Lord Hastings returned to his place on deck.
Nearer and still nearer the Sylph crept toward her foe; and now the speed was reduced to fifteen knots.
“Another ten minutes and we shall be near enough to strike,” declared Lord Hastings to the group of officers about him. He turned to Jack and Frank. “Take your posts,” he said, “and keep me informed if we are struck and what damage is done by the enemy’s fire.”
Frank and Jack descended to the lower deck—now converted into the gun deck. Both lads were trembling with eagerness and excitement.
“How do you feel, Jack,” asked Frank, “scared?”
“No, not exactly,” was the reply. “I feel rather funny, though.”
“Same here,” said Frank, “but I guess we’ll get over that as soon as things break loose.”
“Yes; and they’re about due to break,” declared Jack.
Members of the gun crews joked each other good-naturedly, as they waited for the command to fire.
And still there was a death-like silence on the Sylph.