"You may take it from me," declared Challis, "if that there Seligmann is anywhere about Haddisport, we shall nab him."
CHAPTER XIX.
U50.
"Dainty, ahoy! Show a light at your gangway while I come aboard of you."
It was a dark, boisterous night, with fiercely driving rain. Mark Redisham in his dripping oilskins was pacing the wet deck of the mine-sweeper, lying at anchor in a land-locked bay on the north-east coast.
The Dainty and her consorts had been at their perilous work dredging for explosive mines off the north of Ireland and in the Pentland Firth, battling day by day with stormy seas, incessant rains, and bitterly cold winds. It had been a most uncomfortable trip, and Mark and his shipmates were rejoicing in the prospect of a few days' rest at home. Even the necessity of anchoring at night irritated them because of the delay.
The trawlers were lying now in the midst of a large flotilla of destroyers and light cruisers. Mark had read a flashlight signal from the bridge of one of the cruisers, inquiring which was the commodore of the mine-sweepers, and he had answered it with his electric torch. A pinnace was approaching the Dainty, and it was an officer in the stern sheets who had hailed him.
Mark held a lighted lamp in the open gangway, and the pinnace came alongside. The officer, a sub-lieutenant, climbed on board to speak with the skipper in the shelter of the wheel-house, leaving a midshipman in charge of the boat. Mark was about to enter into conversation with the bluejackets when the midshipman stood up. The lamplight shone in his face.
"Hullo, Rodney!" cried Mark in astonishment, recognising his brother. "What an unexpected meeting! How are you? Have you come off the Levity?"
They clasped hands.