Affair off Kiel

Clad in their oilskins over their greatcoats, the two midshipmen
accompanied Barry to the bridge. The A. P., on second thoughts,
decided to remain below. He had a rooted objection to getting his
glasses smothered in spray if it could be avoided.

Steam had been raised a week ago, when the _Hunbilker_ left Newcastle
for Cromarty, so there was no delay on that account. Already the steam
capstan was clanking dolorously as fathom after fathom of chain crept
with seeming reluctance through the hawse-pipe.

It was a night. Towering seas, sweeping in from the exposed Moray
Firth, surged madly into the more sheltered inlet where the dummy
battleship strained at her cable. The air was thick with sleet.
Overhead, black clouds scudded rapidly across the moon.

Even though the ship was partly under the lee of the projecting ground,
the midshipmen knew that it would be hopeless to attempt to lower a
boat. For good or ill they were bound to remain on board.

"Suppose it's all right," remarked Ross. "We may get a chance of doing
something, far more so than if we were on board the _Capella_, now this
submarine blockade fiasco is finished. At any rate it's not our fault
we're here."

"But our good fortune," added Vernon. "Evidently there's a big affair
coming off, though I can't quite see what this vessel's going to do in
it."

For fifteen hours of darkness the _Hunbilker_ plodded steadily onwards.
No lights were shown, yet it was a known fact that at least thirty
vessels of various types were converging upon the rendezvous.

Captain Barry never once quitted the bridge. Although his lofty post
was constantly deluged by clouds of icy spray, and the weather side of
the bridge-rail canvas was inches deep in sleet, he braved the elements
through watch and watch, snatching a hasty meal of cocoa (which was
cold by the time it reached him) and biscuits under the lee of the
chart-house.

Day dawned at last. Ross and Vernon, who had gone below to snatch a
few hours' sleep, came on deck to find the _Hunbilker_ at the
rendezvous. She lay in the midst of a fleet. There were the great
battle-cruisers, Dreadnoughts and their replicas, light cruisers, and a
galaxy of torpedo-boats--the latter swept from stem to stern by the
waves.

Without any appreciable weakening of the Grand Fleet, this maritime
force had been assembled for particular service--presumably in the
Baltic, although no orders to that effect ha