He felt justified in making the attempt. During his brief visit to the trawler the lack of oil from the broken lamps had first aroused his suspicions. Secondly, he had made the discovery that the foremast, although painted to resemble pitch-pine, was made of metal, and was consequently hollow. A steel mast for a vessel of that tonnage was a decided rarity, especially when the vessel was supposed to be a trawler. Consequently Aubyn had already made up his mind to investigate.
It was impracticable to give Waynsford details of his plan. Without demur the skipper of the "Lonette" had agreed to his chum's proposition—for which Terence was truly grateful. Had Waynsford been of a jealous or inquisitive disposition he might have wrecked his friend's plans. Instead he had unquestionably complied with Aubyn's wishes.
Presently Terence emerged from the cabin and peered cautiously at the high sides of the trawler. Fortunately none of the crew was visible. Six feet abaft the motor-boat's quarter the outlines of the trawler's mizzen chain-plates were just discernible in the darkness.
Softly calling to the "Lonette's" bowman, Aubyn asked him to drop a few feet astern. The man who in civil life had been a deck-hand on a crack racing-yacht, immediately did so. His wonderment at the request was overpowered by a sense of obedience acquired by years of training that demanded instant response to the order of the sailing-master.
As soon as the chain-plates came within arm's length Terence grasped the tarred lanyards and swung himself up till his head was on a level with the bulwarks. He peered cautiously along the deck. Aft the trawler was deserted. Forward the two hands were fumbling with the lanterns and the ends of the severed forestay halliard. They evidently were in no hurry to rectify the damage, Terence decided a deft-handed man could have re-spliced the rope in a quarter of the time.
Silently the sub. crawled over the bulwarks and made his way to the lee side of the engine-room coamings. Here he paused to survey the scene of action, at the same time devotedly hoping that his boots would not creak and betray his presence. From below came the guttural voice of the Dutch skipper punctuated by the clear decisive tones of Dick Waynsford. Amidships, on the port side, one of the crew, invisible from the place where Terence crouched, was still keeping up a running fire of banter with the "Pixie's" crew.
He began to unlace his boots, regretting that he had not left them on board the "Lonette." Then he remembered that if they were discovered suspicions would be aroused. He could not drop them overboard without making a splash—and the footgear had cost him a guinea a pair. Lying about on a wet deck with stockinged feet, he reflected, was a cruel job on a cold night, so he hurriedly re-tied the laces.
"It will be a ticklish job to give an account of myself if they find me," he soliloquised, "that is, if the trawler's what she pretends she is. Ten to one I'm on the right tack, though, so here goes."
On all fours he crossed the only uninterrupted part of deck space between the companion and the side of the fish-hold coaming. Here he was fairly safe from observation unless one of the for'ard hands chanced to come aft.
The fish-hold hatches occupied the greater portion of the 'midships part of the trawler. Two of the after-coverings had been removed. The others were in place, a heavy tarpaulin being loosely thrown over them, the canvas slack at the for'ard end.