CHAPTER VI
PICKED UP
"PULL starboard; back port!... Give way together!" orderedLieutenant-Commander Wakefield, as the blunt bows of the U-boatappeared through the dispersing fog-bank.
The men obeyed with a will. Almost in its own length the "tin" dinghyspun round and darted towards the pall of misty vapour. It was adog's chance, and the men realised it, but they were not going tothrow up the sponge without a determined effort to escape.
Alas for the bold resolve! With a rapidity that was little short ofmiraculous for a vessel of her type, the U-boat turned to starboard.Then, with her engines reversed, she brought up dead with her bowswithin an oar's length of the M.L.'s dinghy.
Right for'ard were half a dozen men clad in oilskins. One of thembrandished a long boat-hook.
"Game's up, Fritz," shouted an unmistakable Devonshire voice. "Be yucomin' quiet-like?"
For a moment the men sat dumfounded. Then Wakefield laughedmirthlessly.
"She's one of our new submarines!" he exclaimed. "And we've beenengaging her by mistake. Good heavens, what a proper lash up! Makefast there!"
The bowman threw a coil of rope, and as the boat swung alongside thegiant submarine Wakefield leapt on board, followed by Meredith.
The surprise of M.L. 1071's officers was more than equalled by theconsternation of the skipper of the submarine, who burst out into atorrent of eager questions.
"Then I've sunk you, by Jove!" exclaimed the latter. "How was I toknow? Why the deuce didn't you make your private signal? You firedfirst, you know."
"Admitted," replied Wakefield. "We spotted what we took to be aU-boat and, having had official information that none of oursubmarines was within eighty miles of us, we naturally let rip themoment we sighted you."
He gave a quick glance at the deck and superstructure.
"Any damage?" he asked.
The other smiled grimly.
"Not to us... 'Fraid I cannot congratulate you on the excellence ofyour gunnery. Every shell went overhead handsomely."
The gun-layer of M.L. 1071's six-pounder, overhearing the remark,groaned at the slight upon his marksmanship.
"Sorry I can't return the compliment," observed Wakefield. "Youcaught us a beauty--only it failed to explode or we wouldn't be here.As it is, I've lost my command and sustained a couple of casualties.Rough luck!"
"Rough luck indeed!" rejoined the other sympathetically. "Come belowand have a glass of grog. I'll have your men attended to. We must cutyour boat adrift, I'm afraid."
Meredith followed the two lieutenant-commanders to the littleward-room, which, though small, was not chock-a-block with the usualappendages to a submarine's officers' quarters.
The skipper of the boat threw off his oilskin, revealing a burlyfigure rigged out in the uniform of a lieutenant-commander R.N.R. Inheight he was over six feet, with massive neck and bull-dog features.His face was tanned a deep red that contrasted vividly with hislight-blue eyes and white, even teeth. From the outer corner of hisleft eye to within an inch of the extremity of his jaw-bone ran agreyish scar that tended to accentuate the grim tenacity ofexpression.
"Sit you down," he said, in unmistakably Northumbrian accents. "Astiff peg will pull you fellows together, although the sun's not overthe fore-yard. But let that slide. What's your name?"
Wakefield gave the required information and introduced Meredith tothe burly R.N.R. skipper.
"Morpeth's my tally," announced the latter, in answer to Wakefield'sinquiry: "Geordie Morpeth, or 'Tough Geordie,' as they used to callme when I was first mate in the Foul Anchor Line--them that runscattle boats to Monte Video, you might remember."
"Tough work, eh?" inquired Wakefield.
"You're about right," agreed Morpeth. "Handling a crew of Dagoes andsuch-like takes a bit of doing. My present job is an easy one incomparison."
"What made you go in for the Submarine Service?" asked Meredith.
The bull-necked R.N.R. officer leant back in his chair and laugheduproariously.
"Got you cold, by Jove!" he ejaculated. "Submarine Service--aprecious lot I know about it, 'cept that I know a U-boat when I spother. Leastways, I thought I did until I mistook your hooker forFritz: but you fired on me first, my man. Ha! ha! ha! Submarineindeed!"
"Well, isn't this one?" inquired Wakefield.
"She won't submerge unless a Hun tinfish gets her," replied Morpethoracularly. "And that ain't likely, since Fritz can't distinguishbetween a real U-boat and this old hooker. We're just a decoy."
"Sort of Q-boat?" asked Meredith.
"You've about hit it, old thing," replied the R.N.R. man. "We're justoff to the Heligoland Bight to see if that fish will bite. Excuse myjoke. Hope you're not in a hurry, 'cause you'll have to be shipmatesalong with us for the next fortnight."
"Any old job'll suit me," said Wakefield. "The only thing thattroubles me is how we are to get in touch with the S.N.O., Auldhaig.We'll be posted as missing and all that sort of thing."
"Can't help you there," declared Morpeth. "We don't get in touch withpatrolling craft during this stunt for a very good reason. They'dfire on us at sight long before we could establish our identity."
"Why not wireless?" suggested Meredith.
"We've got a wireless rigged up, but we don't use it except in casesof actual danger," explained Morpeth. "Once we start sending outmessages all our chances go by the board. Fritz might intercept them,and there you are. We'll receive as many as they care to send, and afine old collection we've got. You should see our wireless decoderwith his German signal code-book. That's the way to get a trueinsight into the U-boat campaign. No, gentlemen, it can't be did; butI'll do my level best to make you comfortable. There's a spare bunkin my cabin, Mr. Wakefield, and Mr. Meredith can have a hammock slungin the ward-room. As for grub, there's enough and to spare for allhands."
"Good enough!" exclaimed Wakefield heartily. "Only I hope you've gota job for us?"
"You trust me for that," rejoined the R.N.R. officer grimly.
He glanced at the clock on the after-bulkhead.
"Seven bells," he remarked. "We've spent a solid hour kagging awaywhen we ought to be turned in. It'll be daybreak in another hour.Tired?"
Wakefield and Meredith replied in the negative. The excitement of theunfortunate engagement was still making itself felt, rendering thedesire for sleep impossible.
"Take my tip and turn in," suggested Morpeth. "I'll get the stewardto bring some grub first, and then you'll be all right for the nextfew hours. You'll excuse me, but I must see how things are going ondeck. I've got a ripping officer of the watch, but at the same timethe responsibility is mine."
Picking up his cap, the gold lace and badge of which was green withexposure to the salt spray, Lieutenant-Commander Morpeth left hisinvoluntary guests and went on deck.
"Tough customer," remarked Wakefield. "His nickname is well bestowed.I shouldn't care to fall foul of him."
"A good man for the job, I should imagine," said Meredith, as heproffered his cigarette-case to his superior officer. "Where the Navywould be without the R.N.R. goodness only knows. Those fellows couldcarry on straight away, but we had to be trained--after a fashion. Iremember the first time I tried to bring an M.L. alongside a jetty.There wasn't much tide and hardly any wind, but it took five attemptsbefore I did the trick."
"You were not the only one," said Wakefield reminiscently. "Firsttime I was running at fifteen knots I had the wind up properly. Knewevery article on the Rule of Road and all that sort of thing byheart, but the first lumbering old tramp I met drove the wholeblessed lot out of my head. Scraped her quarter by less'n a yard, an'it might have been worse."
Kenneth puffed thoughtfully at his pipe.
"Rummy war this," he observed. "When you take things intoconsideration----"
"Fog's cleared away, and it's a bright moonlight night," announcedMorpeth, thrusting his head, surmounted by the salt-stained cap andtarnished badge, through the doorway. "Care to come up and have alook round?"
> "Right-o, old thing," replied Wakefield.
Preceded by their host, the M.L. officers ascended the almostvertical steel ladder and gained the deck.
"Mind our tram-lines," cautioned Morpeth, "That's right. Now, what doyou think of the old hooker?"
The Mystery Ship: A Story of the 'Q' Ships During the Great War Page 6
