The Submarine Hunters

By this time the sea was running high. At one moment the whaler would be tossing high upon the rounded crest of a wave, with the other boat deep in the trough. At the next, nothing was to be seen from the whaler save an incline of green water and a canopy of dark-grey sky. On either side the crests were white with foam, yet, thanks to the sea-anchor, hardly a drop of water was taken in over the boats' gunwales.

The men sat in silence, turning their backs to the keen wind. A few who had tobacco smoked. Those who had not were glad to chew the small quantity given them by their more fortunate comrades. As for Ross and Vernon, they were glad to doze, lying on the damp bottom-boards with their heads pillowed on their arms.

Ross was almost asleep when he was aroused by one of the men announcing that a vessel was in sight. At the prospect of rescue, all hands were alert. The man was right, for, as the whaler rose on the crests of the waves, a dark, grey shape could be discerned through the mirk at a distance of about a couple of miles.

Quickly the shape resolved itself into a large four-funnelled cruiser pelting down-Channel at full speed. Unless she altered her course she would pass within a hundred yards of the boats.

"Lash a shirt to the boat-hook, lads!" ordered Ross.

A few moments of intense anxiety followed. Then a groan of disappointment rose from the men as the cruiser ported helm.

She was then a couple of miles to windward. The smoke from her funnels drifted around the boats, making it impossible for the derelict men to see what she was doing, until the evil-smelling haze dispersed, showing the cruiser less than two cables' length away and bearing down towards them.

From her after bridge a seaman was semaphoring vigorously.

"Will slow down to windward of you," read the message.

"Oars, lads!" ordered Ross.

The bowman of each boat promptly cut the painter. With renewed spirit the rowers bent to their work, and soon the boats were alongside and under the lee of H.M.S. Oxford, armoured cruiser of the County class.

By the aid of bowlines the rescued men were quickly hauled over the side. Without delay the Capella's boats were cut adrift, and the cruiser proceeded on her way.

CHAPTER XXII

An Unexpected Capture

"I can see no possibility of landing you at present," said the officer of the watch, after Ross had reported the events that had led up to the rescue of the two boats. "We're under sealed orders. We have to make for a certain rendezvous at full speed. When we arrive we shall know where we are bound for—until then we are quite in the dark. We'll wireless, however, and let the Commander-in-Chief at Portsmouth know that you are safe."

"Have you any news of the Capella?"

"Yes; she was mined while in pursuit of a submarine. It is a dickens of a puzzle to know why, for our sweepers were over there early that morning and never found a single mine. Whatever it was, it was not so powerful as they generally are, for the Capella was able to make for shore and run aground within a few miles of Barfleur. All hands were saved, luckily, but I'm afraid this gale will do for her entirely. It's blowing great guns."

"Then those fellows on the unterseeboot were wrong," remarked Vernon. "They said she had gone down with all hands. We believe that the submarine is a mine-layer, and perhaps it was one of her mines that the old Capella bumped against."

"Let's hope the patrol-vessels will settle her," rejoined the officer of the watch. "But you must be awfully knocked up. I'll introduce you to your new messmates, and they'll give you a shake-down in the steerage flat. The Orontabella's officers can mess with the 'warrants', and the men will be berthed for'ard."

The Lieutenant stepped to the top of the ladder from the navigation bridge. A couple of midshipmen were standing on the superstructure, watching with professional interest the splicing of a six-inch hawser.

"Mr. Sefton!" sang out the officer of the watch.

The midshipman ran up the ladder and saluted.

"Your messmates for the time being," continued the Lieutenant, after he had formally introduced Trefusis and Haye. "They've had a pretty rough time, and they are jolly peckish, I know."

Midshipman Sefton led the two chums below, and piloted them into a very long room on the main deck. It was plainly, nay scantily furnished, and appeared at first sight to be utterly cheerless. Possibly the idea was heightened by the fact that frequently the scuttles were obscured by the seas that slapped viciously against the cruiser's sides.

"This is the gun-room," explained Sefton apologetically. "We've had to clear it out pretty thoroughly, you know. No knick-knacks or pretty-pretties in war time. Sorry the other fellows aren't here. We're four one-stripers, three midshipmen R.N., and five midshipmen R.N.R.—a jolly lively crowd of us, I can assure you."

He touched a bell. A messman appeared.