Captain Pardoe stood on the bridge before entering the conning-tower, his glass to his eyes, and his feet braced apart. Then he turned and waved his hand to the Irene, bringing it to his mouth in a trumpet.
“Steam away at full speed, and make for Cape Verde. Good-bye.”
Another cheer, strangely hoarse, broke from the Irene, and was responded to by the men on the catcher, and a moment later the four-inch gun opened fire with a roar. The smaller guns spoke, and the whole five of them flashed out shot after shot, making such a volume of smoke that the low ship was at once completely hidden from those on the Irene.
“My God,” murmured Webster, “why did I not stay with him?”
“Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain,” said Hume, touching Webster on the shoulder. “He will be happier if he knows we can escape.”
“It is terrible, Frank; I cannot give the order. Do so yourself.”
Hume sadly went to the bridge and gave the order for full speed ahead, but the Irene had not gone a mile when, as though by common consent, the steamer slowed down, and everyone on board, even to the stokers, crowded on to the stern poop to watch the unequal battle, letting the steamer drift as she liked.
The cruiser had made not the slightest attempt to stop the Irene, for the storm of shot bursting in a sudden upon her, when she was in the full security of conscious strength, had plunged her into a state of wild confusion. At the first smash and yell of the missiles along her sides and through her tall rigging, there had been a wild rush from her decks as the terrified crew sought shelter from the mysterious enemy, and their panic was increased by the fierce bombardment which the catcher poured in from her five quick-firing guns at the rate of thirty shots a minute. They saw approaching a revolving cloud of smoke, out of which there flashed flames of fire, and the cruiser fairly turned and fled, pouring in a scattering broadside which went wide of the mark.
When the Irene slowed down, the cruiser, about two miles distant, was steaming on a south-west course, and the Swift was turning under cover of her smoke, which hung low on the water. The men on the derelict raised cheer on cheer in a state of great exultation.
“It is magnificent,” said Miss Anstrade, with shining eyes. “Why don’t you cheer, Mr Webster?” and she gave out a ringing cry.