“Looks happy, doesn’t he?” said the captain once. I grunted that he did, ashamed to find how irritated the remark made me.
“You’ll remember what I said,” he added in my ear.
“Yes,” I said. “But I should like to see her. What _is_ she like?”
The hull of the _Blitz_ loomed up, and a minute later our kedge was splashing overboard and the launch was backing alongside.
“Good-night, gentlemen,” said our passenger. “You’re safe enough here, and you can run across in ten minutes in the morning and pick up your anchor, if it’s there still. Then you’ve a fair wind west—to England if you like. If you decide to stay a little longer in these parts, and I’m in reach, count on me to help you, to sport or anything else.”
We thanked him, shook hands, and he was gone.
“He’s a thundering good chap, anyhow,” said Davies; and I heartily agreed.
The narrow vigilant life began again at once. We were “safe enough” in a sense, but a warp and a twenty-pound anchor were poor security if the wind backed or increased. Plans for contingencies had to be made, and deck-watches kept till midnight, when the weather seemed to improve, and stars appeared. The glass was rising, so we turned in and slept under the very wing, so to speak, of the Imperial Government.
“Davies,” I said, when we were settled in our bunks, “it’s only a day’s sail to Norderney, isn’t it?”
“With a fair wind, less, if we go outside the islands direct.”
“Well, it’s settled that we do that to-morrow?”
“I suppose so. We’ve got to get the anchor first. Good-night.”
It was a cold, vaporous dawn, the glass rising, and the wind fallen to a light air still from the north-east. Our creased and sodden sails scarcely answered to it as we crept across the oily swell to Langeoog. “Fogs and calms,” Davies prophesied. The _Blitz_ was astir when we passed her, and soon after steamed out to sea. Once over the bar, she turned westward and was lost to view in the haze. I should be sorry to have to explain how we found that tiny anchor-buoy, on the expressionless waste of grey. I only know that I hove the lead incessantly while Davies conned, till at last he was grabbing overside with the boathook, and there was the buoy on deck. The cable was soon following it, and finally the rusty monster himself, more loathsome than usual, after his long sojourn in the slime.