Part 12 (2/2)

A feeble light, screened in all directions save that towards the vessels astern, blinked rapidly from the leading destroyer. It was the signal for the flotilla to form in line abeam.

”Starboard ten!” ordered Crosthwaite.

”Starboard ten, sir!” was the helmsman's reply, while the lieutenant-commander telegraphed for speed to be increased to 22 knots in order to bring the _Calder_ even with the leader.

Had it been daylight the manoeuvre would have been executed with the precision of a machine; being night it was impossible to follow the movements of the whole flotilla, but carried out the orders were, each destroyer keeping station with the one nearest on her starboard beam.

Suddenly the darkness was penetrated by the dazzling beam of a search-light from a s.h.i.+p at a distance of two miles on the _Calder's_ port bow. For a moment it hung irresolute, and then swung round in the direction of the on-coming destroyers.

A huge black ma.s.s intercepted the rays, its outlines silhouetted against the silvery glare. The ma.s.s was a German light cruiser, evidently detached for scouting purposes and returning with screened lights towards the main fleet.

Instantly a furious cannonade was opened upon the luckless light cruiser from half a dozen of her consorts. For a couple of minutes the firing continued, until, with a tremendous flash and a deafening roar, her magazine exploded.

”The Huns will never admit their mistake,” thought Sefton. ”They'll claim to have destroyed another of our s.h.i.+ps.”

Then the sub's whole attention was chained to the work now on hand.

Barely had the last of the flying debris from the German light cruiser struck the water when at full speed the British destroyer flotilla hurled itself upon the foe.

Played upon by fifty search-lights, the target for a hundred guns, large and small, the destroyers held on with one set purpose, their torpedo-men discharging the 21-inch missiles with rapidity and cool determination.

Above the crash of the ordnance could be heard the deeper boom of the torpedoes as they exploded against the s.h.i.+ps' bottoms at a depth of fifteen or twenty feet below the surface.

Slick in between two large battles.h.i.+ps the _Calder_ rushed, letting loose a pair of torpedoes at each of the hostile s.h.i.+ps. One torpedo was observed to explode close to the stern of the battles.h.i.+p to starboard, the stricken vessel leaving the line with a decided list and enveloped in smoke.

”Light cruisers, by Jove!” muttered Sefton, as the _Calder_, on nearing the end of the enemy line, was confronted by three vessels of the ”Wiesbaden” cla.s.s.

A heavy fire greeted the approaching destroyer, but almost without exception the sh.e.l.ls went wide of their mark. Then, gathering speed, one of the German light cruisers ported helm and attempted to ram her lightly-built opponent.

Making no effort to avoid the danger, the _Calder_ held on, until Sefton, turning to see what his commanding officer was doing, found Crosthwaite sitting on the bridge with his back against the pedestal of the semaph.o.r.e, and his hands clasping his right leg just above the knee, and blood oozing from a gash in his forehead.

The sub was the only officer on the bridge capable of taking command.

”Hard-a-starboard!” he shouted, in order to make himself heard above the din.

Ever quick on her helm, the destroyer spun round almost on her heel.

The German's stem missed her by a couple of feet, while, hurled bodily sideways by the ma.s.s of water from the former's bow wave, the _Calder_ slid past with her side-plating almost touching that of her enemy.

Simultaneously the Hun let fly a broadside. The destroyer reeled under the shock, but once again she was in luck, for none of the hostile guns could be sufficiently depressed to score a vital hit. The next instant the cruiser was lost to sight in the darkness, saluted by a number of rounds from the destroyer's after 4-inch gun.

Temporarily stunned by the detonations of the German cruiser's guns--for he was within twenty feet of the muzzles of several of the weapons--Sefton leaned against the conning-tower. The metal was unpleasantly hot, for a light sh.e.l.l had burst against it hardly a minute before. Beyond denting the steel armour and blowing the signal-locker over the side, the missile had done no further damage.

Coughing the acrid fumes from his lungs and clearing his eyes of involuntary tears, for the air was thick with irritating dust, Sefton began to take a renewed interest in his surroundings.

The _Calder_ had penetrated the hostile line without sustaining serious damage. She had now to return.

The sub grasped one of the voice-tubes. The flexible pipe came away in his hand, the whole system having been cut through with a fragment of sh.e.l.l.

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