The Lost Naval Papers

by Bennet Copplestone

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN

  "Every man to his trade," said Dawson. "I didn't go into thedifficulties of our job to those high folks at the Admiralty, but theyare not at all small. You have a head on you, Froissart, though it hasthe misfortune to be French; set it going on double shifts."

  The two men were sitting in a specially reserved first-classcompartment in the Paddington-Plymouth express; as companions theywere hopelessly uncongenial, yet as colleagues formed a strongcombination in which the qualities of the one served to neutralise thedefects of the other. Dawson, in spite of his love for the Defence ofthe Realm Regulations, was still sometimes unconsciously hampered byan ingrained respect for the ordinary law and the rights of civilians;Froissart, like all French detective officers, held the law incontempt, and was by nature and training utterly lawless. The morereputable a suspect, the more remorseless was his pursuit. They were,professionally, a terrible pair who could have been passed through ahair sieve without leaving behind a grain of moral scruple.

  Froissart, when he would be at the trouble, understood and spokeEnglish quite well, though with me he used nothing but the raciest ofboulevard French. "My friend," said he, "your promise to thoseMinisters of Marines was rash; for, unless there is the most perfectexecution of your scheme and the most sleepless watching of those whomyou call dockyard hands--_ceux qui travaillent dans les chantiers, nec'est pas_?--the sailing of these _grands croiseurs_ will be told toGermany. There are too many who will know. We are upon _une folleenterprise_--a chase of the wild goose."

  "You do not know my system if you think that," remarked Dawson,frowning.

  "And if I do not, of whom is the fault?" inquired Froissart blandly;"for, my faith, you never tell what you would be doing."

  "A secret," said Dawson sententiously, "is a secret when known to oneonly. If two know of it there is grave danger. If three, one might aswell shout it from the housetops. Therefore I keep my own counsel."

  "That is just what I said," cried Froissart triumphantly. "If thesecret of these _grand croiseurs_ is known to one hundred, twohundred, _le bon Dieu_ knows how many hundreds of dockyard hands, onemight as well print it in these dull English _journaux_. You attemptthe impossible, _mon ami_."

  "They are Englishmen," proclaimed Dawson, who felt compelled to upholdthe character of his countrymen in the presence of a foreigner. "Theyare patriots. Not a man of them would sell his country."

  "I would not bank on their patriotism, my friend, when there is muchBoche gold to be won and much beer to be drunk."

  "And who said that I did bank upon it?" cried Dawson testily,forgetting his noble, words of two minutes earlier. "I wouldn't trustone of them out of my sight. I have two dozen of my own men workingalongside of those dockyard hands, watching them by night and day. Weknow if a man drinks two glasses of beer when he used to drink one,and takes home to his wife eighteenpence above his ordinary wage. Doyou take me for a fool?"

  "You'll be a bigger fool than I take you for if you do not playstraight this time with me, and tell me your plans in detail. I haveto work with you, and I cannot give service blindfold."

  "You are not a bad fellow, Froissart," said Dawson thoughtfully--thename in his mouth became Froy-zart--"and I will tell you here and nowmore of my mind than I have yet shown even to the great Chief of usall. It will take all your brains--for you have some brains--and allof mine to keep the secret of those battle-cruisers."

  * * * * *

  In the morning the newspapers published the meagre details of thedisaster in the South Seas, and the Three Towns were shaken to theirfoundations. For when naval ships go down, they take with them crewsof whom half have their homes in Devon. The disaster meant that eighthundred families in the West mourned a son or a father. Ever since thedays of the Great Queen--whose name in the West is not Victoria, butElizabeth--Devon has paid in the lives of its best men the price ofAdmiralty. The Three Towns mourned with a grief made more bitter bythe realisation that the disaster was one which never should havehappened. Bad slow English ships had been sent against good fastGerman ships, and had been sunk with all hands without hurt to theenemy. The Three Towns know the speed and power of every fighting shipafloat, British or foreign, as you or I before the war knew the publicform of every leading golfer or cricketer. In every bar wheresailormen met one another, and met, too, the brothers and fathers ofsailormen, the Lords of the Admiralty were weighed and condemned. Itis a thing most serious when in the cradles of the Navy, Portsmouthand the Three Towns, faith in the wisdom of Whitehall becomes shaken.One may muzzle the Press, but no muzzle yet devised can close themouths of sailormen and their friends in dockyard towns.

  In the afternoon of the same day, while the news of the disaster wasstill fresh, there came a whisper, which gained in loudness and inprecision of detail as it passed from mouth to ear and from ear tomouth, that the worst had not yet been told. There had been not one,but two disasters. Two battle-cruisers, it was declared, had been sunkin the Channel by German mines or submarines. What were their names?inquired the white-faced women. The names were not yet known, but theywould soon come. A little later the severity of the rumour becamesoftened. The battle-cruisers had not, it appeared, been sunk, butseverely damaged. They were at that moment on their way to the Sound,crippled sorely, yet afloat. Men groaned. Two battle-cruisers blown upin the Channel; what in God's name were two battle-cruisers doing inthe mine-strewn Channel when their proper place was in one of the safeeyries overlooking the North Sea? A plausible explanation was offered.The two battle-cruisers had been coming to Plymouth to take in storesthat they might speed away south to avenge those other two cruiserssunk by the Germans as had been told in the morning's papers. If thiswere indeed true, the news was of the worst; England's prestige afloatwas gone. She could not spare two other whole battle-cruisers toproceed upon a mission of vengeance to the South Seas while theGermans' Battle Squadrons in the North Sea ports were stillundefeated. Meanwhile the Germans far away to the south could do whatthey pleased; they could sink and burn our merchant steamers at will.The command of the Pacific had passed from England to Germany, and theWhite Ensign hung draggled and shamed for all the world to sneer at.The Three Towns almost forgot their personal grief for drowned friendsin their horror at the disgrace which had come to their own sacredService.

  It was still light, though late in the afternoon, when the anxiouswatchers upon the Hoe made out, beyond Drake's Island, two big shipscoming in round the western end of the breakwater. Though deep in thewater they towered above their escort of destroyers and fast patrolboats. The leading ship was listing badly, her tripod mast with itsspotting top hung far over to port, and she was towing stern first asister ship whose bows were almost hidden under water. The ThreeTowns, which can recognise the outlines of warships afar off, rapidlypronounced judgment. "That's the _Intrepid_" they declared, "and theone she's towing is a battle-cruiser of the same class--the_Terrific_ or _Tremendous_. They're both badly holed." "GawdA'mighty," cried a grizzled longshoreman, who might have sailed withDrake or Hawkins--as no doubt his forbears had done--"look to the listof un! And thicky with her bows down under, being towed by the sternto keep her from swamping entire. If it worn't for them bulk'eads unwouldn't never have made the Sound." It was plain to those who hadglasses turned on the damaged ships that they were drawing far toomuch water to be brought into the Hamoaze and over the sill of the drydock at Devonport, so that no one felt surprise when thebattle-cruisers were seen to pull out of the deep fairway and maketowards the shore. The purpose was plain to read. They were to be putaground under Mount Edgcumbe, patched up, and pumped dry, and thenwould go into dock for repairs. It was a job of weeks, and during allthat time the Fleet would be short of two battle-cruisers which mighthave swept the South Seas clear of the German Ensign. It was cruelluck, and the Three Towns had enough to talk of to keep them occupiedfor many days. Presently more news came, authentic news, and passedrapidly from mouth to mouth. The vesse
ls were the _Intrepid_, theflagship of Admiral Stocky, and her sister the _Terrific_, a pair offast Dreadnought cruisers. They had, as was surmised, been speedingdown from Scotland to dock at Plymouth on their way to clean up themess made in the far South. They had come safely through the Irish Seaand round the Land's End, but when near their journey's end off Foweythey had run into a patch of mines laid by German submarines. The_Terrific_ had had her bow plates ripped into slivers of ragged steel,and the three fore compartments flooded. The _Intrepid_ had picked upthe wire of a twin mine, got caught badly on the port side, but hadluckily escaped to starboard. She had taken her crippled sister intow, and brought her in safely. Both ships could easily be repaired,but it would take time. The voyage to the South Seas was off. Nothingcould have been more convincing than the story which quickly gotabout; the ships had been seen and recognised by the ThreeTowns--there was no concealment and no mystery. For once the SilentNavy appeared to be talkative. The hearts of German agents in theTowns swelled with pride and joy. Here was convincing proof of thekindly hand of the Prussian Gott. If the great news could be carriedthrough to the Kaiser and von Tirpitz, there would be much ringing ofchurch bells in the Fatherland. But these English, since the warbegan, had become very watchful, very suspicious. The problem was: howto get the glad news through.

  * * * * *

  It was two o'clock in the morning and very dark. The big dry docks atDevonport were deserted except for a few picked hands, not more thantwo score at the outside, told off on night shift for special duty.Against all workmen who had not been warned for this duty the biggates would be closed for two whole days. There were important jobsawaiting completion, but they must wait. One hundred and twenty men,working in three eight-hour shifts per day--forty at a time--could doall that was needed to the _Intrepid_ and _Terrific_, and not one manwas included who had not served at Devonport for at least ten years.Dawson had been very firm, and the Commander-in-Chief had backed himwith full authority. "Don't make any mistake," said Dawson. "Amongeven one hundred and twenty, though picked in this way, there will besome few who would sell us if they could. One would have to go backmore than ten years to weed out all those whom the Germans havecorrupted. But out of this lot there should not be more than two orthree swine, and I can look after them." He did not say that he hadalready been in touch with the Scotland Yard officer at Devonport, andhad arranged that a dozen out of his precious twenty-fourcounter-spies should be put among the chosen hundred and twenty.Dawson never did allow his left hand to know the wiles of his right.

  Under the thick cover of the autumn night two massive silent forms,which had crept with all lights out into the Sound after their longfast voyage from the northern mists, were warped into dock; thesupporting shores were fitted, and the water around them run out. Longbefore the flagship _Intrepid_ stood clear and dry on the dock floor,Dawson, in his uniform of a private of Marines--"A Marine can goanywhere and do anything," he would say--had slipped on board andshown the Commander credentials from the Board of Admiralty which madethat hardened officer open his eyes. "My word," exclaimed he, "youmust be some Marine! Come along quick to the Admiral." So Dawson went,not a little nervous--the moment his foot trod the decks of a King'sship all his assurance dropped off, his old sense of discipline flowedback over him, and an Admiral became a very mighty potentate indeed.Ashore Dawson could face up to the Lord Jacquetot himself; on boardship a two-ring lieutenant was to him a god! He followed theCommander, and was ushered into the Admiral's presence. "What!" criedStocky, stern in manner always, but very kindly at heart towards thosewhom he found to be true men. "A private of Marines with plenarypowers from the First Lord? Take the papers off him and chuck thedamned comedian into the ditch. We have no time here for the FirstLord's humour." The Commander drew near and whispered. "What!Authority endorsed by Jacquetot? There is something queer about this.Look here, my fine fellow, who the devil are you? Are you a Marine, ora too clever German spy, or what? Make haste. There is still enoughwater left over the side to pitch you into without breaking your dirtyneck."

  Dawson knew his man. He had served in the same ship with Stocky whenthat officer had been a lieutenant; he had waited upon him in thewardroom. He had felt the rasp of his tongue in old days. Heapproached, and without saying a word handed the letters given him bythe First Lord and Jacquetot, adding his official card. The Admiralread the papers slowly and came at last to the card. Then his frowningbrows softened, and he smiled. It was the old smile of LieutenantStocky. "Why, it's Dawson who was my servant in the old _Olympus_; nowChief Inspector of Scotland Yard. That explains all. But why the hell,man, do you dress up as a Marine?"

  "Once a Marine, always a Marine," replied Dawson, who felt happier nowthat the Admiral had recognised him. "I can't keep out of the uniform,sir. Besides, it's very useful when I want to be about the docks."

  "My orders," said the Admiral, "are to dock, clean, coal, and be off.I am expecting more detailed instructions, but they have not yet come.These letters say that you will explain the programme here, and thatyou have been charged with full responsibility for keeping ourmovements secret. I am to give you all possible assistance. All right.Go ahead. What do you want of us?"

  Dawson rapidly told how the two dummy battle-cruisers had comestumbling into the Sound in the afternoon, and how the Three Townsbelieved that the _Intrepid_ and _Terrific_ were at that moment lyingon the shoals out of service for weeks to come. "No one must guess,"he concluded, "that the real _Intrepid_ and _Terrific_ are here safein dock, that they will go out two days hence in the middle of thenight, and dash away south to wipe Fritz's flag off the seas. We havepicked the dockyard hands with the greatest care, and have them underwatch like mice with cats all about them. If a single one of yourofficers or men goes out of the dock gates the game will be up and Iwon't answer for the consequences. Everything rests with you, sir.Will you give orders that no one, no one, not even you yourself, shallleave either of the battle-cruisers while they are in dock--no one,not for a minute."

  The Admiral laughed, and the officers in his room respectfully joinedin. "So we have been mined and are aground somewhere yonder on the mudsurrounded by sorrowing patrols. And the Three Towns are dropping salttears into their beer. It is a fine game, Dawson. I didn't believemuch in Lord Jacquetot's dummies, but they've come in darned usefulthis time. Are you going to keep Plymouth and Devonport in the dumpsfor long?"

  "Until you've done your work, sir," said Dawson.

  "So until then the _Intrepid_ and _Terrific_ will lie crippled in theSound for all the world to see and for Fritz to believe. If this verybright scheme is yours, Dawson, we will all drink your health downsouth as soon as our work has been done. For the credit will be yoursrather than ours. I will help you all I can; it is my duty and my verykeen desire. A man who can make so brilliant a plan for confoundingthe enemy's spies is worth a statue of gold. He is even worth thesacrifice of two day's leave while one's ship is in dock. What do yousay, gentlemen?"

  "I never thought," said the Flag Captain, "that I would willinglyspend two days shut up in a smelly dock, but you may count me in, sir.I won't head a mutiny when all leave is refused."

  "You shall have your way, Dawson. All leave stopped in both ships. Nota man is to go ashore on any pretence, no matter what the excuse. Themothers of the lower decks may all die--they always do when a ship isin port--but not a man shall leave to bury them. Give the orders inthe _Intrepid_, and ask the captain of the _Terrific_ to be so good asto come aboard."

  * * * * *

  "So far, good," exclaimed Dawson when he got back to his hotel andfound Froissart sitting up for him. "The ships are in and no one is tobe allowed ashore. I shall be in a fever till both of them are awayagain. We are on very thin ice, Froissart. It is lucky that thedockyard is on the Hamoaze, out of sight even of most of Devonport,and far away from Plymouth and Stonehouse. I have seen all the foremenof the dockyard myself, told them the whole trick which we are playingon the
Huns, and put them on their mettle to tackle their men. Theywill pitch it fine and strong on the honour and patriotism of completesilence, but not neglect to throw in a hint of the Defence of theRealm Act and penal servitude. Never threaten an Englishman,Froissart, but always let him know that behind your fine honourablesentiments there is something devilish nasty. Preach as loud as youcan about the beauty of virtue, but don't forget to chuck in adescription of the fiery Hell which awaits wrongdoers. I don't dependmuch either on the sentiments or the hints of punishment. I've gotevery man of that hundred and twenty on my string, and if one of themasks leave, within the next day or two, to go and bury his mother onthe East Coast, he shall go--but I shall go with him, and he shallhave a jolly little funeral of his own. Every letter which they writewill be read, every telegram copied for me, every message by 'phonetaken down. They are on my string, Froissart--every man."

  "You do everything, Mr. Dawson," grumbled Froissart. "Where do I comein?"

  "You have helped me a lot already," replied Dawson handsomely. "Youbeing a foreigner make me talk very simple and plain, and think out myplans so that I can explain them to you. One sees the weak points of ascheme when one has to make it clear to a foreigner. You don't alwaystwig my meaning, Froissart, and sometimes your remarks are a bitfoolish; but you mean well, and, for a Frenchman, are quiteintelligent. I will say that for you, Froissart--quite intelligent."

  "_Sacre nom d'un chien_--" began Froissart hotly; but Dawson paid noheed. He just went on talking, and Froissart, realising that Dawsoncould not understand his French, and that he himself could not givewords to his feelings in English, relapsed into wrathful silence. Muchas I respect and admire Dawson, I should not care to be hissubordinate.

  "We must keep the cinema show going nice and lively for the ThreeTowns," went on Dawson. "A big salvage steamer is coming downto-morrow to give an air of verisimilitude to the proceedings. Patrolboats will buzz about the Sound, and the potentates, naval and civil,will gather from all parts. The unfortunate wrecks out at PicklecombePoint will be guarded so that no shore boat can get within half amile. They won't bear a very close inspection. I hope that none of theguns will break loose and float about the harbour. That would be whatyou might call a blooming contretemps. I shall be pretty busy all thenext two days myself. Though I am a strict teetotaller, I shall getinto shore rig and spend my days in the public bars. I must know whatthe Three Towns are talking about, and whether any suspicion of thetruth gets wind. I don't think that it can; at least, for some time.The stage management has been too good. Later on there may be somewonderment because none of the men from the _Intrepid_ and _Terrific_are allowed ashore. A lot of wives and families must be around here,especially as the _Intrepid_ is a Plymouth ship. Of course it must begiven out that they are all needed to help with the salvageoperations, and no leave is allowed. You, Froissart, might spend yourtime reading copies of all telegrams sent out from the Towns. If anyGerman agent wants to get news of the damage to the battle-cruisersover to Holland, he will probably travel up to the East Coast and senda wire on ahead. That is what I hope for. You shall then follow himup, and make smooth the path of crime. Half our trouble will be lostunless we can help the spoof news over to the Kaiser, bless him. Thejob, at first, will be pretty dull for you, Froissart, and not overlively for me. I hate pubs, yet for two days I must loaf about them,pretending to drink. You can read the telegrams, but you can'tunderstand English well enough to pick up the gossip of the bars. Imust do that myself."

  "You have stopped all leave on the battle-cruisers--the real ones, Imean--but what about the dockyard men," inquired Froissart. "Are theyto be allowed to go to their homes when they come off their shifts?"

  "I have thought of that and weighed both sides. It will be safer tolet them go home as usual. If we locked them all up in the dockyardtill the _Intrepid_ and _Terrific_ were both safe away, there would beno end of curiosity and gossip. What so very special, people wouldask, could be going on in the yard that no one was allowed out for twodays. I don't want wives and families and neighbours to come smellinground those dockyard gates. They might see the spotting tops of thecruisers inside. Of course there is a regular forest of masts andgantries showing, and a couple of spotting tops more or less might notbe noticed. But my general idea is to concentrate attention on thosedear old dummies down at Picklecombe Point. They are the centre ofinterest, the eye of the picture--the cynosure, as a scholar wouldsay. I am not a bad scholar myself. I passed the seventh standard, andwent to school all the time I was in the Red Marines. I was asergeant, which takes a bit of doing. But see here, Froissart,"exclaimed Dawson, looking at his watch, "it is five o'clock, and wemust get quick to bed so as to be bright and lively in the morning."

  Dawson carried out his programme. Though a strict teetotaller, hepassed hours at public houses, especially in the evenings, listeningto the talk of the port. It was all about the disaster in the SouthSeas, the heavy casualties suffered by the Three Towns, and the rottenill-luck of the avenging battle-cruisers running upon the Germanmines. Not a whisper could Dawson hear of suspicion that the shipsbeached under Mount Edgcumbe were other than the genuine article. Thesalvage steamer with her big arc lights glowing through the darknesshad been the last artistic touch which brought complete conviction.Gold-laced officers, including the Commander-in-Chief himself, hadbeen coming and going all day; the acting of the Navy had beenperfect. Dawson blessed the four bones of old Jacquetot, who, when hetackles a job, does it very thoroughly indeed. "I should not besurprised," thought he, "if the Mountain, as that young Jackanapescalled him, came trotting down here himself just to make the showcomplete." And sure enough he did, accompanied by the Fourth Sea Lordwho had worked out all the convincing details. Dawson was ordered tomeet them in the Admiral's quarters of the _Intrepid_. He went,looking a very different person from the private of Marines of somethirty hours earlier, and had the honour of being invited to luncheon.That lunch was the one scene in the comedy upon which he dwelt intelling the story to me. "Lord Jacquetot," he said, "clinked glasseswith me and wished me the best of luck and success. It was as much ashe could do, he said, to keep the First Lord from coming down andmonkeying the whole affair. Luckily there was a debate in Parliamentthat he wanted to figure in, and so couldn't get away. Lord Jacquetotsaid that the First Lord had grabbed the whole scheme as his very own,and forgotten that I had any part in it. I don't mind. The SecretService never gets any credit for anything. If it did, it wouldn't beSecret very long."

  "No credit," I remarked, "and not much cash I expect."

  "Little enough, sir," replied Dawson. "I suppose we do the job for thelove of it. There's no sport like it. Our real work never gets intothe papers or the story-books."

  "Never?" I asked slily. "What about that story of mine in the_Cornhill Magazine_, which you still carry about next your heart?"

  Dawson changed the subject. He never will appreciate chaff.

  At midnight of the day of the luncheon party the _Intrepid_ and_Terrific_, clean and fully loaded, cleared out of dock and slippedoff into the darkness attended by their destroyer escort, whose dutyit was to see them safe round Ushant. Eight hours later Dawson camedown to breakfast and found that Froissart, satisfied with his _petitdejeuner_ of coffee and rolls, had already gone out. Dawson feltsatisfied with himself, and was confident now that his work in theThree Towns had been well and truly done. The rest could be left tothe Navy, and to his Secret Service agents. He sat down to a heartymeal, but was not destined to finish it. First came a messenger fromthe Officer in charge of the Dockyard, who handed over a sealed noteand took a receipt for it. Dawson broke the seal. "Dear Mr. Dawson,"he read, "You will be interested to learn that one of the handsengaged upon the work we know of has asked for three days' leave--thathe may bury his mother in Essex. She died, he says, at Burnham. Iawait your views before granting the leave asked for. The man has beenin our service for sixteen years, and bears the best of characters."

  "Now what do I know of Burnham?" muttered Dawson. "The n
ame seemsfamiliar." He rang the bell, asked for an atlas, and studied carefullythe coast of Essex. Burnham stood upon the river Crouch, which Dawsonhad heard of as a famous resort for motor-boats. His eyes gleamed, andhe threw up his head, which had been bent over the map. "The man shallhave his leave," murmured he. "But I don't think it will be his motherwho is buried."

  Just at that moment in came Froissart, looking, as Dawson at onceremarked, merry and bright. "It is no wonder," said he, "for see thistelegram of which I have just had a copy. It was spotted at once atthe Bureau, and the man who despatched it has been shadowed by apolice officer." The telegram read, "Coming to-day by South Western.Meet me this evening at usual place." It was addressed toBurnham-on-Crouch in Essex.

  Dawson picked up the note which he had received and passed it toFroissart, who read it slowly. "The same place!" cried he.

  "Yes," said Dawson slowly, "the same place, and a famous resort formotor-boats. We have not finished yet, my friend, with the _Intrepid_and _Terrific_"