"Stop it!" interrupted O'Hara good-humouredly. "I know what you were going to say: that old tag from the Articles of War. I propose that every time the word submarine is mentioned by anyone of us while on board this vessel the delinquent shall be suitably punished as soon as the sun's over the fore-yard."
"Hear, hear! I second that," agreed Stirling. "No more 'shop'. We'll get plenty of that in a few weeks' time. I fancy My Lords won't let us kick our heels in idleness for long, and honestly, the sooner we settle down to business the better."
The three chums were Sub-lieutenants, homeward bound from a portion of a certain group of islands off the coast of New Guinea, having till recently the high-sounding title of the Bismarck Archipelago. The youthful but none the less glorious Australian Navy had quickly changed the colour of that portion of the map, but the climate was a more formidable foe than the former German garrison. Thus the three young officers, who had been "lent" to the recently-formed navy, had the misfortune to be stricken with fever.
After a long convalescence, which by a pure coincidence lasted almost exactly the same time in each of the three cases, Denbigh, Stirling, and O'Hara were ordered to return to England and to resume their duties with the navy of the Motherland.
They had travelled by an intermediate boat to Singapore, whence, in order to save delay, they had proceeded by a Japanese liner, the Nichi Maru, bound from Nagasaki to London. It was a case of misdirected zeal, for, owing to the torpedoing of a large Japanese liner in the Mediterranean, the Nichi Maru had been ordered to take the longer passage round the Cape instead of the usual route via the Suez Canal.
"Hulloa! What's the excitement?" enquired Denbigh, pointing in the direction of the bridge. The chums had gained the promenade deck, whence most of the navigating bridge of the liner could be seen. There was evidently something to warrant his exclamation, for the dapper little Japanese officer of the watch was steadily keeping his binoculars upon some distant object.
"There's a smudge of smoke away to the nor'east'ard," announced Stirling. "The mild excitement of sighting a vessel will help to push the hands of the clock. Now if someone will kindly suggest a sweepstake on the nationality of yonder craft——"
The door of the wireless room opened. The sharp peculiar cackle of the instruments announced that an exchange of messages was in progress. A messenger made his way to the bridge. Almost immediately after, the captain hurried from his cabin. Evidently "something was in the wind", for the appearance of the imperturbable commander of the Nichi Maru at this time of day was rather unusual.
"We're altering helm," declared O'Hara after a brief interval. "Since we can speak with that vessel without the necessity of having to close, it points to something of the nature of a serious mishap."
The rest of the passengers were now making their way on deck. By an inexplicable intuition the presence of the still invisible vessel had made itself felt. None of the officers had communicated the news that the Nichi Maru was in touch with another craft, yet in five minutes the decks were crowded with a medley of Europeans and Asiatics.