The light crept over the dark river in a broad track of gleaming silver, came slowly nearer, then, in a blinding flash, shone over the vessel, lighting up every man as he stood at his post, and bringing out the girl’s face in a startling pallor.
The bell sounded its sharp order, the engines answered quicker and quicker, and the long, narrow ship seemed to leap forward, sending up a shower of water, which sparkled in the light, and came aft like rain. On she rushed—the flames springing from her funnels—the whole frame and body of her vibrating, and the water hissing and splashing before her bows and in her wake.
A ball of white smoke, which for a moment dimmed the flaming light, belched from the warship, followed at fully half a minute by the sullen boom.
“That’s by way of formal notice,” said the Captain; “by-and-by she’ll send a sharper summons; better go below, Miss Laura.”
“I will stay here,” she answered quietly.
The small ship was now abreast of the man-of-war, which had changed its course and was steaming slowly ahead. On the left were the lights of Southend, far ahead the revolving lights of the Nore lightship, and on the port bows was the black hull and green and red lights of a huge steamer.
“That’s a stroke of luck,” said the Captain. “We’ll get on the blind side of that ship, and that bulldog daren’t show his teeth until we’re well clear both of Southend and the steamer.”
The man-of-war fired another blank charge, but the long, low vessel darted along, shifting her course until she came under the bows of the big ocean steamer.
The search-light, however, soon picked her up beyond, and a minute after there was another report, followed this time by the shrill scream of a shell, than which there are few sounds more threatening. The shot flew high, plunging with a splash far on the port side.
“They cannot hit us, Captain Pardoe, and we are rapidly leaving them.”