Crouch crumpled the paper in his hand and hurled it across the cabin in a fit of impatience. "Hidden meaning to Jericho!" he roared. "Go to a younger man than me, and one who knows less of the world, with an old wives' tale like that. This is so much gibberish, written by an idle sailor who thought to ape the scholar, when he had been better employed sail-making or splicing ropes. Go back to bed, my lad, and worry me no longer. I hold fast to my resolve; you shall be tried for your life in Portsmouth by a proper legal court, and if you can't give a satisfactory account of yourself, as sure as a typhoon in August in the China Seas, you'll swing for a German spy."
Without a word, poor Jimmy Burke left the captain's cabin, more heartbroken and despondent than he had ever been before. Captain Crouch, for all his virtues--and these, as we are soon to learn, were many--was a hard man by nature, and, moreover, one who was as obstinate and pertinacious as any rough and weather-beaten mariner can be.
[CHAPTER XII--The U93]
During the latter part of her voyage, the "Harlech" was not able to travel faster than eight knots an hour, whereas normally she was capable of doing as much as thirteen under favourable conditions. The truth was her engines had been badly damaged by shell fire; and had she not been commanded by a man of inflexible resolution, there is no doubt she would have put into one of the Irish ports for safety and repairs. Crouch, however, had his orders, and these were to take the ship to Portsmouth, with as little delay as possible and in face of every risk; and thither he was determined to go.
It was not until the evening upon which they sighted the Fastnet light that Crouch himself, for the first time, had some cause for suspicion in regard to Rudolf Stork. The man's conduct on that particular occasion was by no means easy to explain.
During the incident with the "Dresden" two of the ship's quartermasters had been severely wounded and rendered incapable of carrying on their work. On ocean liners and merchant vessels the quartermasters are entrusted with a very important office: it is they who take their turn, watch by watch, at the wheel, who are responsible that the ship maintains her course. There were now but two quartermasters capable of doing duty; and Captain Crouch had to look about him to find other men capable of taking the places of those who had been disabled.
It so happened that Rudolf Stork was one of the first to volunteer, and was able to prove that he had sufficient knowledge of a ship's compass to take charge of the wheel. He was told off for the middle watch, which was that commanded by the chief officer, Mr. Dawes.
Having picked up the famous Fastnet light, and verified his course, which was almost due south-east to the Scillies, Captain Crouch turned in at midnight, at the end of his own watch, and handed over to Dawes, who ascended the bridge steps followed by Stork. The night was bitterly cold; a fine rain was driving south-westward, down the St. George's Channel. There was also a sea fog which completely obliterated the moon and stars. Both Dawes and the acting quartermaster wore waterproof coats and sou'westers.
Now, it so happened that on this occasion the chief officer was very far from well. A few days before, he had contracted a violent cough which that night showed signs of becoming serious. He had reported to the captain that he felt indisposed, but protested that he was quite able to do his duty. For all that, he had not been upon the bridge three-quarters of an hour when he was seized with an immoderate fit of coughing. This coughing was not only a serious impediment to the proper carrying out of his duty, but it was also exceedingly painful. His pulse was exceptionally fast, and a certain hot dryness of the skin was a sure symptom of fever. Indeed, had there been a doctor on board, he would have diagnosed the case at once, and pronounced the chief officer to be on the verge of double pneumonia, aggravated by bronchial trouble. In face of this, it speaks volumes for the pluck and perseverance of Mr. Dawes that he had undertaken to go on watch at all.
Very soon, however, the coughing became so violent and persistent that he was, at last, obliged to leave the bridge, to go below to his cabin. He was not absent much longer than ten minutes; but, it so happened that, whilst he was away, Crouch, who had not yet been to sleep, returned to the bridge.