She followed him around the stern. He opened her cabin door, after a shrewd glance at the two Germans by the life-boat, and went in.
“Stay here,â€� he said. “We’re sure to be watched, together. I’ll be back in ten minutes. I’m going below, and if this ship is what I think it is—we’ll get the cipher-key. You look out every minute and watch the Germans. Follow them if they go to Dutch Gus’s cabin.â€�
He darted away from the girl and around the stern of the ship. Already a heavy swell was lifting the bow. There was a promise of more seas to come. The fog had lightened in patches. Vistas showed, framed by
dragging vapor like the ropes of huge Zeppelins. A glint of sun slanted over the coast of Holland. The ship was skirting the coast line. It was in danger of floating mines which had broken loose before peace had been declared.
He paused in his steps, after descending the ladder and advancing part of the distance to the engine-room companion. The Dutch stoker, with his pipe, was still taking the air.
“Can I go down?� Fay asked as he pointed toward the deck. “I’d like to see the engines.�
“Engines, Ja!� said the stoker, removing his pipe and pressing the bowl with a broad thumb. “Ja! Ja!�
“Thanks,� said Fay, grasping the curved hand-rail and turning in his descent. He glanced at the waves apprehensively.
He reached the grating and stood in the gloom between a rusty bulkhead and a triple-expansion engine. He saw, high over his head, a row of open port-holes. He had marked these from the deck. They had given him the plan to save the cipher-key.
An oil-incrusted engineer passed without noticing him. Fay started aft. There was a maze of injector-pumps, bilge-pumps, condenser-pipes and steam leaders on the starboard side of the engine. He saw the hand wheels of the sea-cocks. These were well down on their threads in a closed position. He glanced at the open hatch.