On the evening of the third day Malcolm had to accompany Lieutenant Nicholson on the rounds. After visiting the various mess decks the upper deck had to be inspected. It was a pitch-dark night. The stars were obscured. Beyond the long undulations the sea was calm.
Transport 109, otherwise the S.S. Pintail, was leading vessel of the starboard column, the formation being that known as "double column ahead". The Gosport was two miles distant on the starboard bow, her position indicated solely by a feeble stern lantern. The vessels forming the convoy were steaming with all navigation-lamps screened, keeping station merely by means of the phosphorescent wake of the vessel next ahead.
"Hallo, what's the move?" exclaimed Mr. Nicholson as the six transports altered helm, swung round until they formed double column line abreast. "We're at right angles to our former course. What's the Gosport doing?"
The Lieutenant walked to the rail. Malcolm and the rest of the party halted and watched a masthead signalling-lamp that was blinking rapidly on the cruiser.
Suddenly the beams of two powerful search-lights from the Gosport's bridge pierced the darkness. The giant rays were directed full upon the hull of a large vessel steaming about five cable-lengths from, and on a parallel course to, that of the cruiser.
The stranger had been showing no steaminglights. She was a two-masted, double-funnelled craft of about four thousand tons. On her side, clearly shown up in the rays of the search-light, were painted the Dutch national colours, and the words Waeszyl, Holland in letters six feet in height.
Again the Gosport's flashing-lamp began signalling; but while the message, whatever it might mean, was still in progress, two tongues of flame leapt from the cruiser's side, and the simultaneous roar of a double report crashed through the night.
An instant later a stupendous blaze of light, followed by a detonation the volume of which completely drowned all other sounds, dazzled the eyes and burst upon the ears of the spectators. A pall of black smoke, tinted silvery in the rays of the search-lights, marked the spot where the so-called Waeszyl had been. For some seconds objects of varying sizes, hurled high in the air, dropped into the sea, some of them in perilous proximity to the convoy. After that--silence.
From the troop-decks of the transports crowds of men poured through the hatchways. It was an impossible task to try to keep the New Zealanders below. They simply had to see what there was to be seen; which, according to the general verdict, was precious little.
Presently boats were lowered from the cruiser, and a search was made over and around the spot where the mysterious vessel had disappeared. In less than half an hour the boats returned, the searchlights were switched off, and the cruiser and her charges resumed their interrupted course.