'I wants th' orficer o' th' watch,' he heard an agitated voice telling the quartermaster. 'Where is 'e?'
'Here I am. What's the matter? Who's that?'
'It's me, sir—Grimes, ord'nary signalman,' the man panted breathlessly. 'Please, sir, th' yeoman o' th' watch on th' bridge told me to tell you there's a Zeppeling comin' over th' 'ill!'
'A Zeppelin coming over the hill!' the officer echoed, in astonishment, half-suspecting that some one was pulling his leg. 'What the devil d'you mean, my man?'
'It's gawspul truth, sir. 'E's burnin' lights, an' me an' th' yeoman saw 'im quite plain.'
Grimes was obviously in earnest, and the lieutenant did not wait to hear any more. He crammed his cap firmly on his head, darted from the quarterdeck, ran up the ladder leading to the after shelter-deck, sped along the boat-deck, barking both shins badly as he went, and finally clambered up the ladder leading to the fore-bridge, breathless and limp with excitement. 'Where is it?' he gasped.
'Over there on the port bow, sir!' answered an equally agitated yeoman of signals, busy with a pair of binoculars. 'D'ye see where that 'ump sticks up on top o' the 'ill, sir?'
'Yes!'
'There's a bit o' dark cloud on top of it, and just to the left, sir. 'E's be'ind that now. We'll see 'im agen in a minute w'en the cloud passes.'
They both gazed at it anxiously, and presently the mass of vapour thinned and drifted away on the light breeze.