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For half-an-hour they worked in a kind of frenzy at the pumps, striving to keep the stricken ship afloat. It seemed that their efforts were successful; for, though the "Harlech" had taken on a marked list to port, and her stern was lifted a good six feet in the water, she seemed to be still seaworthy and as yet showed no signs of settling down. The "Dresden" was now not much more than four miles in the wake of the fugitive ship, which did little more than crawl.

At such a range shrapnel is at its worst and deadliest. Shell after shell burst upon the "Harlech," until the masts were splintered, the decks riddled, and the rigging cut and torn in a thousand places. The top of one of the funnels had been blown away; the glass windows of the chart-house had been driven in.

Presently the shell fire became so severe, and there had been so many casualties among the crew, that it became impossible to continue to work the pumps. No one could live upon the deck; and something in the nature of a stampede was made to the saloon, whither the wounded had been carried.

Jimmy, who had been working at the pumps, had been one of the last to leave. His courage had not passed unnoticed by Captain Crouch, who found himself at a loss to reconcile two facts: firstly, that Jimmy had displayed a supreme contempt for danger, and secondly, that the boy was presumed to be a German spy.

As a great shell struck the mainmast, and brought down a spar upon the deck to which was attached the tattered shreds of what had once been the flag of England, the boy sought safety in the forecastle. There, one of the first things that met his eyes was a sea-chest, the lid of which had been broken open by the force of the concussion by which it had been hurled across the deck. Upon one of the broken pieces of this box were inscribed in black lettering the two words: RUDOLF STORK.

This was no time upon which to stand upon ceremony. There is no such thing as private property in time of war-as, during the long months of this colossal combat, Europe has learnt to her cost. Jimmy Burke had suspicions of his own, which he had cause to know were well grounded. Chance had brought an opportunity to hand which he was not slow to take. In a second he was down on all fours, turning out the contents of Stork's sea-chest, which appeared to have been filled with nothing but documents and papers, the majority of which were in the handwriting of Rosencrantz, the tool of the Baron von Essling.

What these papers were Jimmy was given no opportunity of finding out; for, hardly had he picked up the first to examine it more closely, than he was suddenly seized from behind by the scruff of the neck.

With a quick movement he managed to free himself, escaping to the windlass, which is in the very peak of the ship. There he found himself cut off by Rudolf Stork, who stood immediately before him, so that there was no means of exit from the forecastle.

Stork was like a madman. He wore nothing but a shirt and a pair of trousers. Upon his left shoulder there was a patch of blood where he had been struck by a shrapnel bullet. Even in the semi-darkness of that place, Jimmy could see that the man was in such an insensate fit of fury that his eyes were gleaming like coals of fire.

With a loud oath, hurled through his teeth in the direction of the boy, he gathered his papers together in an armful, and hurled them through a port-hole into the sea.

"And now," he cried, "you infernal young dog, I'll do for you!"

Suddenly, as he picked up a marlinspike that happened to be lying close at hand upon the deck, with an expression stamped upon every feature of his face that could mean nothing short of murder, a loud British cheer came from somewhere amidships that was clearly audible in spite of the bursting shells and the incessant thunder of the "Dresden's" guns. Stork paused in the very act of raising his weapon to strike.

"What's that?" he cried.

No sooner had the words left his lips than the cheer was raised a second time, louder than before. And then the voice of Captain Crouch rang out, in which there was a clear note of triumph.

"Back to the pumps!" he shouted. "Boys, we'll save her yet."

CHAPTER X-The Mysterious Message

No doubt we should always be prepared for the unexpected, but the fact remains that we very seldom are. In this case, the voice of Captain Crouch carried from one end of the ship to the other, bringing a sudden ray of hope into the heart of every man that heard it, that was like a flash of light in a darkened room.

Every living soul on board-including the ship's carpenter himself-had already given himself up for lost. The "Harlech" was apparently in a sinking condition, and under the continual and merciless fire of the enemy cruiser. They were miles from anywhere, in the very midst of the ocean; and it had seemed as if nothing could save them from a watery grave, or, at least, captivity. And suddenly, the intelligence was burst upon them that the ship might yet be saved. The crew had been ordered to return to the pumps. The unexpected had occurred.

Now, curiosity is a very natural sentiment that at times overcomes even the strongest impulse. For the moment, Stork forgot that he was on the point of committing murder; Jimmy Burke, that his life was in the greatest peril. Without a thought for one another, both rushed out upon the well-deck, to learn what had happened.

The "Harlech" still listed so much that the decks sloped at an angle of almost twenty degrees. It was then afternoon, though the sun was still high. The "Dresden" lay to the north-east, her great guns sounding in quick succession, like peal after peal of thunder immediately overhead. Though the shells still shrieked through the rigging, or burst their way through the fragile sides of the ship, all eyes were turned towards the south, in which quarter Captain Crouch upon the bridge was directing his enormous telescope. Jimmy, regardless of his danger, dashed up the steps that led to the forecastle-peak, and shading his eyes against the glare of the sun, looked in the same direction.

It was some moments before he was able to make out anything at all; and then, suddenly, he discerned quite clearly the funnels-from each of which proceeded a thin trail of smoke-of three separate ships that appeared to be advancing in line, steaming forward with rapidity and making straight for the "Dresden."

Suddenly, Captain Crouch tucked his telescope under his arm, and shouted to Stork, who was still upon the well-deck, to take charge of the party that was again working at the pumps. And hardly had the words left his lips than from the south there came a heavy thudding sound that was like a thunder-clap in the distance, and a few seconds later, a great shell screamed immediately overhead, to send up a fountain of water several feet into the air, not more than forty yards from the "Dresden's" bows.

A loud cheer was lifted by the crew of the "Harlech" – the men who saw on a sudden, as if newly awakened from a nightmare, that deliverance was, indeed, at hand. For yonder, bearing straight in their direction, the tolling of the great guns echoing across the sea, were three ships of the British Navy, racing towards the enemy like as many joyful greyhounds loosed together from the leash.

They were indeed three greyhounds of the sea: the "Glasgow," the 27-knot cruiser that had escaped from the fatal fight off Coronel, when the "Monmouth" and the "Good Hope" went down before the weight of the German guns; the "Kent," which had run down and sunk the "Leipzig"; and the "Invincible," the splendid armoured cruiser-the first of its kind-whose twelve-inch guns had sent to the bottom the "Scharnhorst" and the "Gneisenau," to avenge the death of Cradock. These were ships that had been tempered in the stern forge of warfare, that had been tried and not found wanting; even then, they had come from a great victory in the south. As they swept down upon the foe, there was something in the outline of their dark and threatening hulls, in the very smoke that issued from their funnels, that made them appear, in very truth, invincible and ruthless.

One after the other, in quick succession, their great guns opened fire, until the sound was deafening, and it was as if the broad waters were alive. Everywhere were great living fountains in the sea, and around each one the water was churned white as snow.

The "Dresden," which was completed in the year 1907, had been built with the idea of speed, and was but lightly armed. She carried only ten four-inch guns and two torpedo-tubes, and with these she could not hope to put up a fight against such a powerful adversary as the "Invincible." In an old, time-worn phrase, she questioned not the order of her going, but, putting her helm about, fled like a startled roe at very sight of those who had marked her down.

It is impossible to describe the feelings of the men on board the "Harlech." They had been rescued, at the eleventh hour, from the very jaws of death; and the sudden knowledge that they, at last, were safe, combined with a sense of relief that the living shells were no longer hooting and shrieking about their ears, had a singular effect not only on every member of the crew, but even upon Captain Crouch himself.

One and all, they worked at the pumps in a kind of frenzied joy, and as they worked, they cheered. It soon became manifest that the "Harlech" would be saved. She had been struck upon the water-line; the forward holds had filled; and had the sea been rough, there is no doubt she would have gone down with all hands on board. As it was, she shipped no water that the pumps were not able to eject. Even as the men worked, her bows rose, inch by inch, to their normal level above the surface of the sea.

The "Invincible" rushed past, and signalled to the "Harlech," asking if she needed help. Crouch, who was a fighting man by nature, knew well enough that the object of all war is to damage the enemy, and that it was a sound principle, both in practice and in theory, to let the wounded lie. The "Harlech" was wounded; she lay upon the water like a winged duck, for the time being crippled and quite useless. The main business of the British armoured cruiser was to overhaul and sink the "Dresden." If she stayed to give help to the merchant ship, if she slowed down and changed her course, the German would stand the better chance of escape. Captain Crouch, therefore, did not hesitate to send back the answer that he was well able to take care of himself; at the same time, he made so bold as to wish His Majesty's ships the very best of luck.

By then, the "Dresden" was almost out of sight, steaming due north-eastward, with the full power of her engines. As the chase continued, the English men-of-war became strung out, the "Invincible" and "Glasgow" leading, the "Kent" falling behind. In every hold the stokers were hard at work, shovelling with frantic energy more coal upon the furnaces, until the sky-line was black with long clouds of rolling smoke. Until the sun went down in a flood of red upon the western sky-line, and darkness spread slowly across the illimitable ocean, this headlong chase continued.

The "Dresden" held her own, keeping within long range of the great guns of the armoured cruiser. As they learnt afterwards, under cover of night, she turned south again, thus escaping from her pursuers. She had been designed as a commerce-destroyer, and, together with her sister-ship the "Emden," was well suited to evade more powerful and heavily armoured ships. On this occasion, she got away in safety; but, a few weeks afterwards, she met with the inevitable fate that was in store for her, and hauled down her flag-so that the ensign of the German Navy vanished from the seas.

With matters of historical importance we are only secondarily concerned. The business of this narrative is with Jimmy Burke, and also, in a less degree, with Captain Crouch. Crouch had not spoken rashly when he signalled that the "Harlech" stood in no need of help. He had already satisfied himself that the vessel would remain afloat. Thanks to Providence, the damage she had sustained was nearly all above the water-line; and this was due very largely to the fact that the "Dresden" for the most part had fired shrapnel at decisive range.

This had been done with an object. The German captain desired nothing better than that the merchant ship should haul down her colours and surrender. She had-as he probably knew-a valuable cargo on board; and besides, the tons of coal she carried in her bunkers would be of infinite value to a ship to whom all coaling stations were closed by the extended pressure of the British Navy. Had the "Dresden" wished to sink the "Harlech," there is no doubt she could have done so straight away. As it was, in pursuance of the Prussian policy of frightfulness, it had been her object to terrorize the crew. Moreover, being in complete ignorance of the fact that the British cruisers were rapidly drawing down upon him, the captain of the "Dresden" had imagined that he had plenty of time upon his hands.

He very nearly paid the penalty of over-confidence. He escaped by the skin of his teeth, leaving the "Harlech" still floating, but a battered hulk.

All that night, Crouch and his men worked in desperation. On board the ship was a perfect hubbub of hammering, hastening to and fro and the giving of orders. Such holes in the ship's sides as were likely to prove dangerous, should the sea get up, were repaired in rough, eager haste; and not until then did Crouch give orders to clear away the debris of the superstructure from the main-deck and hatchways.

By daybreak the following morning, the ship-though still in a sorry plight-was pronounced seaworthy and well able to continue on her voyage. And by that time, also, by sheer chance alone, there had fallen into the hands of Jimmy Burke something of the most significant importance, upon which-as will afterwards appear-the whole thread of this narrative depends.

The boy had been set to work upon the forward well-deck, clearing away, by the light of a lantern, the pieces of shattered and twisted iron and broken woodwork that lay everywhere upon the riddled, splintered decks. On a sudden, he had come across a half sheet of note-paper, caught in the cogs of one of the winches and smeared with grease and oil.

Now, there is nothing remarkable in a half sheet of note-paper; and there is small doubt that Jimmy would not have hesitated to throw it away at once, had he not remembered that he had seen this very paper before. It was the kind of paper that was used largely in the offices of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, in New York. It was a blue paper, upon the top of which had been stamped the initials of the firm: R.&G.

It was a half sheet that had been torn carelessly, and which in consequence was wider at the top than at the bottom. Jimmy was positive that he had seen it in the sea-chest of Rudolf Stork. And therefore, instead of throwing it overboard, he put it furtively into one of the pockets of his coat, perfectly certain that, when Stork had thrown his papers away in such alarmed, suspicious haste, this single piece had been blown back upon the deck. It contained about five lines in a bold handwriting, rather large and sprawling; and Jimmy had a mind to read it as soon as a suitable opportunity occurred.

That did not happen till early the following afternoon, when he found himself alone in the forecastle, with half-an-hour to spare. He pulled out the sheet of paper from his pocket, and holding it to the porthole light made out the following mysterious and vague announcement-

Steamboat entrance verified. Evening navigate. Follow idea. Vernacular encumbrance. Enter into Guinea half-speed.

He read it over and over again; and the more he read it, the more ridiculous and senseless did it seem. He could see no meaning in the words at all, or rather, the sentences appeared quite unconnected one with the other.

He read it so often that he very soon knew it word for word by heart. And throughout the remainder of that voyage, until the very evening when a great calamity befell them, he racked his brains continually to find some solution of the riddle.

The probability was that these strange words meant something. The handwriting, though unknown to him, was sufficiently angular in its characteristics to suggest that it belonged to a German; and that, together with the fact that Rudolf Stork was undoubtedly a German spy, was firm ground for suspicion. But, to discover-if such existed-some unknown and hidden meaning was no such easy matter.

CHAPTER XI-The Middle Watch

Throughout the next few days Jimmy found himself in a veritable whirlpool of perplexity and doubt. He knew quite well what he ought to do, but could see no way of doing it. Hitherto, affairs had been going persistently against him.

In the first place, he knew that Rudolf Stork was a spy, and the man was probably on his way to England on some secret business not unconnected with the war. It was Stork who had broken open the cases of cargo in the after-hold, to find them filled with service rifles for the British army. Again, the man had given proof of his own guilt when, during the panic that ensued when the ship was believed to be sinking, he had cast the contents of his sea-chest overboard. That the papers in question had been of an incriminating nature could not be doubted; the strange message, written upon a half sheet of note-paper, was probably in some code which could be deciphered easily enough at the Headquarters of the German Secret Service in Berlin. It was even possible that Stork had managed to convey the intelligence to the "Dresden" that the "Harlech" was carrying contraband goods in the shape of munitions of war. They had been saved at the eleventh hour; but there was no certain guarantee that Stork-if he was really guilty of such treachery-might not attempt to betray the ship again to enemy submarines, as soon as they had gained English waters.

On board the whole ship, Jimmy alone was conscious of the danger in which they stood. Stork, by the depth of his perfidy and his outrageous cunning, had managed to put Captain Crouch upon a false scent, by levelling an accusation at the only person who was fully aware of his own guilt.

Jimmy knew all this, and thought it out, time and again, during the long watches of the night; and in the end, he determined to interview Captain Crouch, to see if the little sea-captain could be persuaded to listen to his story even for a few minutes.

With this object in view, Jimmy waited an opportunity which did not present itself for some time. In the first place, the captain was seldom alone, and Jimmy-by Crouch's orders-was never allowed to work by himself. It was not until they were nearing the south coast of Ireland, and Crouch was growing anxious in regard to prowling submarines from Kiel and Wilhelmshaven, that the boy was able to seize his chance.

It was during the middle watch at night, and Jimmy, who had not been to sleep, saw a light suddenly appear in the captain's cabin. At the same time, the aquiline and birdlike features of Captain Crouch were silhouetted against one of the portholes that looked out upon the forecastle and the forward well-deck.

Jimmy slipped from his bunk, crossed the well-deck, and reached the main-deck by way of the companion-ladder.

He found the door of the captain's cabin ajar, and looking in, saw Crouch bending over a chart. The atmosphere of the room was thick with the smoke of Bull's Eye Shag, and the extraordinary pungent odour of this strange tobacco was wafted along the deck.

It was as much as Jimmy could do to summon sufficient courage to knock; and when, at last, he did so, the sound of the captain's gruff voice, which was not unlike the sharp bark of a dog, caused him visibly to start.

"Come in," said Crouch. "Come in."

Jimmy, recognizing that he was about to take the bull by the horns, screwed up all his courage, took in a deep breath, and entered the room.

The moment he set eyes upon the boy, Crouch set his brows in a frown.

"You!" he exclaimed. "I thought I gave definite orders that on no account were you to attempt to see me."

Jimmy, who had intended to maintain a bold front throughout the interview, found all his resolution vanish before the single piercing eye of Captain Crouch. He took another step forward, and brought both his hands together with the gesture of one who begs for mercy.

"Please, hear me, sir," he pleaded. "I have something of the utmost importance to tell you. I declare that I will speak nothing but the truth."

"Do you mean," said Crouch, "that you have come at this hour of the night to confess that you are a German spy?"

"I mean nothing of the sort, sir. I am innocent."

Crouch turned upon his heel with a gesture of impatience.

"You mean to lie," said he; "you mean to lie to the end. You belong to a breed of liars."

"I come of English blood, sir," answered Jimmy. "My family has a good name."

The boy was going on to speak of "Swiftsure Burke," and the Admiral's gallant deeds, when Crouch took him up in a voice of thunder that must have been audible to the officer on watch upon the bridge.

"I care nothing for your pedigree," said he; "for ought I know you may be descended from Peter the Hermit. If you've got the good name you say, you can clear it in a public court, as soon as ever you are set ashore in England."

"Sir," said Jimmy, "the clearing of my good name will not help to save your ship."

Crouch looked up.

"What d'ye mean?" he asked.

"I mean, sir, that I am innocent, as I have said, but there is one on board this ship who is, in truth, a spy."

"Who?" asked the captain.

"The ship's carpenter," said Jimmy.

"Rudolf Stork?"

"The same, sir; the man who accused me falsely."

Crouch shook his head.

"You ask me to take your word against his? Why should I do so? There's a plain question as from one man to another-though you're nothing more than a boy. If I believe him, I take the word of a man who came to me with a good character, who has done his work well since he has been aboard. If I believe you, I put my trust in one against whom the evidence is overwhelming, who slunk on board this ship like a thief in the night. No, my lad; I'm a plain man, and, I hope, a fair one. I've a good share of common sense. I want to do the right thing, as any God-fearing man should do; but, I've formed my opinion of you, and I'm not disposed to alter it. One thing, and one thing only, is in your favour. The other day, when the ship was in danger, when we were under fire from that pirate's guns, I noticed that you behaved yourself like a man. When the shrapnel shells were bursting in the rigging, you were the last hand to leave the pumps. I saw that myself, and I'm grateful. But it's not proof, mind you. You're a plucky lad, sure enough, else you'd never have taken on the job you're doing now. I give credit where credit's due; but, the fact that you have a certain amount of courage goes rather to prove, than to disprove, that you are a German spy."

The captain paused, knocked out his pipe upon the toe of his cork foot into a large spittoon that stood upon the floor, and then gave vent to a grunt which might have signified either satisfaction or disapproval.

Jimmy saw that there was nothing left to him but to produce such evidence as was afforded by the strange message upon the half sheet of note-paper. With trembling hands, he drew this from his pocket, and held it towards Captain Crouch.

"I found that," said he.

He had meant to say much more, but a sense of injured innocence and indignation, and a full realization of his own helplessness, made it difficult for him to control his voice.

Crouch looked at the paper, turning it over several times in his hand, and then read it aloud.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"It belonged to Stork, sir," muttered Jimmy.

"And what of that, my boy? What does it mean?"

"I can't say, sir," stammered Jimmy. "I thought that, perhaps, you might be able to explain. It has some hidden meaning. I know that Stork is a German spy."

Crouch crumpled the paper in his hand and hurled it across the cabin in a fit of impatience. "Hidden meaning to Jericho!" he roared. "Go to a younger man than me, and one who knows less of the world, with an old wives' tale like that. This is so much gibberish, written by an idle sailor who thought to ape the scholar, when he had been better employed sail-making or splicing ropes. Go back to bed, my lad, and worry me no longer. I hold fast to my resolve; you shall be tried for your life in Portsmouth by a proper legal court, and if you can't give a satisfactory account of yourself, as sure as a typhoon in August in the China Seas, you'll swing for a German spy."

Without a word, poor Jimmy Burke left the captain's cabin, more heartbroken and despondent than he had ever been before. Captain Crouch, for all his virtues-and these, as we are soon to learn, were many-was a hard man by nature, and, moreover, one who was as obstinate and pertinacious as any rough and weather-beaten mariner can be.