and
the two vessels drew close to each other. A partly defaced name, which
was rendered indecipherable by the splash of the seas as they struck the
counter, could be distinguished with the aid of binoculars in the
quickening light of early morning, but neither officers nor crew could
be seen, the bridge and decks appearing deserted.

Not to be misled by this ruse, however--for on similar occasions ships
had been blown to pieces at close range by concealed batteries--the
_Curlew_ approached cautiously, bows-on, offering the smallest possible
target, and with her guns trained on the quarry. This sea-stalking is
nervy work and must be played slowly. Twice the trawler circled round
the mysterious ship, and the sun had mounted high, penetrating the banks
of cloud which scudded across the summer sky and tingeing the still
boisterous sea with flecks of golden light, before it was considered
safe to relax all precautions. Even then the sea prevented any attempt
being made to board the curious craft, and for six hours the trawler
clung to the heels of her quarry, which was rapidly drifting far out
into the North Sea.

The danger of attack from hostile submarines was great, and the gunners
stood by their weapons although drenched every few seconds by the floods
of heavy spray which still poured over the bows. At last patience and
endurance were rewarded. The sea calmed sufficiently to enable a boat to
be lowered and with difficulty brought up under the lee of the
mysterious ship.

An armed guard, headed by the sub-lieutenant, eagerly scrambled up the
lofty rolling sides. They had scarcely reached the deck before their
only means of retreat was cut off. The two men left in the life-boat
were unable to keep her off the iron sides of the big ship. She rose
like a cork on the crest of a wave until almost level with the top line
of port-holes and then dropped back, catching the edges of the
rolling-stocks. There was a crash of splintering wood and the next
minute two half-drowned men were being hauled up the sides by their
comrades on deck.

It was an anxious moment, for although the decks seemed deserted there
was that curious, uncanny feeling which is ever present when facing an
unknown peril. After all it _might_ prove to be a _ruse de guerre_ or
some new form of frightfulness. There were only six men from the
trawler--a small enough party, however well armed, if it came to a
fight--and great caution was observed while explor