Part 9 (1/2)

His companion looked at him in astonishment.

”I mean it,” continued the sub. ”We won't be in action again for quite ten minutes, unless those Huns take it into their heads to alter course--which I don't fancy will be at all likely.”

He pointed to five faint objects scurrying farther away through the patches of haze. They were German light cruisers, which, having had a taste of the salvoes of the leading s.h.i.+ps of the First Cruiser Squadron, had thought it prudent to sheer off.

”Then look slippy, old bird,” said the other. ”I'm rather keen on getting the thing; I'd go myself if I were not here on duty with a capital D. I'll pa.s.s the word for the covers to be left open for your return.”

Gaining the shrouds, Sefton descended cautiously, for already fragments of exploding sh.e.l.ls had cut through several of the wire strands, and had played havoc with the ratlines.

Gaining the fore-bridge, he descended the ladder to the superstructure, and, pa.s.sing in the wake of the trained-abeam turrets, reached the only hatchway leading to the main deck that had not been closed with an armoured lid.

'Tween decks the air was hot and oppressive. The confined s.p.a.ce reeked with cordite fumes. Through the brown haze a streak of yellow light played upon the deck--a beam of sunlight entering through a jagged sh.e.l.l-hole in the s.h.i.+p's side.

Farther along, a party of sick-bay men were lowering a stretcher through a hatchway. On the stretcher was strapped a wounded petty officer, one of whose legs had been shattered below the knee.

The man was struggling violently, and expostulating in no mild terms.

Ignorant of his terrible injuries, he was insisting on being allowed to return to his station and ”have another smack at the Huns”.

”Can't go no farther this way, sir,” announced a marine, recognizing the sub, and knowing that he was new to the s.h.i.+p. ”Bulkhead doors are shut.

There's a way round past the issue-room, sir, down this 'ere ladder.”

The ”issue-room” was open. An electric lamp illuminated the irregular-shaped s.p.a.ce, which on one side was bounded by the convex base of the after turret, a 6-inch wall of hard steel.

Sefton could hear voices raised in loud and vehement argument: two a.s.sistant s.h.i.+p's stewards were discussing the respective merits of music-hall favourites.

A third voice joined in the discussion--that of one of the s.h.i.+p's boys.

”'Taint neither the one or t'other,” he began. ”I was a-saying----”

”Then don't say it, but get on with your job,” interrupted the first speaker. ”Those casks look a regular disgrace. You haven't polished the bra.s.swork for more'n three days, and it's captain's rounds to-morrow.”

The next instant came a regular avalanche of flour-sacks, casks, copper measures, and other paraphernalia pertaining to the s.h.i.+p's steward's department. Across the raised coaming of the doorway tripped the three occupants of the issue-room, landing in a struggling, confused heap at Sefton's feet.

From a distance of nearly nine miles an 11-inch sh.e.l.l had hit the _Warrior_ abreast of the after turret. It was some little time before it was realized that the damage was slight.

The first to pick himself up was the s.h.i.+p's steward's boy.

”Guess you don't want me to carry on with that there polis.h.i.+ng job,” he remarked nonchalantly, as he heaved the winded petty officer to his feet and indicated the debris of the bra.s.s-bound casks.

Sefton lost no time in fetching the camera from the gun-room. Slinging it round his neck, he gained the upper deck, and began his ascent to the fire-control platform.

”Thanks,” said his companion, as the sub handed the precious apparatus to him. ”You're only just in time. Those light cruisers have altered helm 16 points. Looks fishy, by Jove! They've something behind them to back them up.”

It was now nearly six o'clock. Already the _Defence_ was hurling sh.e.l.ls at the leading German light cruiser at 14,000 yards, the range momentarily decreasing as the two squadrons closed.

The Huns were certainly not devoid of pluck, although, as Sefton's chum had remarked, they evidently had some card up their sleeves.

For the next fifteen minutes the _Warrior_ and her consorts were at it ”hammer and tongs”, directing a furious fire into the head of the approaching column. One of the hostile cruisers, hit by a double salvo from the _Warrior_ and the _Defence_, capsized and sank. Another, burning fiercely in three different places, hauled out of line.