Meanwhile Lieutenant-commander Ronald Tressidar was "standing by" his wrecked vessel. He had done everything he could in the interests of the crew. Until day broke it was impossible to form an accurate idea of the extent of the disaster. It was galling to lose his command; there would be a court of inquiry. Of the issue of that Tressidar had no misgivings. The "Antipas" had run ashore in the course of an action with an enemy submarine. The mishap was to be deplored, but it was unavoidable. The destruction of the hostile submarine had been accomplished. That was the object of the destroyer's raison d'etre.
"Can we be of any use?" asked Fuller.
"Not in the slightest, thanks," replied the youthful skipper. "The best you fellows can do is to go ashore. Goodness only knows if there's a railway anywhere in the neighbourhood. At any rate, you can make your way back to Rosyth, and better luck next time. If by any possible chance I can keep you clear of the court of inquiry I will do so. I know perfectly well that you want to be hard at it again, and the 'Hippodrome' seems likely to be particularly busy very shortly, according to all accounts."
"Good luck, old man!" said Fuller earnestly, The three airmen shook hands with the skipper, and dropping into the whaler were rowed shorewards.
"Hard lines on old Tress," declared Fuller. "He'll come out with flying colours, of course; but just fancy the poor fellow cooling his heels ashore waiting for another command when out there——"
And with a comprehensive sweep of his hand he indicated the seemingly limitless expanse of the North Sea—the arena where the question of naval supremacy will be settled, let us hope once and for all time in favour of the glorious White Ensign.
CHAPTER XXIV
ENTWISTLE'S DECISION
"So this is the coastguard station?" asked Billy Barcroft of his youthful guide. "Any chance of getting a conveyance to the nearest station Tongby, I believe?"
"I am afraid not, sir."