The Long Trick Part 24

His companions followed his example and continued their futile mechanical paddling with averted heads.

The bow-oar of the German boat, who had a blood-stained bandage round his head, also stared.

"_Englander!_" he said. "_Verdammte Schweine!_" and added, "_Funf!_ ..." whereupon he and his companions also averted their heads, because they were four.

They pa.s.sed each other thus. The waves that washed over the raft rolled the dead man's head to and fro, as if he found the situation rather preposterous.

CHAPTER XI

THE AFTERMATH

Such was the Battle of the Mist, a triumphant a.s.sertion after nearly two years of vigil and waiting, of British Sea Power. It commenced with a cloud of smoke on the horizon no larger than a man's hand. Its consequences and effects spread out in widening ripples through s.p.a.ce and time, changing the vast policies of nations, engulfing thousands of humble lives and hopes and destinies. Centuries hence the ripples will still be was.h.i.+ng up the flotsam of that fight on the sh.o.r.es of human life. Long after the last survivor has pa.s.sed to dust the echo of the British and German guns will rumble in ears not yet conceived. Princes will hear it in the chimes of their marriage bells; it will accompany the scratching of diplomatists' pens and the creaking wheels of the pioneer's ox-wagon. It will sound above the clatter of Baltic s.h.i.+p-yards and in the silence of the desert where the caravan routes stretch white beneath the moon. The Afghan, bending knife in hand over a whetstone, and the Chinese coolie knee-deep in his wet paddy-fields, will pause in their work to listen to the sound, uncomprehending, even while the dust is gathering on the labours of the historian and the novelist....

But this tale does not aspire to deal with the wide issues or significances of the war. It is an endeavour to trace the threads of certain lives a little way through a loosely-woven fabric of great events. At the conclusion there will be ends unfinished; the colours of some will have changed to grey and others will have vanished into the warp; but the design is so vast and the loom so near that we, in our day and generation, can hope to glimpse but a very little of the whole.

The India-rubber Man sat on the edge of the Wardroom table with his cap tilted on the back of his head, eating bread and cold bacon. The mess was illuminated by three or four candles stuck in empty saucers and placed along the table amid the debris of a meal. The dim light shone on the forms of a dozen or so of officers; some were seated at the table eating, others wandered restlessly about with food in one hand and a cup in the other. The tall, thin Lieutenant known as Tweedledum was pacing thoughtfully to and fro with a pipe in his mouth and his hands deep in his trousers pockets.

There had been little conversation. When anyone spoke it was in the dull, emotionless tones of profound fatigue. One, just out of the circle of candle-light, had pushed his plate from him on the completion of his meal, and had fallen asleep with his head resting on his outstretched arms. The remaining faces lit by the yellow candle-light were drawn, streaked with dirt and ornamented by a twenty-four hours'

growth of stubble. All wore an air of utter weariness, as of men who had pa.s.sed through some soul-shaking experience.

The door opened to admit the First Lieutenant. He clumped in hastily, wearing huge leather sea-boots. Beneath his cap his head was swathed in the neat folds of bandages whose whiteness contrasted with his smoke-blackened faced and singed, begrimed uniform.

"Hullo!" he said, "circuits gone here, too?" He peered round the table. "My word!" he exclaimed. "Hot tea! Who made it? The galley's a heap of wreckage." He poured himself out a cup and drank thirstily.

"A-A-ah! That's grateful and comforting."

"I made it," said the Paymaster. "With my own fair hands I boiled the kettle and made tea for you all. Greater love than this has no man."

"Reminds me," said a voice out of the shadows, "that Mouldy got rather badly cut about the head and lost the best part of his left hand. He went reeling past me during the action yesterday evening with young Morton slung over his shoulder: he was staring in front of him like a man walking in his sleep."

"He was," confirmed the Paymaster. "In the execution of my office as leading hand of the first-aid party, I gave him chloroform while the P.M.O. carved bits off him." The speaker rested his head on his hand and closed his eyes. "Next time we go into action," he continued, as if speaking to himself, "someone else can take that job on."

"What job?" asked the India-rubber Man, suddenly turning his head and speaking with his mouth full.

"Fore medical distributing station. I've done a meat-course at Smithfield market ... slaughter-houses before breakfast, don't you know? I thought I could stick a good deal----" The Paymaster opened his eyes suddenly. "I tell you, it was what the sailor calls b.l.o.o.d.y ... just b.l.o.o.d.y."

"How is young Morton?" asked the First Lieutenant.

No one appeared to know, for the enquiry went unanswered. The tall figure pacing restlessly to and fro stopped and eyed the First Lieutenant.

"Tweedledee's killed," he said dully. "Dead..." He resumed his thoughtful walk and a moment later repeated the last word in a low voice, reflectively. "Dead ..."

"I know," said the First Lieutenant.

Tweedledum halted again. "I wouldn't care if we had absolutely wiped them off the face of the earth--sunk every one of them, I mean. We ought to have, with just such a very little luck.... And now they've slipped through our fingers, in the night." Tweedledum extended a thin, nervous hand, opening and clenching the fingers. "Like slimy eels."

"Some did," said the India-rubber Man musingly, filling a pipe. "Some didn't. I only saw our guns actually sink one German Battles.h.i.+p; but the visibility was awful, and we weren't the only pebble on the beach; our line was miles long, remember."

"I saw one of their Battle-cruisers on fire and sinking," said Gerrard.

"I was in the top. And all night long our Destroyers were attacking them. Two big s.h.i.+ps blew up during the night." He cut a hunk of bread and spread it thickly with marmalade. "We must have knocked seven-bells out of 'em. And we didn't lose a single Battles.h.i.+p."

"Must have lost a Battle-cruiser or two, though," said the Engineer Lieutenant, sitting with his head between his hands and his forefingers propping open his eyelids. "d.a.m.n it, they fought the whole German Fleet single-handed till we arrived! Must have..." His voice trailed off and his fingers released his eyelids which closed instantly. His chin dropped on to his chest, and he slept.

"Any other officer scuppered besides Tweedledee?" asked the Major of Marines. "What's up with your head, Number One?"

"Only scratched by a splinter. A nearish thing. I haven't heard of anybody else. We really got off very lightly considering they found our range." The First Lieutenant clumped off towards the door. "Now I must go and see about clearing up the mess. I reckon it's all over bar the shouting."

As he went out Thorogood entered the Wardroom. "Would anyone like a nice beef lozenge?" he enquired, removing a packet from his pocket.

"Owner having no further use for same."

"Where are we going?" asked the Paymaster. "I should like to go home, I think, if it could be arranged conveniently, James?"

"Not to-day," was the reply. "We're looking for the lame ducks on the scene of yesterday's action. It's very rough and blowing like blue blazes, so I don't suppose there are many lame ducks left afloat--poor devils.... With any luck we ought to get in to-morrow morning, though."

The sleeping figure with the outstretched arms suddenly raised his head and blinked at Thorogood. "Where's the elusive Hun?" he demanded.

"'Opped it," was the reply. "Otherwise vamoosed----"

"Singing 'I'm afraid to go home in the dark,'" interposed the India-rubber Man dryly. He got down off the table and stretched his arms. "Well, I shan't be sorry to get some sleep."

"Sleep!" echoed Thorogood. "You ought to see the stokers' mess-deck.

The watch-off have just come up from below after sixteen hours in the stokeholds. They're lying sprawling all over the deck like a lot of black corpses--just all-in."

Tweedledum sat down on the corner of the table vacated by the India-rubber Man.

"I wish I knew exactly how many of them we did sink before the Commander-in-Chief called off the Destroyers this morning," he said plaintively.

"So would a lot of people," replied Thorogood. "We're three hundred miles from home, and there's every reason to suppose there are one or two submarines and mines on the way. Those of us who get back will probably find out all we want to know in time. I shouldn't worry, Tweedledum. In fact, I don't see why you shouldn't get a bit of sleep while you can."

"By Jove!" said Gerrard as a sudden thought struck him. "I wonder if they know all about it at home yet. Won't our people be bucked!"

"And the papers," added the Captain of Marines. "Can't you hear the paper-boys yelling, 'Speshul Edition! Great Naval Victory!' My word, I'd like to be in town when the news comes out." He considered the mental picture his imagination had conjured up. "I think I should get tight...!" he said.

The village street had a curiously deserted air when Betty walked up it on her way to the post office. The mail train had pa.s.sed through about an hour before, and as a rule about this time the tenants of the rooms and cottages on the hill-side made their way to the post office at the corner to collect their letters and chat in twos and threes round the windows of the little shops.

In the distance Betty saw a little group gathered in front of the boards that displayed the contents bill of the morning paper before the windows of the village stationer's. Recognising Eileen Cavendish, Betty quickened her pace, but as she drew near the group dispersed and Mrs. Cavendish entered the shop. Betty stopped for an instant as the flaring letters on the poster became visible, stared, took a couple of paces and stopped again opposite the boards; then she gave a little gasp, and with a thumping heart entered the low doorway of the little shop. The next moment she collided with Eileen Cavendish who was blundering out, holding an open newspaper in front of her. Her face was white under the shadow of her broad-brimmed hat, and her blue eyes like those of a terrified child.

"Have you heard?" she said, and thrust the sheet under Betty's eyes.

"There's been a big action.... Our losses are published, but no details."

"Names?" cried Betty. "Oh, let me see!"