One, very wide of the mark, reported that the pirate had been sunk off Cherbourg, in action with a French cruiser; another declared that the filibuster had been rammed and sunk by a British light cruiser off Beachy Head. A third, that the mysterious vessel had been driven ashore in Mounts Bay and that the crew had been taken prisoners and were already on their way to London. A fourth, much nearer the mark, had contrived to obtain information from St. Ives to the effect that the destroyer Windrush had sunk the pirate vessel Memnon off Trevose Head. Not one in half a dozen separate reports mentioned the important fact that the corsair had sunk herself.
That same afternoon a westerly gale of force ten—or with a velocity of sixty-five miles an hour—was blowing in the English Channel and off the north coast of Cornwall. At Tresco, Scilly, the anemometer even registered one hundred and twenty miles. For three days it blew with unabated violence, finally veering to the N.N.W., leaving in its wake a trail of disaster. For nearly a week after, a heavy tumbling sea was sweeping in from the Atlantic, rendering investigation of the wreck of the Memnon impracticable.
At length the sea moderated sufficiently to enable the dockyard tug and the two lighters to leave Plymouth Sound. They had not cleared the breakwater more than an hour when the Devonport wireless station received the following startling message:
"S.S. Broadstone making for Falmouth, towing Spanish oil-tanker Mendez Nunez, attacked, pillaged and disabled by vessel, nationality unknown, in Lat. 47° 20' N., long. 9° 15' W."
"Then there must have been a pair of 'em," exclaimed the Commander-in-Chief.
"Unless the original one got away," suggested his flag-lieutenant.
"What do you mean?" demanded the admiral. "Didn't the Windrush report her sunk?
"Strange things happen at sea, sir," remarked the admiral's secretary.
"But there are limits," rejoined the Commander-in-Chief. "Well, the diving-party will get to work early to-morrow if the weather holds. I'm willing to bet a bottle of '14 Champagne to a Corona Corona that they'll find the wreck of the Memnon within three working days."
"Done, sir!" replied the secretary promptly. The admiral lost. In calm weather, divers descended and discovered the sinker of the buoy dropped by the Windrush. A couple of drifters swept a wide area without encountering any obstruction resembling wreckage. A naval seaplane assisted in the search, but without success. Reluctantly the authorities had to admit that the operation was a complete failure. The sunken Memnon had vanished as completely as if she had been swallowed up by a fathomless quicksand. But since no quicksand existed in the neighbourhood of St. Ives Bay, that theory was knocked on the head. Remained the question: What had happened to her?