The triple mast had buckled, but its fall was retarded by the strain upon the metal tubing. Instead of snapping off like a carrot, it was as though the tripod was held by a stiff and rusty hinge.
For perhaps five seconds the fall was retarded, then with a quick movement the bulky top-hamper lurched with a sickening movement until it brought up across the broad deck, with the metal box in which the sub. and his chum were penned hanging seven or eight feet over the side.
Bruised and shaken, Tressidar retained his alertness of mind and body. Without relaxing his grip upon his chum he scrambled through the partly demolished roof. It was the only way, since the aperture in the floor was too small for a hurried exit, especially when burdened with a helpless comrade.
Not knowing how he did it, the sub. found himself perched on the mast with the A.P. clasped tightly to his back. Now it was that his gymnastic training proved of service, for, in spite of his burden, he walked the outboard part of the now almost horizontal mast and dropped lightly to the "Anzac's" deck—the only unwounded executive officer of the crippled monitor.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE "ANZAC'S" DAY
On deck a few smoke-begrimed seamen were engaged in directing hoses upon the still smouldering wreckage of the superstructure; others were unbattening the armoured hatches and clearing away some of the debris.
Handing Greenwood to the care of two of the men, Tressidar made his way to the conning-tower, with the intention of reporting himself to the captain.
The entrance, protected by a section of armoured plate set vertically, was blocked with wreckage. The sub. put out his hand to steady himself as he surmounted the obstruction. To his surprise the metal wall was hot, almost unbearably so. The impact of the shell that had cracked the dome of the conning-tower had generated intense heat to the rest of the structure.