The authorities left no stone unturned to attempt the recapture of the dangerous and daring spy, but their efforts were in vain. The disquieting thought remained that von Eckenhardt was still within the limits of Great Britain. His activity, amounting almost to recklessness, made it pretty certain that he would not return to the Continent while there was scope for work amongst his enemies; and, although it was unlikely that he would carry on his secret service work either in the vicinity of Rosyth or Great Yarmouth, it was surmisable that he would recommence operations in the neighbourhood of another important naval or military centre.
Shortly after the escape of von Eckenhardt the various units of the torpedo-boat-destroyer flotilla to which the "Livingstone" belonged were sent out on detached service. Since the repetition of the luckless German raid seemed unlikely, at least until the extensive repairs to the "Derfflinger" and "Moltke" were carried out, the necessity for keeping the full complement of flotillas ceased to exist. Hence the "Livingstone" was ordered to proceed to a certain rendezvous off the Lizard, in the vicinity of which one of von Tirpitz's pirate submarines was making itself a considerable nuisance to British merchantmen bound up and down Channel.
Twenty-four hours after leaving the Firth of Forth the destroyer arrived at her appointed station, where she had the mortification of hearing that a large tramp steamer, the "Quickstep," had been held up and sunk only two hours previously.
All the destroyer could do was to tow the ship's boats with the survivors within an easy distance of Falmouth; then back the "Livingstone" doubled, her officers and crew filled with the utmost keenness to meet and destroy the skulking terror of the deep.
About three bells in the First Dog Watch the lookout reported a sail in sight, which quickly proved to be a large two-masted cargo vessel bound down Channel.
As she came within signalling distance she made her number, announcing that she was the SS. "Syntax" of London, and inquired if the destroyer had seen any of the enemy's submarines.
"Tell them 'yes'," ordered Gilroy, who was the officer of the watch. "And inform them that we will escort her as far as the Wolf Rock. Beyond that she ought to be fairly safe."
"Tough old skipper of that packet," remarked Terence, pointing to the "Syntax." "He doesn't deign to sail under false colours—there's the good old 'red' flying as proudly as any merchant skipper could wish. And I wouldn't mind betting that there isn't a firearm on board, except the signal gun and perhaps the old man's revolver."
"We'll mother him all right," declared Gilroy optimistically. "It would go hard with any German submarine that dared to show her periscope now," and he indicated the man standing by the for'ard 4-in. gun, ready at the first alarm to shoot and shoot straight—for the No. 1 was one of the best gunlayers of the flotilla.
With her speed reduced to a modest twelve knots, in order to keep station with her convoy, the destroyer turned and followed the "Syntax" at a distance of one seamile astern and slightly on her port quarter.