"Bomb, sir?" said the junior, showing an interest which almost made him conversational.
"Sure thing," said the other. "She gave us the tip when she saw him, and that'll be one to put him under."
"How far d'you think it was?"
"Seven-eight mile. You all ready?"
The First Lieutenant nodded and slipped down the ladder again. Three miles astern came a couple of white specks—the bow-waves of big destroyers pushed to their utmost power. The Captain studied them a moment with his binoculars, and gave a grunt which the helmsman rightly interpreted as one of satisfaction. Slow as she was, the old T.B. had a long start, and was going to be on the spot first. The dark was shutting down, and the shapes of the other T.B.'s on either beam were getting dim.
The night was starlit, and with the wind astern the T.B. made easy weather of it. The two officers leaned forward over the rail staring ahead towards the unseen land. Lights showed on either hand, and occasionally they swung past the dark squat shape of a lit trawler, also bound home.
"Are you going to claim?" asked one of the watching figures. The other paused before replying—
"We-ell," he said, "I'll just report. I think we shook him to the bunt, but it's no good claiming unless you can show prisoners, Iron Cross and all." Another ruminative pause. "Your people were smart on it—devilish smart." Another pause. "What's for dinner?"
A dark mass ahead came into view, and turned slowly into a line of great ships coming towards them.