"You are right on the target, Mr. Cavendish," said the Commander. "It is. The Cynesephon is to be fully manned by naval ratings, but the crew have to be disguised as merchant seamen. I need not emphasize the fact that this information is absolutely confidential. She will be detailed to cruise between Rio and Port of Spain in the hope that she will be mistaken for a cargo-boat. That is acting upon the supposition that there is a piratical vessel out. Personally, I think that some obscure South American republic has run amok. A light cruiser and a couple of destroyers will be within a hundred miles of the decoy ship, but you will understand that they will only be called to the Cynesephon's assistance if she is in immediate danger of foundering. There is a great chance of her being sunk with all hands before the supporting vessels can arrive on the spot. Now, I think I've hinted enough for you to realize the nature of the operations. Are you a volunteer?"
"I am, sir," was the ready response.
"I thought so," rejoined the Commander. "Here are the names of your new skipper and the officers who have already volunteered. You know most of them, I believe. Well, that's that. Use the greatest discretion. Remember, a chance word may wreck the whole business. And I don't think I'd write to Corbold again if I were you—at least, until you return."
The Commander held out his hand. Fifteen seconds later Sub-lieutenant Cavendish stood in the corridor, hardly able to realize his good fortune.
CHAPTER XIX
The Decoy Ship
That same afternoon, Sub-lieutenant Cavendish went on leave. That was the official version given out to his messmates. They saw him depart in a taxi, rigged out in mufti and with a prodigious amount of "kit" that suggested a "tidy drop o' leaf". Cavendish's home was in the Midlands, within a few miles of Grantham—but that was not his objective. Two hours later, he put up at a modest hotel in Southampton, patronized almost exclusively by Master Mariners of the Mercantile Marine.
The next day he joined the S.S. Complex at Southampton Docks as Third Officer.
The Complex was a tramp of 570 tons displacement, belonging to the port of Grimsby, if the information painted on her stern were correct. She was 230 feet in length. She had the usual raised fo'c'sle and poop, with deckhouses and bridge amidships just for'ard of her solitary funnel. Her fore- and mainmasts were of the "pole" type, with the customary appendages in the shape of derricks.