'S'long, Shiner! 'Appy dreams.'
Pincher, left to his own devices, looked about him. The squadron was at sea, and to his unpractised eye the night seemed unusually fine. What little wind there was seemed to be coming in from the south-westward in fitful, erratic puffs, and the great ship rode over a smooth, gradually increasing swell without perceptible movement. If he had been a weather prophet the state of the sea and the sky would have warned him to expect a change in the weather; but he was a novice at such things, and the signs and portents of sky and sea conveyed little to his mind.
The moon was up, and the night was not really dark as nights go; but every now and then the brilliance of the moon was temporarily dimmed by great high cloud-masses travelling down from windward across the face of the blue, star-spangled heavens. Away to the south-westward a heavy piled-up bank of dark hue, looking for all the world like a gigantic mountain range overtopping the horizon, was gradually encroaching on the sky as it mounted up and up into space. Its upper edges were frayed and fretted by the wind, and occasional wisps of cloud torn from the main mass were being flung off into space by the upper air-currents, to come scurrying to leeward in low-lying, streaky fragments like spun silk. They were mares'-tails, and the swell and the watery halo round the moon were other bad tokens. They portended wind—wind, and plenty of it. Soon the sky would be completely overcast. Before daylight it would probably be blowing hard.
The Belligerent was somewhere near the tail of the line of battleships. A short distance in front of her came the huge hull of the next ahead clearly silhouetted against the sky. Farther ahead again were the dark outlines of other vessels, their shapes getting smaller and less distinct as they merged in the deep shadows on the horizon.
On board the Belligerent herself half the seamen were at their stations at the guns ready for repelling a possible torpedo attack, and the other half, who had been relieved at midnight, had just retired to their hammocks for four hours' rest before being called up for the morning watch at four o'clock. The ship was in the charge of the officer of the watch, who leant placidly against the standard compass on the upper bridge gazing at the next ahead; while Colomb, the navigator, was asleep on the settee in the charthouse. Captain Spencer was in his sleeping-cabin just underneath, and was dozing, fully dressed, in an arm-chair in front of the stove. The book he had been reading had dropped to the floor, and Joe, his fox-terrier, lay curled up in a tight little bundle at his feet. The captain was a light sleeper at the best of times, and the least unusual sound, even the opening of the door, would have brought him to his feet in an instant. As an extra precaution there was an electric bell screwed to the bulkhead close beside his left ear, and if the officer of the watch desired his immediate presence all he had to do was to place a finger on a push close by the standard compass. The resulting jangle would have roused the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus, let alone the skipper, who never indulged in anything but cat-naps at sea. The officers of watches were well aware of it, for Captain Spencer had a habit of prowling about at night, and frequently came on to the bridge when he was least expected. Once or twice he had found the ship some distance out of station, and then there had been trouble.
Of what really occurred, how long it lasted, and of the actual sequence of events, Pincher had a very hazy recollection. He remembered noticing the captain come on to the bridge and start walking up and down with his hands in his great-coat pockets and his dog padding softly after him. Then, quite suddenly, and for no apparent reason, there came the shattering roar of a heavy explosion. The ship quivered and shook violently; and, glancing aft with his heart in his mouth, Pincher saw a great column of whity-gray water towering high over the boat-deck half-way along the starboard side. He watched it spell-bound. The mass hung for a moment glimmering in the half-light, and then tottered and fell with a sound like a waterfall. He could feel the damp spray of it on his face.
The familiar throb of the engines died away, and there came the roaring bellow of escaping steam; and the ship, evidently holed far below the water-line, heeled over to starboard. Then the roaring of the steam ceased, and there came a moment's dead silence, followed by excited shouting as the men who had been asleep in their hammocks thronged on to the upper deck.
The whole thing happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that for the moment Captain Spencer was taken by surprise; and, running to the after side of the bridge, he stood there gripping the rail spasmodically, with a look of utter astonishment on his face. A bare instant later, however, he turned forward again with a gesture of annoyance; while Joe, taking it for some new game for his especial benefit, frisked beside him. 'Down, Joe! down!' Pincher heard him say in his ordinary voice.—'Stop both engines!' came his first order.—'Officer of the watch!'
'Sir.'
'Go down and tell the commander to get the collision-mat out, and then to turn out all boats. He's not to lower them without orders from me; and tell him to let me know the damage as soon as he can!'