Crouch flew to the "telegraph" which communicated with the engine-room below, and shouted his orders for "full steam ahead." He then put the helm hard a-port, and did so only in the nick of time; for the white streak of a torpedo flashed through the water, missing the steamer's rudder by five yards at the most.
There was a kind of fog upon the sea, the surface of which--though by no means calm--was a great deal less troubled than it had been on the evening of the previous day. Captain Crouch recognized at once that their only chance of safety lay in flight. Moreover, two things were necessary: firstly, never to present a broadside to the submarine, which would thereby be offered a suitable target for a Krupp torpedo; secondly, to follow--as far as was possible--a zigzag course, so that a torpedo, if discharged, would probably miss its mark.
There followed, during the early hours of that bleak, sunless morning, a stern chase--a matter of life and death. The "Mondavia" soon proved herself capable of holding her own. Both wind and tide were against the submarine, which also--by reason of the fact that she carried the crew of the "Marigold" over and above her normal complement--was overloaded. The tramp, which was under full steam, had been dry-docked that very autumn; and on this occasion she excelled herself, surpassing all that her builders had ever dreamed of in the way of speed.
None the less, never for a single instant were those on board the steamer out of danger. The forward gun of the U93 spat fire like a cornered cat, raining in quick succession a perfect hurricane of shells upon the unprotected decks. Crouch behaved as he had done on board the "Harlech" when that ship had been under fire from the "Dresden's" guns. He stood steadfast at his post, with Jimmy Burke at his side, giving his orders to the engine-room and to the quartermaster at the wheel, encouraging, both by his example and his words, those whose duty it was to remain upon the deck.
Once, when he looked back, he saw that the submarine had dropped far behind.
"We'll escape, my boy!" he cried. "We'll slip away by the very skin of our teeth."
"What's that?" cried Jimmy, whose eyes had been fixed ahead.
Captain Crouch at once brought his telescope to his only eye. And there, sure enough, immediately in front of them, standing out in a line like a great row of forts, right across the horizon, were the great battle-cruisers of the German Navy which had come from Kiel, that the white cliffs and green fields of England might echo with the thunder of their guns.
[CHAPTER XXV--Væ Victis]
To anyone who has the slightest knowledge of the fighting ships of the world, the identification of the German Dreadnought cruisers is a comparatively easy matter. The ships which took part in the third German raid, which left Kiel on the night of January 23, have certain characteristics of their own which no one can mistake.