From the engine-room came the tinkle of the telegraph, the syren was blown, the engines stopped, and then there came the grunting of the winch and the noisy rattle of the anchor chain through the hawse hole.
"We're anchored for the night," said Mark, turning over on his pillow.
The Dainty was still at anchor in the early morning when the two Scouts jumped out of their bunks and climbed up on deck in their pyjamas, with towels round their necks. They opened the side gangway and put out the ladder, then stripped and dived off into the cold, clear waves, Darby leading. They swam round the nearest of the three other trawlers, shouted a "good-morning" to the watch, and had a race back, Mark being left far behind; for Darby Catchpole was by far the better swimmer.
While they were drying themselves, they looked round about them.
There were several vessels lying at anchor within sight. About a mile away was a magnificent American clipper, with four tall masts and an amazing webwork of standing and running rigging, and with the stars and stripes painted on her beautiful hull. A tug lay near her, getting up steam to tow her farther on her voyage to some North Sea port with her cargo of American timber. Farther away there were two British destroyers and a light cruiser.
Mark got into his pyjamas and went aft to get a pair of binoculars from the wheel-house; but found the skipper using them.
"Look slippy and get your warm clothes on, bor," said Snowling. "I expect I shall want you, soon as it's light enough, to do a bit of signallin'."
Mark and Darby were both quickly dressed. They returned on deck munching some of Mrs. Catchpole's home-made currant cake. All four of the mine-sweepers were by this time getting up steam.
"Keep your eye on the light cruiser yonder," ordered the skipper, "and be ready to take down her semaphore message when she starts signallin'."
The two boys waited very patiently for about half an hour, when at length the semaphore on the cruiser's bridge began to move.