Part 13 (1/2)

”We've had it pretty hot!” he soliloquized. ”Wonder we're still afloat.

Well, now for it once more.”

He leant over the after side of the bridge. A dark figure was moving for'ard ten feet beneath him.

”Pa.s.s the word to the L.T.O.,” ordered the sub, ”to report the number of torpedoes remaining.”

”Aye, aye, sir,” replied the man, and, retracing his steps, he hurried aft to where the leading torpedo-man was standing at the tubes.

Back came the messenger, lurching as he loomed through the darkness.

”The man hasn't found his sea-legs yet,” thought Sefton; then aloud he asked: ”Well?”

”None left, sir,” replied the seaman, and, having delivered his message, he pitched upon his face.

Sefton had to let him lie there. The sub could not leave the bridge.

Even Crosthwaite had to be left alone until the destroyer was out of action.

It would have been a futile task to attempt to take the _Calder_ back between the enemy lines. With no other offensive weapons than her comparatively light 4-inch quick-firers, she would be unable to do any serious damage to the huge armoured s.h.i.+ps, while at the same time she would be exposed to an overwhelming fire as she pa.s.sed abeam of the German battles.h.i.+ps and light cruisers.

So into the darkness, beyond the glare of the search-lights, Sefton took the destroyer, with the intention of making a wide sweep and rejoining the British fleet. Of how the _Calder's_ consorts were faring he knew nothing, except that the action was being briskly maintained.

Occasionally the foggy night would be rent by a vivid red glare that outcla.s.sed the almost continuous flashes of the guns, which illuminated the low-lying clouds like incessant summer lightning. The roar of the ordnance was simply indescribable. It seemed impossible that a man could go through it without having his ear-drums burst by the terrific air-beats of the appalling detonations.

A dark shape loomed through the darkness almost athwart the _Calder's_ track. Only a quick movement of the helm avoided collision with the floating object, which, as the _Calder_ swept by, revealed itself as a large destroyer.

On deck she was little better than a wreck. Bridge, conning-tower, funnels, masts, and boats had vanished utterly. Her guns, wrenched from their mountings, pointed upwards at grotesque angles through their shattered s.h.i.+elds. Where the torpedo-tubes had been was a jagged hole still spanned by one arc of the gun-metal racer. This much was visible in the reflected glare of the distant search-lights as the _Calder_ swept by with her guns trained abeam should the vessel still be capable of offence.

A score of men, mostly engine-room ratings, were gathered amids.h.i.+ps on the shattered deck of the crippled vessel. They had desisted from the work on which they were engaged, and were gazing mutely at the destroyer that might be instrumental in giving them the _coup de grace_.

”What s.h.i.+p is that?” roared Sefton through a megaphone, the intervening distance being less than twenty yards.

”His Majesty's destroyer _Yealm_,” was the reply, flung proudly through the darkness.

Thrusting both levers of the engine-room telegraph to ”Full Speed Astern” and afterwards to ”Stop”, the sub brought the _Calder_ to a standstill within easy hailing distance of her disabled consort. Here was a case in which a.s.sistance could be rendered without detriment to the interests of the Service. The _Calder_, until she could replenish her store of torpedoes, was practically useless as a fighting unit.

With her engines undamaged she could tow the _Yealm_ into comparative safety, provided she was not intercepted by a straggling hostile s.h.i.+p.

”Stand by to receive a hawser!” continued Sefton. ”We'll give you a pluck out of this.”

”No; thanks all the same, sir,” shouted a deep voice. ”We're sound below the water-line, and we can get under way again in a few minutes.

We'll take our chances of getting out of it. We gave the swine an almighty punching before they swept our decks. Carry on, sir, and give them another half a dozen for us.”

It was the _Yealm's_ torpedo gunner who spoke, the only surviving executive officer of the gallant destroyer.

”Can you spare us any torpedoes?” shouted Sefton, an inspiration flas.h.i.+ng across his mind.

”Aye, aye, sir,” was the reply. ”Four.”

”Very good; we'll come alongside,” rejoined the sub, who thereupon ordered two wire ”springs” to be made ready, so as to establish communication between the two destroyers.