spite of the risk of a shell fromthe exasperated Teuton, he kept his vessel about half a mile from thetorpedo-boat and awaited the inevitable ending.

  It was not long in coming. Torn by the well-aimed shells, her mast,funnels, and deck fittings swept clean away, the torpedo-boat settleddown. From amidships a cloud of black smoke, tinged with lurid flames,soared skywards. Men were pouring up from the engine-room and throwingthemselves into the sea.

  The other craft had ceased firing. She was coming up quickly, andcould now be distinguished as a British E-class destroyer.

  Suddenly the doomed vessel gave a roll to starboard, flung her stern inthe air, and with her triple propellers racing madly, disappeared fromsight, leaving a heavy pall of smoke to mark the spot when she sank.

  "We must pick up those fellows," announced Kenneth, pointing to abouttwenty heads bobbing in the water. "I'll slow down as close as I can.Mind your wrist, Rollo."

  Three minutes later all the crew of the motor-boat were busily engagedin hauling half-drowned, and for the most part wounded, German seameninto their craft, till eleven men, the sole survivors of the lucklesstorpedo-boat, were rescued.

  "You Belgians?" asked one, in broken French, when he saw the lads'uniforms. "Good! We surrender to you."

  "You'll be transferred to that vessel," said Kenneth, pointing to thenow close British destroyer.

  "No, they will shoot us," exclaimed the terrified man.

  "Nonsense!" replied Kenneth. "British seamen are not like----" He wason the point of saying "Germans", but pulled himself up and added"pirates".

  Nevertheless the German seamen were not easily reassured. Theirofficers had impressed upon them that the British navy took noprisoners, and they firmly believed it.

  "Motor-boat ahoy! What craft is that?" sang out a lieutenant, as theBritish destroyer reversed her engines and came to a standstill at herown length from the little vessel. It was a grand, inspiring sight tothe refugees to see the White Ensign floating proudly from themast-heads of the destroyer. Practically untouched in her duel withher antagonist, she looked as spick and span as when she firstcommissioned at Chatham Dockyard, only a week previously.

  "We're British in the Belgian service: refugees from Antwerp," repliedKenneth.

  "We thought you were one of our Motor-boat Reserve craft indifficulties," said the officer. "Luckily we heard the firing, andclosed to investigate. We'll take charge of your prisoners; can yourun alongside?"

  Stalwart bluejackets, stripped to their singlets, and grimy stokerscrowded to the stanchion rails to watch the transhipment of thecaptured Germans.

  "Do you want a passage back to Sheerness?" asked the lieutenant.

  "If you wouldn't mind taking my sister and her friend," repliedKenneth, "we'll stick to the motor-boat."

  "But you're both wounded," exclaimed the officer. "Come aboard, all ofyou. We'll make you as comfortable as we can, considering we arecleared for action."

  "But the boat?" protested Kenneth; for, having carried them so far, itseemed hard lines that she would have to be abandoned.

  "Don't worry about that," said the lieutenant. "I'll put an artificerand a couple of men aboard, and let them run her into the Medway."

  The genial officer courteously assisted Thelma and Yvonne over theside. Rollo followed with a fair amount of agility, considering hisdisabled wrist. Lastly Kenneth left his first command.

  As he gained the corticened decks of the destroyer he pulled himself upand thankfully saluted the diminutive quarter-deck, on which floatedthe White Ensign--the emblem of freedom. Then a grey mist swam beforehis eyes and he felt himself falling.

  * * * * *

  Two days later there was a happy reunion at an hotel at Sheerness.Summoned by telegraph, all the members of the Barrington and Everestfamilies who were not employed on active service hastened to welcomehome their young heroes. With them came Major Resimont, now well onthe road to recovery, and for the time being a guest of Mr. Everest.

  "I should think you lads have had enough of this terrible war,"remarked Mrs. Everest at the conclusion of their narrative.

  "We've only seen the beginning," declared Kenneth gravely. "As soon asthis little hurt of mine has healed, I want to go back."

  "And I too," added Rollo.

  Colonel Barrington flushed with pride.

  "Of course," he said, "it ought to be a fairly simple matter,considering your experience, to get a commission. It is merely a caseof applying to the War Office."

  "And undergoing six months' training at home, pater?"

  "Presumably."

  "By that time the war may be over," said Kenneth. "In any case we willbe out of it for six months. What do you say, Rollo?"

  "We've put our hand to the plough, old man. I vote, as soon as we areable, we rejoin our old regiment. The 9th of the Line is now betweenOstend and Nieuport, sir?"

  "I believe so," replied Major Resimont.

  "Then that settles it, unless our people raise serious objection,"declared Kenneth resolutely. "As long as we have health and strengthwe will take our places with our comrades of the 9th, until Belgium isfreed from the grey-clad troops of Germany."

  BLACKIE'S STORIES OF SCHOOL LIFE

  _Illustrated. In attractive wrapper_

  By RICHARD BIRD

  Trouble at Wyndham. Boys of Dyall's House. Captain of Keynes. Dawson's Score. Thanks to Rugger. The Moreleigh Mascot. Carton's Cap. Play the Game, Torbury! The Big Five at Ellerby. Touch and Go.

  By ALFRED JUDD

  Forrester's Fag. Derry of Dunn's House.

  By R. A. H. GOODYEAR

  Tom at Tollbar School. Forge of Foxenby.

  By WALTER RHOADES

  Jimmy Cranston's Crony. The Whip Hand. Two Scapegraces.

  George Goes One Better. Jeffrey Havilton. Godfrey Gets There. Arthur O. Cooke. On the Ball. Sydney Horler. George Pulls It Off. Jeffrey Havilton. Planter Dick. Arthur O. Cooke. Barnston's Big Year. Michael Poole. Harold Comes to School. Jeffrey Havilton. Out of School. Jeffrey Havilton. The Captain of Stannard's. Michael Poole.

  BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS

  _Crown 8vo. Illustrated_

  Sleuths of the Air. Percy F. Westerman. On Secret Service. Ralph Arnold. Binkie of IIIB. Evelyn Smith. A Madcap Brownie. Sibyl B. Owsley. Septima at School. Evelyn Smith. The Corsair of the Skies. Guy Vercoe. Seven Sisters at Queen Anne's. Evelyn Smith. Hope's Tryst. Bessie Marchant. Held at Ransom. Bessie Marchant. Smuggler's Luck. Frank Charleston. Dispatch Riders. Percy F. Westerman. The Little Betty Wilkinson. Evelyn Smith. The Disappearing Dhow. Percy F. Westerman. The Good Ship "Golden Effort". Percy F. Westerman. Barbara at School. Josephine Elder. Biddy and Quilla. Evelyn Smith. A Lively Bit of the Front. Percy F. Westerman. Pam and the Countess. E. E. Cowper. Rounding Up the Raider. F. Bayford Harrison. A Lad of Grit. Percy F. Westerman. The Liveliest Term at Templeton. Richard Bird. Dr. Jolliffe's Boys. Lewis Hough.

  _Printed in Great Britain_