"Light-cruiser, sir!" replied that officer, after a brief glance at the reflected picture. "And a German, by all the powers!"
"May as well have a look, Mr. Aubyn," said the lieutenant-commander considerately. "She seems in no hurry, and unless she takes it into her head to change her course, she'll pass within eight hundred yards of us."
Terence inspected the periscope representation of the German vessel. Although she flew no ensign, her characteristic masts, funnel, and derricks, as well as her protruding bows—a combination of both clipper and ram—proclaimed her as one of the "Freya" class cruisers, averaging 5600 tons. Her guns were trained abeam, but from their direction it was evident that the Germans had no idea of the peril that menaced them.
The sub. felt his blood tingling. It was the "Terrier" incident over again, only the boot was on the other foot this time.
"Down to thirty feet—charge firing-tank—flood both torpedo-tubes—stand by!" ordered the lieutenant-commander.
He would not run the risk of allowing the tip of the periscope to remain on the surface while the crew were thrusting the two steel cylinders into their respective tubes.
"All correct, sir!" reported the leading torpedo-hand.
"To fifteen feet, then," was the order.
Once again daylight filtered through the periscope. On the bowl stood the image of the doomed cruiser, now showing with remarkable vividness. A slight touch on the steering gear and "E Something" swung a point or so to starboard to enable her tubes to be trained a few feet in advance of the cruiser's bows—a sufficient allowance for the vessel to be fairly in the path of the deadly weapon by the time the torpedo travelled the intervening distance.
A faint detonation, caused by the release of the propelling charge of compressed air was followed by the rush of the water admitted into the now empty tube to compensate the loss of weight of the torpedo. The missile was on its way.