The Norwegian skipper saw the twin periscopes almost at the same time, as, owing to the "jump" of the submarine, they bobbed up and down in the raging sea. At one moment they would be completely submerged; at another the top of the conning-tower would appear above the surface.
"German, eh?" asked the skipper, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Them everywhere; but I think they will not hurt us—we Norwegian ship. They go to read name on our stern."
Terence did not reply. He gripped the rail and looked stedfastly in the direction of the latest menace. It reminded him of that awful period of suspense when the torpedo came speeding towards the ill-fated "Terrier."
Perhaps, seeing the desperate plight of the "Roldal" the German commander would not waste a precious torpedo. If he did, Terence reasoned it would only hasten the seemingly inevitable end.
"By Jove, what a chance if we had a quick-firer!" exclaimed a voice in his ear, and turning the lieutenant saw that Raeburn had emerged from the chart-room, where he had been during all those hours of danger.
"And if we had use of the helm we would settle her," added Aubyn. "As it is——"
A glistening object cleaving through the waves caused him to break off suddenly. The submarine, with a fiendish disregard of humanity's laws, had let loose a torpedo.
It came straight towards the luckless "Roldal," at times jumping clear of the terrific seas, at others cutting through the great waves with a hiss of escaping air and a smother of foam from its double propellers.
Fully expecting the missile to strike fairly amidships and immediately under the bridge the three officers scurried to the starboard side, Kenneth being assisted by his chum as he lurched across the steeply shelving planks.
"Missed!" he shouted, as the wake of the receding torpedo caught his eye. The weapon had, owing to an erratic roll of the ship, passed a few inches beneath her keel and was now expending its store of compressed air in a useless run.