CHAPTER VI
The Yacht "Titania"
"I say, Sir Hugh is a thundering good sort, old man," observed Beverley.
"Only just found that out, my dear old thing," rejoined Villiers. "What's the wheeze now?" The two chums were "turning in". They shared a room in Thalassa Towers, the rest of the members of the expedition being accommodated in twos and threes in the spacious old building. The appropriation of "cabins", as they preferred to call them, showed Harborough's tact, the various members being invited to share their sleeping-quarters with their special chums.
Claverhouse had elected to share a room with little Trevear on the score that both were ex-members of that modern and glorious branch of the service—the Royal Air Force. There they could talk unlimited "shop ", and exchange reminiscences without feeling that the a-naval men were being "bored stiff" with matters appertaining to aerial navigation.
"The wheeze," replied Beverley, "concerns my young brother, Dick. Sir Hugh suggested that I brought him along. He'd be handy," he added in extenuation.
"Possibly," replied Villiers. "But if this is going to be a risky business, is it fair on the lad? And, again, won't it cut into his education?"
"We went into those questions," said Bobby. "As regards risk, everything in life is a risk, isn't it? and, given reasonable precautions, there appears to be little reason for anxiety on that score. After all, we're on a cruise, not fighting Huns and doing a one-step over mine-fields. And, concerning his education, I agreed with Harborough that travel in itself is an education, and there is no reason why Dick shouldn't keep up his studies. As a further inducement Sir Hugh promised that whatever way the results of the expedition went, he'd be responsible for giving Dick a twelvemonth's course for Sandhurst."
"Jolly decent of him," remarked Villiers. "I wonder why he's going to all this trouble. He doesn't know Dick."
"No," replied Beverley, "he doesn't. Dick's not a bad sort," he added, which was the highest tribute Bobby dared pay his brother before other people. Villiers grunted sleepily.
"In?" he inquired laconically, as he groped for the lanyard attached to the electric-light switch—a device whereby he could turn off the light without getting out of his cot. "My word! It's blowing. Glad I'm not on an M.L. in the North Sea to-night."
"Hold on a minute," exclaimed Beverley. "I wanted to ask you something. Is Harborough very worried about that stolen attaché-case?"
"I don't know," replied Villiers. "I expect he is, but he doesn't say much."
"There are the plans and charts relating to the Fusi Yama in it, aren't there?"
"B'lieve so," admitted Villiers. "Makes things a bit complicated. However, I'll back Sir Hugh against Borgen any old time. Good night."
Next morning, according to previous arrangements, Harborough, Villiers, and O'Loghlin motored to Southampton to inspect the Titania.
At first sight the yacht did not convey a favourable impression. She had only recently turned from Admiralty service, and looked very dilapidated in her garb of grey, striped with innumerable rust-stains. She was lying in a mud-berth, and, the tide being low, a considerable part of her weed- and barnacle-covered bottom showed above the mud. Her tapering pole-masts, once resplendent in all the glories of varnish, were coated with battle-ship grey paint; her standing rigging was in a deplorable condition. An unsightly deck-house built above the original saloon added to the picture of neglect, for most of the sheet-glass panes were broken. In her present state no man intent upon the joys of yachting would have looked at her twice.
But Harborough was nothing if not practical. Appearance mattered little to him. In that neglected craft he saw seaworthiness and utility. Paint and varnish might make a crank vessel smart, but they would never make her seaworthy, but the Titania, despite her woebegone appearance, gave indications of being a good, all-round, hard-weather boat.
"A fairly flat bilge and a clean run aft," commented Sir Hugh. "If it came to a push she'd take hard ground pretty comfortably. Let's get aboard and see what she looks like 'tween decks."
The Titania was not a modern vessel by any means. Her schooner bow and rather long counter proclaimed her as a late Victorian. As a matter of fact her papers showed that she had been built at Dumbarton in 1900. The heavy oil-engines were fairly recent additions, or rather a substitute for the triple-expansion engines with which she was supplied immediately following her launch.
She was built of steel with teak decks, and twenty years had had very little effect upon her structure. Apparently she had been used for mine-laying during the war, for a steel trough had been built aft projecting a couple of feet over her counter. Amidships were two motor-driven winches, also added for war purposes, and evidently not considered worth removing before she was handed back from service. Right for'ard, in addition to the hand-operated capstan, was a powerful steam-capstan, the engine and oil-fed boiler of which were placed in the fo'c'sle.
"Rather cuts up the crew-space," commented Sir Hugh. "Fortunately, that doesn't affect us. But these capstans and winches are the very thing. What do you make of them, O'Loghlin?"
The engineering expert plunged into a maze of technical detail. Harborough listened as if he enjoyed it, but whether he did was a debatable point.
"But will they work, do you think?" he inquired at last.
"Give me a week on them and they'll work," replied O'Loghlin confidently.
The original engine-room had been gutted, and had been used as a hold, although, when the yacht had been converted from steam to heavy oil, the engine-space had been made into an additional saloon with store-space below. The present propelling-machinery was well aft, and in spite of their rusty condition the twin-motors were in serviceable order. Not only were the original oil-tanks left, but there were two large tanks, capable of taking a thousand gallons of fuel, installed immediately for'ard of the engine-room.
"She's just the thing for an ocean voyage," declared Harborough. "Don't you think so, Villiers?"
"Economical and easily handled, I should say," replied Jack. "I believe she'd give a good account of herself in a seaway."
"Let's look at the accommodation aft," said Sir Hugh. "We've to berth twenty without undue crowding, remember."
They made their way to the main saloon, which was lighted solely by skylights during the day. It was in a deplorable state, the teak and mahogany fittings being almost destitute of varnish and showing signs of not only hard but rough usage. Hardly a glass panel remained.
"Someone's been turning the ship into a bear-garden," commented Villiers.
"Fortunately, we're not sybarites," added Harborough. "Comfort's the main thing. I don't suppose the absence of looking-glass panels on the wall will worry us. She seems fairly dry, I think."
"Yes," agreed Jack. "Her decks are well laid, and that's a lot to be thankful for. Haven't spotted a sign of moisture anywhere below."
Opening out of the saloon were eight cabins, four on either side, each lighted by a port, which, when closed, was fitted with a glass scuttle. From the saloon an alley-way ran right aft to a spacious cabin, extending the extreme width of the ship under the poop. Four cabins large enough for double berths opened out of the alley-way.
"She's like a young liner," commented Harborough. "Plenty of room for the whole crowd of us. Well, that's about all. The sails and the rest of the inventory are in the store. Now, candidly, what do you think of her? Of course, she'll want a lot of refitting."
"She's just the thing, I think," declared Villiers.
"Yes," corroborated O'Loghlin. "There's precious little to find fault with the engines, as far as I can see."
"As regards the refitting," continued Villiers, "we can do most of that ourselves. We are all of us handy men. The only difficulty is the docking."
"That will have to be done by professional hands," said the baronet. "If we purchase the Titania, docking and coating the bottom with anti-fouling will be the first job. Right-o; let's call on the agent and prepare to haggle over terms."
The yacht's agent received them without emotion. He was so dubious about selling the vessel, even when there was a "boom" in shipping, that he made no attempt to sing the praises of the neglected maiden. He had had dozens of prospective purchasers during the recent period following the yacht's release from Admiralty service, and every one had gone away without attempting to close with the deal.
"Well, Mr. Strangeways," began Sir Hugh, "you've brought us down here to see a most disreputable old tub."
The agent shrugged his shoulders deprecatingly.
"You asked for particulars, sir, and we sent them," he replied. "She's not like the Asteria and the Falala, both of which are on our books if you wish to inspect. But consider the price asked for the Titania—a mere song."
"That's what I am considering," agreed Sir Hugh, grimly. "By the time she's fitted out, taking into consideration present-day prices of labour and material, she'll cost a small fortune. And even then she won't be a modern vessel by any means. No, sorry to trouble you, but I'm afraid there's nothing doing."
"Perhaps, sir," said Mr. Strangeways, metaphorically grasping at the last straw, "you might care to make an offer?"
"My price is fifteen hundred," declared the baronet promptly. "Not a penny more."
"Impossible, my dear sir," protested the agent, raising his hands in mock dismay.
"Sorry, good morning," said Harborough. "Come along, you fellows; we'll be late for lunch if we don't get a move on."
For the next two days Sir Hugh lay low; but he was far from inactive. As for the agent, he was simply bombarded with applications to inspect the dilapidated Titania, for during those two days fifteen individuals called in person, and in every case they either declared bluntly that they wouldn't touch the yacht at any price or else offered various sums none of which exceeded thirteen hundred and fifty pounds. Nor did they think fit to enlighten the now thoroughly harassed Mr. Strangeways with the information that they were members of a syndicate of which Sir Hugh Harborough was the head.
And since the reserve price of the Titania was £1450, and Mr. Strangeways had a reason for disposing of her promptly in order to close an account with her present owner, Sir Hugh evinced no untoward surprise when he received a prepaid wire:
"Does offer £1500 for Titania still hold good? If so, will accept."
Within three hours of the receipt of the telegram the "Fusi Yama Syndicate" was in possession of sixty-four sixty-fourths shares of the yacht Titania.