Promptly the whaler and one of the Berthons were brought on deck. The former was launched over the side and a couple of coils of rope tossed into her. The canvas boat was unfolded, the stretchers put in position, and also put afloat.
The Berthon, in which were three bluejackets acted as scout, rowing on ahead, while one of the hands kept a sharp look-out for any obstructions. The whaler followed, towing a buoy to which was attached a grapnel by means of a 30-foot length of rope.
Provided the grapnel fouled none of the spans connecting the mines it was reasonable to conclude that the submarine could likewise follow without risk, since the depth at which the grapnel was suspended was greater than the draft of R19 when awash.
A cable's length astern of the whaler the submarine cautiously crept through the water, ready at the first alarm to back from the danger.
"Heavens! What is that lubber doing?" exclaimed the Hon. Derek, as the bowman of the Berthon laid aside his oar, seized a boat-hook, and prepared to fend off a circular mine.
"Avast there!" roared the Lieutenant-Commander through his megaphone; but he was too late. Already the foolhardy man was thrusting the metal head of the boat-hook hard against the slippery surface of the mine. Even in calm water the act would have been that of a madman. As it was, the choppy waves rendered the result of the attempt a foregone conclusion. Metal grated on metal, and the next instant one of the fragile horns of the mine snapped off close to its base.
Through his binoculars Fordyce could see the horrified looks on the faces of the men in the Berthon as they attempted to back from the scene of the bowman's ill-judged activity. In four or five seconds the chemical action of the salt water upon the contents of the fractured tube would cause the charge to explode, with annihilating results to the three bluejackets.
Four seconds passed in long-drawn suspense. Five, six, seven—but the expected disaster did not take place.
Not until the Berthon was beyond the danger zone did the Hon. Derek give vent to his feelings.
"Thank Heaven, it's a dud!" he exclaimed fervently.