“Ah, now, bend the flag on.”
Webster took another look at the Captain, then bent the Union Jack reversed to the peak.
They looked at the cruiser, and she at once signalled the torpedo boats, which simultaneously turned almost in their own lengths, and one on each bow, steamed a quarter of a mile in advance.
The cruiser came on hand over hand, and Captain Pardee’s glance turned repeatedly from her to the grey belt ahead.
He touched the bell, and the catcher responded with slightly increased speed, which soon brought her within hail of the torpedo boats.
An officer on the port boat, clad from head to foot in oils, all glistening with wet, leant over the bridge, and through his hollowed hands called, “Slacken speed, sir!”
“All right; what’s the fuss about?”
“Slacken speed!”
“So I am.”
There came a hail from the starboard boat.