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Larkin had learned it. The attorney and Captain Brandon Lake were now walking side by side over the more sequestered part of the green. 'And so, said the captain, coming to a stand-still, 'I'll bid you good-bye, Larkin; what stay, I forgot to ask, do you make in town? 'Only a day or two. 'You'll not wait for the division on Trawler's motion? 'Oh, dear, no.
Gasping with the sudden shock, Ken struck out and got his head above water. Only a few yards away, he saw Roy still clinging tightly to the survivor of the dinghy's crew. He swam hard towards him and managed to reach him. 'You! gasped Roy, who hardly seemed to have realised what had happened. 'The trawler's gone, panted Roy, as he lifted one hand and dashed the salt water from his eyes.
Our new friend had not seen "our lot," but had left a fleet with an unknown house-flag ten miles astern. We surged forward again. We steamed for two hours, and then the pattern of a trawler's smoke was seen ahead traced on a band of greenish brilliance which divided the sea from the sky. Almost at once other faint tracings multiplied there.
The Yeoman of Signals on the Submarine's conning tower stiffened like a statue as he read the message. "Says, 'Will Sir William Thor-r-ogood come aboar-r-d, sir? If so, he'll send a boat." His speech placed him at home in these Northern latitudes. "Reply, 'Yes. Please send boat." A quarter of an hour later Sir William was climbing out of a tubby dinghy over the trawler's bulwarks.
"I can't see her," I replied, "but there's a light low down ahead." "The Agatha!" They rowed desperately through the uneasy dispersal of the fog for ten minutes and ducked round the trawler's bow. "Well, Emanuel means 'God with us' so far." Pyecroft wiped his brow, laid a hand on the low rail, and as he boosted me up to the trawler, I saw Moorshed's face, white as pearl in the thinning dark.
He's started talking...." Amid the cluster of figures in the trawler's bow stood a big man with a megaphone to his mouth. The wind carried scraps of sentences across the water. "... Darned bunch of tricks aft.... How was I to know.... Scared blue ... torpedo ... prisoners.... Blamed inventors...." "Translate," said Sir William. The Lieutenant-Commander coughed apologetically.
The Reserve Lieutenant pulled a knife out of his pocket, and, bending down, thoughtfully added another nick to a long row of notches in the wooden beam of the trawler's fore hatch. Lettigne sat on the edge of his sea-chest contemplating a large fragment of a German shell which he held on his knees.
The night grew dark with gathering clouds. Lights far out at sea showed the trailing fishers; a flaring torch told of a trawler's evening fortune made already. And soon they were at the Duke's lodge and Gilian's way up Glen Aray lay before him.
Far out to seaward a formation of Mine-sweeping Sloops crept away to the west. Close inshore, where the gulls circled vociferously, an insignificant trawler with a rusty funnel lay rolling in the swell. A wisp of bunting jerked to the stumpy foremast, and a pair of hand-flags zigzagged above the trawler's wheel-house.
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