Thus, while the _Frome_, lured on a false scent, was running westward, the _Independencia_ ex-_Impregnable_ was steaming southward, ready like a beast of prey to pounce down upon the first unsuspecting merchant ship that came across Cervillo's course.
"I BELIEVE we're on a fool's errand," remarked Fielding to the midshipman.
They were on the bridge; Drake had turned in. It was now two bells of the middle watch (1 a.m.), and the _Frome_ was still heading westward as fast as her motors could impart power to the three undamaged propellers. Beyond the rhythmical purr of the engines, the "swish" of the water as the destroyer's knife-like bow cleft the waves, and the mournful slatting of the signal halliards against the mast, hardly a sound was audible.
"Why, sir?" asked Cardyke, lowering his night-glasses, and stepping behind the shelter of the "storm-dodgers."
"Why--because I think we are. We ought to have overhauled our quarry hours ago--certainly before sunset. With lights out, they might easily alter course, and let us run by them like a blind man past a notice to trespassers. What's more, we're right out of the beaten track. All up-Channel traffic will be heading for St. Catherine's light, and we're well to the south'ard of the Start by now.
"It's a cool bit of work, snapping up a ship almost in sight of Portsmouth, and in the English Channel, too," remarked Cardyke.
"Yes, and it's the audacity of it all that gives the beggars a chance of success. But what can be the object of a tramp lumbering along with a disabled cruiser in tow? She'll be spotted at sunrise, mark my words; but I'm afraid the _Frome_ won't have a look in. Well?"
The monosyllable was addressed to a seaman who had scaled the bridge-ladder.
"Message, sir; wireless," replied the man, laconically.
"H'm!" grumbled Fielding, taking the slip of paper. "The admiral wants to know our position, I suppose. That will mean a recall, and a wigging for not carrying out orders. I wish we'd crippled the wireless for a few hours. Take this, Cardyke, and see what it's all about."
The midshipman took the paper, and entered the little chart-room. The next instant he was by the sub.'s side.
"She's at it again," he exclaimed. "Here's an urgent call for assistance from ss. _Yosen Maru_, lat. 50-2-14 N., long. 3-45-9 W., steaming NNE.1/4E. Requires urgent assistance. Pursued and fired upon by large unknown vessel. How's that?"