"Shall I make this fast alongside, sir?" he asked. "Perhaps you'd be likely to examine it in the morning."
"No," was the reply, "Tow it clear of the Paradox's hawse and cast it adrift."
The boat pushed off. The officer of the watch, returning to the bridge, watched the progress of the two barrels as they wobbled in her wake.
Suddenly his attention was aroused in another direction by a loud shout of; "Vessel dead ahead, sir!"
Sweeping round a bend in the river into the glare of the searchlights was the Pelikan. She was drifting broadside on, her length appearing to occupy the whole breadth of the deep channel.
"Action stations, there!" roared the officer of the watch.
A bugle blared. Up from below tumbled swarms of men dressed in motley array of a meagre description. The officers, berthed in the after part of the superstructure, rushed out. In thirty seconds the turret, with its pair of monster 14-inch guns, was surging round as a preliminary test of the turning mechanism.
At a glance Stirling took in the situation. The Pelikan, being not under control, had been turned adrift with the object of fouling and seriously damaging the British vessels lying in the strong tideway.
He telegraphed for half-speed ahead. The engine-room bell had not clanged a minute when the propellers began to churn. Hurriedly the cable was slipped, and the anchor with eighty fathoms of studded steel chain was lost for ever in the muddy bed of the Mohoro.
The youthful lieutenant-commander's first duty was to avoid the danger of being fouled. He could not go astern until the Paradox was safely under way. Regarding the Pelikan he was as yet uncertain whether to order the sea-boats to board her and drop anchor, if by chance her ground tackle were ready for instant use, or whether to sink the raider without further ado.