



Produced by R.G.P.M. van Giesen




[Illustration: cover of "The Captain" volume XXV]




THE SEA MONARCH

By

Percy F. Westerman




  [Transcriber's note:

    Mr. Percy F. Westerman has written this story for:

    THE CAPTAIN
    A MAGAZINE FOR BOYS & "OLD BOYS".

    VOL. XXV
    _APRIL to SEPTEMBER, 1911_

    _London:_
    GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED, 3 to 12, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND.

    The magazine was a periodical that appeared monthly and was also
    sold in volumes of 6 months, in this case April to September
    of 1911. In the index of this volume the story appeared as
    follows:

    *SEA MONARCH, THE.* By Percy F. Westerman 40
                        98, 217, 311, 386, 482

    Each instalment, except the first, has a copyright-statement
    at the bottom of the first page:

    _Copyright_ 1911, _by George Newness, Ltd., in the United States
    of America._

  ]




         CONTENTS

    CHAP.
      I. THE MYSTERIOUS CASE OF THE "ZIETAN"
     II. INTRODUCES THE "PLAYMATE" AND HER SKIPPER
    III. RUN DOWN
     IV. A PRISONER ON THE MYSTERIOUS SHIP
      V. CAPTAIN BROOKES
     VI. THE CONNING-TOWER OF THE "OLIVE BRANCH"
    VII. RUMOURS OF WAR
   VIII. TREACHERY
     IX. AN ACT OF PIRACY
      X. CLEARED FOR ACTION
     XI. WIPED OUT
    XII. THROUGH THE MINE FIELD
   XIII. TRAPPED
    XIV. RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
     XV. A ONE-SIDED ENGAGEMENT
    XVI. IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE PATAGONIANS
   XVII. GERALD'S RUSE
  XVIII. THE CAPTAIN'S REVENGE
    XIX. GERALD'S PROMOTION
     XX. THE AIRMAN
    XXI. THE MISSING WIRELESS GEAR
   XXII. THE TOUCHSTONE OF PERIL
  XXIII. THE CRIPPLED SUBMARINE
   XXIV. A FRUSTRATED PLOT
    XXV. THE EMPIRE'S ORDEAL
   XXVI. THE VINDICATION OF THE "OLIVE BRANCH"




  ILLUSTRATIONS

  Crash! The huge vessel, looming out of the fog, struck the little
  yacht amidships. The stout planks were shorn through as if made of
  match-board, and the water poured in a cataract over the lee side.

  There was the sound of a hasty scuffling; then appeared the head
  and shoulders of the owner of the _Playmate_

  The mast snapped off close to the deck, and a block, hurtling
  through the air, struck Gerald a terrific blow over the head.

  Staggering to the door he threw it open. To his great surprise he
  saw a burly sentry standing without.

  In spite of his strenuous resistance they hauled the deserter out
  of the empty tank, and then unceremoniously bundled him into the
  gig.

  "Look here, Mr. Schneider, you've come to the wrong box with your
  sneaking complaints. So clear out!"

  Bending over the instrument was a young officer, his head
  practically covered with a metal cap fitted with receivers.

  The man staggered, clapped his hand to his shoulder, and fell to
  the deck, the weapon slipping from his grasp.

  Schneider cleared the rail, and leapt into the sea.

  The doomed vessel was instantly swept out of existence. The massive
  outlines of the cruiser seemed to melt into a hundred thousand
  fragments.

  As night fell the searchlights played with unceasing vigilance upon
  the harbour. Suddenly Captain Brookes turned to Gerald. "Does my
  compact forbid me using the Z-rays?" he asked.

  A party of natives appeared on the beach regarding the cruiser with
  obvious amazement. In their hands they carried long slender spears,
  which they brandished menacingly.

  Like a terrier let loose amidst a swarm of rats the submarine
  dashed towards the canoes.

  A terrific detonation shook the ground, and a thick cloud of smoke
  obscured the view of the pinnacle. In an agony of fear the natives
  threw themselves face downwards in the dust.

  Seated up to his waist in water was the aviator, clad in an
  inflated rubber suit. The engine was lost to view, the tips of the
  twin propellers just projected above the surface.

  "Good shot!" yelled several of the officers on the _Olive Branch_.
  For a full ten seconds the monoplane held on its course, then,
  lurching like a wounded bird, it swooped swiftly downwards.

  The searchlight revealed a huge circular turret with a pair of
  monster guns. Slowly the submarine swung round, the light
  travelling the length of the huge mass of weed-encrusted iron
  and steel.

  The four men threw themselves on the astonished foreigners, and
  a desperate conflict ensued.

  "In view of possible events I must ask you to take up your quarters
  beneath the armoured deck," said Captain Brookes.

  An admiral's pinnace was approaching the shattered _Olive Branch_.
  Gerald hastened on deck to receive the distinguished officer.




[Illustration: Crash! The huge vessel, looming out of the fog, struck
the little yacht amidships. The stout planks were shorn through as if
made of match-board, and the water poured in a cataract over the lee
side. (_See page_ 52)]




THE SEA MONARCH

BY PERCY F. WESTERMAN

Author of: "A Lad of Grit," "The Quest of the Golden Hope," etc.,
etc.

_ILLUSTRATED BY E. S. HODGSON_




[Illustration: chapter I]
CHAPTER I

THE MYSTERIOUS CASE OF THE "ZIETAN"


IT was a scorching afternoon in the month of August. The slanting
rays of the sun beat powerfully upon the tranquil waters of
Portsmouth Harbour, while the white ensigns of the numerous warships
fluttered idly in the almost motionless air.

Swinging easily at her moorings to the first of the young flood lay
the torpedo-boat destroyer _Calder_, presenting a very different
appearance from its trim state of a few days before. Engine-room
defects had occasioned her return to harbour, and as these were of a
somewhat serious nature, the opportunity was taken to place the
destroyer into dockyard hands for at least two months. The
commissioned officers had obtained permission to go on leave, while
the _Calder_, in the charge of a gunner, was to be put into dock the
following day.

_Ting-ting! Ting-ting! Ting-ting! Ting-ting!_ Eight bells had hardly
sounded ere two men appeared on deck, scrambling agilely through the
small hatchway that did duty for the ward-room companion. The first
was the tall, lean-featured lieutenant-commander. The other,
Sub-Lieutenant Gerald Tregarthen, needs a slightly longer
introduction.

He was almost the same height as the commander, or a fraction under
5ft. 11 ins. in his socks, and was broad in proportion. His features,
tanned by constant exposure to sun, wind, and spray, were clear-cut,
almost boyish in expression, while at times there was a roguish light
in his deep blue eyes.

Yet beneath the apparently boyish exterior lurked the spirit of a
man. When occasion arose those merry lips would compress themselves
into a thin, straight line, the powerful chin would be thrust
aggressively forward, and a dangerous glint in his eyes would betoken
that resolution, coolness, and daring which are the indispensable
characteristics of a successful naval officer.

His service career, in spite of its comparative shortness, had been
one continued success, yet success had not been gained without sheer
hard work. With a "first" in gunnery, torpedo, and navigation, he
found himself at an early age well up on the list for promotion.

Gerald Tregarthen was in mufti; but his well-cut civilian clothes
could not conceal the erect bearing and breezy alertness that
characterised the British naval officer. Taking advantage of the
_Calder's_ temporary idleness, he had applied and obtained permission
for six weeks' leave, and, strange as it may appear, his intention
was to spend the best part of that time afloat.

There is a story told of a London 'bus-driver who devoted a rare
holiday to playing the role of passenger on his own vehicle. Similar
motives doubtless prompt hundreds of bluejackets and marines to hire
private skiffs during their leave. One has but to go to Southsea
beach, the shores of the Hamoaze, or the mouth of the Medway to see
jolly tars and jovial "joeys" rowing in shore-boats as if that form
of recreation was the greatest treat imaginable. It is, then, not so
much to be wondered at that Gerald Tregarthen elected to spend most
of his leave on board the 4-ton cutter _Playmate_, at that moment
lying in Poole Harbour, the yacht being owned by his old school-chum,
Jack Stockton.

The appearance of the two officers on deck was immediately followed
by the hoarse orders of the quarter-master. The boat's crew manned
the falls, and the little craft was brought alongside the destroyer's
starboard quarter. Tregarthen's luggage, consisting only of a
well-filled portmanteau, was handed over the side, and, having bade
his senior officer goodbye, the sub-lieutenant took his place in the
stern-sheets. A quarter of an hour later Gerald Tregarthen landed at
the King's Stairs, and, followed by a seaman bearing his portmanteau,
walked rapidly through the dockyard to the main gate. Here a
lynx-eyed driver; spotting a likely fare, ran his taxi close up to
the spot where the young sub. was standing.

"Town station for all you're worth," exclaimed Tregarthen, but ere he
could enter the taxi a boy rushed up to him.

"Evening paper, sir? All the latest naval appointments."

This is a bait that rarely fails to draw the naval man. Taking the
paper Tregarthen boarded the vehicle, and was soon bowling along
towards the railway station.

Two unavoidable delays were sufficient to alter Tregarthen's
arrangements, for on arriving at the town station he found that he
had missed the 4.45 Bournemouth train by a bare two minutes. Little
did he imagine that the loss of those two minutes was fated to effect
a tremendous change in his career at no distant date.

"Next train 6.2, sir," replied a porter in answer to the sub.'s
anxious inquiry.

"Just my luck. Over an hour to wait," soliloquised the disappointed
sub., and sitting down and placing his portmanteau by his side, he
unfolded the sheets of the newspaper.

The "Naval Appointments" he read with more than ordinary interest,
inwardly commenting on the good luck or otherwise of those of the
numerous officers he knew personally. Then the "Movements of H.M.
Ships" attracted his attention. Lower down in the columns was a
paragraph that, though he paid scant heed to it at the time, was to
vitally affect him within the next few days:--

  The new ironclad _Almirante Constant_ left the Tyne yesterday. A
  persistent rumour is being circulated in certain quarters that the
  vessel, which has been built with the utmost secrecy, is not, after
  all, to become a unit of the Brazilian navy. Our correspondent has
  made careful and exhaustive inquiries on this point, but the
  officials concerned maintain a strict reticence. One thing is
  certain, however--she is not at present armed, the contract for her
  ordnance being placed, we understand; with an American firm.

"Blest if I can understand why these South American republics want
such up-to-date ships," mused the sub. as he turned over the
refractory pages. "It's like giving a child a razor to play with.
Well, I suppose it means work for the North Country shipyards; but
should any European power lay its hands on half a dozen of them I'm
afraid our naval supremacy will have but a very small margin. Hallo!
What's this?"

  A telegram from Wilhelmshaven, dated the 11th inst., states that
  the Imperial third class cruiser _Zietan_ has arrived here
  apparently in difficulties, in charge of two tugs. Captain Schloss
  immediately landed and despatched a lengthy report to the German
  Admiralty, but, as shore leave is refused, our correspondent is
  unable to obtain details of the accident from any of the officers
  or crew. We have reason to believe that a serious