Under the White Ensign: A Naval Story of the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

"Reprimanded," announced Osborne laconically. "The captain won't listen to my explanation. Better luck, old man."

But Sub-lieutenant Webb fared no better. His attempt to throw a light upon the night's work met with an equally curt reception.

"I believe the skipper's been drinking," said Webb to his chum after his interview.

"Since you mention it, I agree," said Osborne gravely. "I've known it for some time, but I didn't like to give my chief away. We've struck hard lines in the matter of a skipper, Tom. You see, our temporal future lies entirely in his hands. If he sends in an unfavourable report upon our conduct and abilities, we're done as far as the Service is concerned. There is no appeal. However, we must carry on and do our duty."

Osborne had previously said that Captain Staggles was a keen officer. He had been; but retirement had blunted his zest and rusted his abilities. Still rankling under the mistaken idea of injustice at having been refused a shore appointment, the skipper had lost interest in his work. He was content to rely mainly upon the stereotyped order "Carry on", and a non-committal "Very good" when addressing his subordinate officers. His formerly active brain, fuddled by intemperance, was no longer capable of controlling the destinies of a ship's company. Had he been permitted to remain in command the result might have been fatal to the efficiency of the ship. Fortunately it was otherwise.

By some means the story of the adventure of Osborne and his chum reached the ears of the Senior Naval Officer on the Station. He immediately applied for a report from Captain Staggles, and the latter had to admit that he knew nothing of the details of the occurrence. The result was that Osborne and Webb were sent for, and, under severe cross-examination, had to reveal the facts of their interview with their commanding officer, and how the latter had refused to hear the report concerning the spy.

Two hours later Captain Staggles was ordered to undergo a medical examination and, found unfit for duty, was sent to hospital; the Lieutenant-commander of the Portchester Castle was given temporary command pending a fresh appointment from the Admiralty.

Jimmy M'Bride, Captain Staggles's successor, was a man of totally different character and disposition. There was a humorous side to his nature that the former skipper lacked. He knew his job thoroughly, regarding the men under him as something different from mere machines. He expected a high standard—and got it; not by aggressive methods, but by example. He was always ready to consider a grievance, but woe betide the incautious man who attempted to impose upon him.

Already precious time had been lost, but M'Bride delayed no longer in acting upon the information that Osborne and Webb had gained from the Greek spy. Since the Portchester Castle had not figured in the list of ships supplied to the kapitan of the German submarine, the armed merchant-cruiser was detailed to take the place of a large tramp, the s.s. Two-Step, which was under orders for Marseilles.

Just before sundown the Portchester Castle was, roughly, twenty miles east of Gibraltar. It was a calm, glorious evening. Not a ripple disturbed the placid surface of the Mediterranean, save the long, ever-diverging swell in the wake of the slowly moving vessel, for in the rôle of merchant-man the Portchester Castle was steaming at a bare fifteen knots. Three miles away and broad on the starboard beam was the tramp, flying the red ensign. Already by means of the International Code she had "made her number". Her course was approximately parallel to that of the Portchester Castle, although her speed was less by a good five knots.