The Stolen Cruiser Read online

  Produced by R.G.P.M. van Giesen

  THE STOLEN CRUISER

  "CRASH! A SHELL STRIKING THE BASE OF THE FUNNELREDUCING IT TO ATOMS."_Frontispiece_.] [_Page_ 261.]

  THE STOLENCRUISER

  BY

  PERCY F. WESTERMAN

  AUTHOR OF"THE SEA MONARCH," "THE FLYING SUBMARINE" ETC.

  SANS PEUR ET SANS REPROCHE - logo - L & N]

  _ILLUSTRATED BY__CHARLES NORMAN & J. DE WALTON_

  LONDONJARROLD & SONS, 10 & 11, WARWICK LANE, E.C.

  CONTENTS

  CHAP. I THE "SCRAPPED" CRUISER II THE INTERRUPTED MATCH III THE DESTROYER'S QUEST IV THE OUTRAGE ON THE HIGH SEAS V OVERHAULED VI TRAPPED VII HOLDING THE CONNING-TOWER VIII THE PERIL OF THE VOICE-TUBE IX HOLDING UP "L'?GALIT?" X THE HYDRO-AEROPLANES XI HOKOSUKA'S SLEIGHT-OF-HAND XII THE "DUKE OF NEGROPONT" XIII THE HOSTAGES ARE MADE USE OF XIV THE FORTUNE OF WAR XV RAMMING AN ICEBERG XVI CARDYKE TO THE RESCUE XVII TOUCH AND GO XVIII MUTINY AND A RUSE THAT FAILED XIX CERVILLO DESERTS HIS CREW XX THE RECAPTURE OF THE "INDEPENDENCIA" XXI DRAKE MEETS THE YACHT "SERENA" XXII JUAN CERVILLO KEEPS HIS VOW XXIII FORESTALLED XXIV THE COCKED HAT

  LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

  CRASH! A SHELL STRIKING THE BASE OF THE FUNNEL REDUCED IT TO ATOMS _Frontispiece_

  RIGHT AHEAD CAME A HUGE BATTLE-CRUISER

  A NOOSE WAS ADROITLY THROWN OVER HIS SHOULDERS AND JERKED TIGHT

  THE SHOT CAUGHT THE DECOY-BEARER JUST BELOW THE KNEE

  BEFORE CERVILLO COULD RECOVER FROM HIS ASTONISHMENT HE WAS FLOORED BY THE ATHLETIC SUB

  HALF-A-DOZEN SEAMEN, HEADED BY THE RENEGADE ENGLISHMAN, BURST INTO THE ROOM

  THE PIRATES RUSHED FOR THE BOATS

  AFTER A QUARTER OF AN HOUR'S SUSPENSE THE "INDEPENDENCIA" GAINED THE OPEN SEA

  HE STRUGGLED DESPERATELY TO THROW HIMSELF ONCE MORE INTO THE SEA

  THE STOLEN CRUISER

  CHAPTER I

  THE "SCRAPPED" CRUISER

  IT was half-past eight on a May morning. The sun was obscured in adense haze that the light south-westerly breeze failed to disperse.

  Spithead lay enshrouded in the sea-fog, while from the deck of H.M.torpedo-boat destroyer _Frome_ neither the low-lying land upon whichPortsmouth is built nor the undulating downs of the Isle of Wightwere visible.

  "Boyne Buoy on the starboard bow, sir," reported the look-out.

  "Thanks be!" ejaculated Lieutenant-Commander Douglas Drake to hiscompanion, Sub-Lieutenant Paul Fielding. "I shan't be sorry to turnin."

  The _Frome_ had been out for night-firing off the Medmery Bank, butill-luck in the guise of a fog accompanied her. For hours she cruisedup and down, waiting for the bank of impenetrable haze to lift, whileher consort, the _Calder_, was standing by ready to take the canvastarget in tow.

  It was a nerve-racking job, forging slowly ahead in the fog. In aheavy sea, provided the weather be sufficiently clear to enable theofficer of the watch to pick up the various lights, the discomfort,even when battened down, is nothing compared with the blindwormtactics of keeping steerage way in a shut-in sky of dark grey clammyvapour.

  "By George! It is clearing," exclaimed Fielding. "Surely that isSouthsea Castle ahead."

  "You're right. I only hope the admiral won't order us out to-morrownight."

  "By the mark ten!" shouted the leadsman in the monotonous drawl thatseamen affect when engaged in sounding.

  "Fairly in the channel, thank goodness. How's that for navigation,Mr. Cardyke?" asked the lieutenant, turning to a midshipman who stoodbeside him on the diminutive bridge.

  "Ripping, sir," replied the lad. "I suppose we'll be able to play onFriday?"

  "I hope so," rejoined Drake. "We must bear a hand in licking theSixth Division if it's humanly possible."

  Lieutenant Douglas Drake was well under thirty years of age. Although"frightfully keen" on his duties, and a stickler for naval etiquette,he was at times almost boyish in manner. His chief fault--if fault itmight be termed--was excessive self-confidence. That quality wasundoubtedly an asset in the old lay-alongside-and-board-'em days; butin modern naval tactics, based upon hard and fast scientific lines, ablind reliance upon one's personal qualifications is apt to lead aman into trouble. There are occasions, of course, whenself-confidence has its advantages. But woe-betide the unfortunateindividual who, through blind "cocksureness," jeopardised his commandand failed to achieve his object.

  Drake had influence behind him, and with influence behind him ahare-brained young officer might do certain things with impunity thatwould soon bring him under the ban of official displeasure had he notsomeone of importance to back him. On the other hand, influence tendsto make a man unpopular with his brother officers. Drake realisedthis, and acted accordingly; but although he succeeded to a certainextent in winning the regard of his comrades, he was often the victimof a harmless practical joke whenever the opportunity arose.

  Sub-Lieutenant Paul Fielding was, on the other hand, a cautious man.He had need to be, since he had nothing in the shape of influence athis back. He was a strict disciplinarian, somewhat inclined to beoff-handish at times, yet a true comrade and a loyal supporter of hissuperior officer. Fired by Drake's enthusiasm he began to acquire thebelief that when an opportunity did occur the little _Frome_ wouldacquit herself in a style worthy of the best traditions of theService--and the time was at hand when his capacity was to be triedto the uttermost.

  Arnold Cardyke, the midshipman "lent" to the destroyer, was adark-featured, athletic-looking youth of sixteen. He was slightlyabove middle height, broad-shouldered and deep-chested, and was ashard as the proverbial nail. He was the son of an admiral, whohimself was one of a long line of naval officers--for Cardykes wereto be found in the Royal Navy in a continuous, and often multifold,line from the reign of King William III.

  The young midshipman was doubly anxious for the _Frome_ to bedetained in harbour in order to effect the long outstandingperiodical refit. One reason was that he wanted to go on leave tomeet his brother, who was "paying off" after a two years' commissionon the Pacific Station; the other was that he was exceedingly keen oncricket, and, with the reputation of being one of the best bats inthe First Dartmouth Team, he was regarded as a pillar of strength inthe forthcoming match between the officers of the Fifth and SixthTorpedo-boat Destroyer Flotillas.

  Of course, had there been any special duty to perform on board the_Frome_ Cardyke would have cheerfully foregone both of theanticipated pleasures but, with the exception of the night-firingpractice--which could be performed any time during the forthcomingsix weeks--there was nothing likely to occur.

  Arnold Cardyke was very proud of the honour of being "lent" to the_Frome_, which was one of the very latest "New River" class. She was120 ft. over all, with a turtle-back deck fore and aft, a strikinglyfine entry, and a pointed, cutaway stern. Funnels she had none, beingpropelled by the most up-to-date Diesel motors. At the after end ofthe fore turtle-deck was the gun platform, mounting twoeleven-pounder automatic weapons, so arranged that they could commandan arc of 210 degs. of the horizon, and could be trained to fireskywards up to within 10 degs. of a vertical line.

  Underneath this platform, with the observation holes barely sixinches above the back of the curved deck, was the conning-tower.Above was the "navigating bridge," which could be removed if goinginto action. Here was the slight shelter, called by courtesy thechart-room, and two powerful searchlights.

  Immediately abaft the bridge was a light telescopic mast forsignalling purposes. Wireless "aerials"--always the bugbear of navalofficers while overhead gear was in vogue--had been consigned to thelimbo of the past, and receivers in the wireless r
oom "picked up" themessages with unerring fidelity.

  Abreast the mast were two seven-pounder automatic guns, protectedfrom Maxim fire by light steel shields forming a complete turret.Abaft the mast, and twenty feet from the guns, were the two 21 in.torpedo tubes, taking an improved Whitehead with an effective rangeof five miles. From this point was a clear run of deck-space--savefor the ventilating cowls and hatchways, that could be respectivelyunshipped or battened down should occasion arise--to the afttorpedo-tubes.

  On the poop turtle-back was the supplementary conning-tower, andanother eleven-pounder gun.

  "All out" the _Frome_ could do forty-three knots. With her, speed wasthe primary consideration. To minimise windage every object that itwas possible to construct in that fashion was wedge-shaped--even theshafting of the ventilators, while with her after turtle-back deckthe destroyer could go astern at twenty-one knots without fear ofbeing swept by the waves. She carried a complement of ninety men, ofwhom only fifteen were "engine-room ratings."

  Gradually the fog lifted, till the outlines of Southsea Beach couldbe followed almost as far as the mouth of Portsmouth Harbour; andnow, with her speed increased to a modest ten knots, the destroyerslipped up the fairway against the surging ebb tide.

  Just as the _Frome_ was within a quarter of a mile from the RoundTower, where the entrance of Portsmouth Harbour is barely 250 yds.wide, a burst of sunshine dispersed the last vestige of the fogwithin the sheltered waters, though at Spithead the haze was as thickas ever.

  RIGHT AHEAD CAME A HUGE BATTLE CRUISER. [_Page_ 17.]

  "That's awkward, sir," remarked Fielding. Lieutenant Drake did notreply, but motioning the quartermaster to put the helm over to port,and telegraphing to the engine-room for fifteen knots, noddedsignificantly to his subordinate.

  It was indeed awkward. Flying from the yard-arm of the naval stationof Fort Blockhouse was the signal burgee letter S--a triangular blueand yellow flag--denoting that submarines were either entering orleaving Haslar Lake. From the Semaphore Tower, and from the foremastheads of all the ships in harbour, the Pilot Jack was flying, showingthat one of H.M. ships was under way, and a glance astern showed thatthe second-class cruiser _Vindictive_ was entering.

  Right ahead came a huge battle-cruiser, with a Government tug lashedon either side, and a gaudily painted tug panting ahead with anenormous hawser, and a sister tender puffing decorously astern of theleviathan.

  "That's a bungled bit of work," commented Drake. "She can't go backwith this tide under her; and the _Vindictive_ following us up, too.Pass the word for a warning signal to be sent to the cruiser, Mr.Cardyke. These fellows must be as mad as March hares."

  The increased speed just saved the _Frome_ from being in a very tightcorner, for, hugging the eastern side of the entrance, she gained thebroad expanse of the harbour just as the towed vessel came abeam.

  Still Drake had to keep his full attention on his course; but thesub. and midshipman could devote themselves to the melancholyspectacle--for the _Impregnable_ was on her way to the marineknacker's yard. Her days as an effective unit were judged to be over,and, sold out of the Service, she was on her way to a Dutch port tobe broken up.

  The _Impregnable_ was one of the earlier "Dreadnought cruisers," andin her time held the palm for speed. She was of eighteen thousandtons displacement, and had attained a speed of twenty-six knots. Herarmament consisted of eight 12 in. guns--one pair for'ard, anotherpair aft, and the others _en ?chelon_ amidships--as well as asecondary battery of twenty-five 4 in. quick-firers. She had twotripod masts and three huge funnels.

  Very different the vessel looked from when, a few months previously,she had taken her place in the fleet at Spithead as an effective unitof the British Navy. Her topmasts were "housed," her boats andsecondary armament removed, and her regulation coat of grey paint wasstreaked with rust and dirt. In her barbettes the 12 in. guns stillgrinned menacingly, but their teeth were drawn, their breech-blockshaving been removed previous to sale.

  "Seems like parting with an old friend," remarked the sub to Cardyke,for Fielding had served a commission on board of her. "To my mind,it's a mistake scrapping the older vessels so promptly. It's not mybusiness to say so, of course; but still, that's my opinion."

  "She'd do her little bit even yet," observed Cardyke. "She never hasfired a shot in anger yet, has she?"

  "No," replied the sub. "And she never will. We've seen the last ofthe old _Impregnable_, Cardyke."

  But Sub-Lieutenant Paul Fielding was, for once, at least, hopelesslyout of his bearings.