"With luck we might touch thirty-eight," was the unconcerned reply. "It isn't very often we do that--it's not necessary when we're Fritz-hunting--but when the Hun does come out with his light cruisers and torpedo boats, then we just show a clean pair of heels before they as much as sight us. Once they get an inkling that a British Q-boat is out disguised as a U-boat, then we may just as well pay off and save the taxpayers." "But if their aircraft spotted you?" asked Meredith. "Your speed wouldn't help you much then." "I agree," said Morpeth. "Aircraft are, in my opinion, unmitigated nuisances--that is, as far as we are concerned on this little stunt. When I see any of our blimps or flying-boats I get the wind up, because they naturally take us for a U-boat; and unless we're pretty smart at making our distinguishing signs, and they are equally smart at reading the same, they proceed with the utmost relish to strafe us. When I meet the Air Force fellows ashore I chip 'em and say it's because they're jealous." "And when you spot a Hun 'plane?" inquired Wakefield. "That's quite a different story. Just step aft a minute." Morpeth led the way abaft the engine-room hatchway. On the centre line of the narrow deck was a metal flap about eighteen inches square. "Our anti-aircraft gun is below there," observed the R.N.R. officer. "No, we don't lug it on deck. It's fired from below. Now, when a Hun spots us and we can't make ourselves scarce, we stop our engines and display a signal as per Imperial German Navy Code Book, a copy of which was issued to me by the British Admiralty." "I know the thing," remarked Wakefield. "Down swoops inquisitive Fritz," continued Morpeth, "and then we have him cold." Wakefield stifled another yawn. "'Scuse me," he murmured apologetically, "but it's not because I'm not interested. I am, really; but Nature is reminding me that I've had no sleep for the last twenty-four hours." "By Jove! Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Morpeth, in genuine concern. "Turn in, both of you, at once; and if you're out before the sun's over the fore-yard there'll be trouble." "Right-o, on one condition," rejoined Wakefield. The R.N.R. lieutenant-commander smiled grimly. "I don't have fellows making conditions with the skipper of this hooker as a general rule," he remarked. "But what is it?" "That we are called if there's any little stunt on," continued Wakefield. "That's a deal," agreed Morpeth. "Good-night." CHAPTER VIII VON PREUSSEN'S BLANK DAY "WHAT a ghastly welcome!" soliloquised Leutnant Karl von Preussen, as he approached the "prohibited area" of Auldhaig. For the present his assumed name was Captain George Fennelburt, R.A.F., and in adopting the name and character he had left very little to chance. His pocket-book bulged with spurious official documents, printed in Germany, and replicas of papers that had either been surreptitiously obtained from British air stations, or had been found on captured men.