The Long Trick

half-hour after noon. A blue worsted muffler, gift and handiwork of an aunt on the outbreak of war, enfold

ee, was focusing the range-finder on the ship ahead of them in the line;

re." He made a comprehensive gesture embracing the vast Fleet th

ou can't see them because of the mist. The Battle-cruisers are somewhere beyond them again, with their Light Cruisers and Destroyers-about thirty miles to the southward. The hand

u: I hope I'll succeed in k

ther laughed.

rogood, "the perish

came out of the chart-house with a note-book in his ha

r of the Forenoon Watch, "James is

Cook's tour of the North Sea." He sniffed the damp, salt breeze. "Bracing air, change of scenery: no und

Chaplin's got something to do with it. I suppose, though, there's no objection to my asking what the disposition of our Light Cruisers happe

he late Officer of the Watch. "You can't see them

noon watch is going to

the Pilot suggests,"

ere ahead, Cruisers inv

ise

ow. A Destroyer that had altered course was resuming her position in the Destroyer line on the outsk

n the direction of the sound. "Only one of the Huns' floating mines,"

all day. Anything else you want to know, J

eam: the Messman can't be well. Pills says its squando-mania. No, I

afternoon Little Bright-eyes is going to

r prepared

ing with you. I've just got to give the

together, and left Thoro

eet, were rolling steadily in the long, smooth swell, leaving a smear of smoke in their trail. Far away in the mist astern flickered a very bright light: the invisible Li

grouped round the flag-lockers with the halliards in their hands in instant readiness to hoist a signal. The Signal Boatswain had steadied his glass against a semaphore, and was studying something on the misty outskirts of the Fleet. The Quartermaster at the wheel was watching the compass

al tortoises with two heads and disproportionately long necks. It was the dinner hour, and men were moving about, walking up and down, or sitting about in little groups smoking. Some were playing cards in places sheltered from the wind

ar detachment from the pulsating mass of metal beneath his feet. He had a vision of the electric-lit interior of the great ship, deck beneath deck, with men everywhere. Men rolled up in coats and oilskins, snatching half-an-hour's sleep along the crowded gun-batteries, men writing letters to sweethearts and wives, men laughing

usting a thousand moving joints of metal. There were adjoining caverns lit by the glare of furnaces that shone red on the glistening faces of men, silent vaults and passages where the pro

he Flagship a few minutes earlier, the Light Cruisers that had been invisible on the quarter now emerged from behind the c

AKING TOO

s of the end ship of the lee line there was the stokehold equ

like wraiths into the haze ahead. The Captain and the Navigator had joined Thorogood on the bridge, and were poring over the chart and talking in low voices. The M

ed paper to the Captain, saluted, turned on his heel and descended the ladder again. The Capta

lel-rulers; when he raised his head his eyes wer

ed the paper to the Navigator who read

iding party in the mist, sir,"

age and pursed his lips up i

pe that their main f

he Captain. "It's a question whether they realise we're all dow

elf, panting, up the ladder,

wireless to

took a breath that was

st!" h

r turned fro

asked interrogati

haze curtaining all the horizo

e of the Chief Yeoman repeating hoists rose above the

ow?" he asked in a low voice. "If the balloon's really

red up on their way to their action stations in a laughing, rejoicing throng. Mouldy Jakes, with the ever-faithful Midshipman of his turret at his side, was hurrying to his beloved guns, and greeted Thorogood as he pas

ie, get your gun, there's a cat in the garden

re also destined to see D

in flat, jerked back the curtain of his cabin, and hurriedly entered the familiar apartment. Opening a drawer he snatched up a gas-mask and a packet containing first-aid appliances which he thrust into the pocket of his swimming waistcoat, togethe

Might as well," he said, and turning back picked up a small photograph in a

e flat again he met G

nto a thick coat outsid

P. "Having a last look

n provisions in case I have to spend the wee

tion. Now, have I got everything? Thermos flask-wa

ews busy tricing up their mess-tables overhead. The Gunner was passing

'em hell, this time. Clear away and close u

raised above the clatter of the ammunition hoists, the thud of projectiles as they were p

right-eyed with excitement, talked in low voices by the foremost gun: gradually a tense hush closed down upon the main deck; the crews stood silent ro

od waiting; the great ship was being driven head-long by unseen forces towards an unseen foe. But of that foe, none of the hundre

opened fire with a salvo, and, as if released by the explosion, a burst of frantic cheering leaped from every throat and echoed and reve

*

tance above the giant tripod. It was reached by iron rungs let into the mast, and here Gerrard, with the din of bug

cker of foam at each blunt ram and the wind singing past the hooded top alone gave any indication of the speed at which the ships were advancing. It was an immense monochrome of grey. Grey ships with the White Ensign flyin

r head down here," he said, "out of the wind ... can you hea

the wind and the vibration of the engines transmitted by the mast. Then, faint and intermittent, like t

e Lieutenant. He straightened up, staring ahead throug

ey were still hidden by the mist and apparently unconscious of the Battle-Fleet bearing down upon them like some vast, implacable instrument of doom. The target of their guns suddenly became visible as the Battle-cruisers appeared on th

tending far into the haze that was momentarily closing in upon them. The curtain ahead was again pierced by a retreating force of

ious flashes of guns. The moment had come, and all along the extended British battle-line the turret guns opened fire with a roar of angry sound that seemed to

by the encircling mist, reeled to and fro across the spouting water and mingled with the grey clouds from bur

rd the guns of Tweedledee's battery open fire with a roar, and then the cheering of the crews, mingled with the cordite fume

on. He lay outstretched, face downwards, with his head resting on his forearm as if asleep. Most of the lights had been extinguished by the exp

had never even seen death, was slithering about dimly lit decks, slippery with what he dared not look at, encouraging and steadying the crews,

iness. His vision cleared, however, and for a few moments he studied the drops of water that were dripping from the gash in the plating. "Crying!" he said stupidly. The shells that pitched short had deluged the fore-part of the ship with water, and it was still dripping into the

gure descending the hatchway. It was Mouldy Jakes: his scalp was torn so that a red triangular patch hung rakishly over one eye. Flung over his shoulde

ed to hell.... He's still alive, but he's broken all to little b

rung of the ladder and began to whimper like a distraught child. "It's my hand..." he s

f the fog. The great guns under his control roared at intervals, but before the effect of the shell-burst could be observed the enemy would be swallowed

her guns pointing upwards like the fingers of a distraught hand, and as she sank the mist closed down again as it were a merciful curtain drawn to hide a horror. An enemy Cruiser dropped down the engaged side of the line like an exhausted participator

to the futile hate of man for his brother man and slowly dissolved into the mist. A German Destroyer attack crumpled up in the blast of the 6-inch batteries of the British Fleet, and the British Destroyers dashed to meet their crippled onslaught as vultures might swoop on blinded wolves. They fought at point-blank range, asking no quarter, expecti

minute of perfect visibility, one little minute of clear range beyond the fog-masked sights, was all they asked

sounds of strife like monsters mouthing for the prey that was denied them, but the fog held and the merciful dus

Flotilla after flotilla was detached from the Fleet and swallowed by the short summer nigh

s rushing headlong through the night, with the wounded groaning between their wreckage-strewn decks; and on each bridge, high above them in the windy darkness, men talked in guttural mono-syllables, peering through h

ld. A fleeing German Cruiser fell among a flotilla of Destroyers and altered her helm, with every gun and searchlight blazing, to ram the leading boat. The Destroyer had time to alter course sufficiently to bring the two ships bow to bow before the impact came. Then there was a grinding crash: forecastle, bridge and foremost gun a pile of wreckage and struggling figures. The blast of the German guns swept the funnels, boats, cowls and men away as a gale blows d

oubled waters; in the growing light the survivors of the Destroyer's crew saw a crippled German Cruiser trailing south at slow speed. Only one gun remained in action onboard the Destr

slowly over and sank whi

, bore down upon them about noon and took her crippled sister in tow. They passed slowly away to the westward, leav

direction of the English coast that lay some hundred odd miles to the west. The waves washed over their numbed bodies, and

est of a wave and slid down a grey-back towards them. The oarsmen were rowing with slow strokes, and

rictly speakin', we did ought to figh

e and continued their futile mecha

, who had a blood-stained band

dded, "Fünf! ..." whereupon he and his companions

over the raft rolled the dead man's head to and fro