"She's disabled, sir," exclaimed Captain Staggers. "Look, there she goes."
The seaplane disappeared behind Fort San Josef. Her two consorts, disdainful of the fate which had overtaken her, still flew serenely over the Valderian lines, occasionally dropping bombs, but more frequently reporting the effect of the fire of the British field-guns.
"What's that?" demanded Captain Staggers, grasping his superior officer's arm in his eagerness. "Look, sir, at the fort."
Standing upon the ramparts and showing clearly against the skyline was a man in naval uniform. Rapidly he uncleated the halliards of the flagstaff and hauled down the Valderian flag. Then, even as he waved his white-covered cap in triumph, he suddenly pitched forward on his face and rolled inertly down the steep face of the earthworks.
"It's Vine, the pilot of G5, sir," said Bourne.
Enraged by the lieutenant's fall the attackers implored the officers to be allowed to storm the position. The men were like hounds in leash, eager to vent their fury upon their foes.
But Admiral Maynebrace hesitated. The significance of Fort San Josef offering no active resistance was ominous.
Up dashed a sub-lieutenant.
"G2 reports safe to advance, sir," he said.
"Fort San Josef is mined, but G5 destroyed the firing station and has cut the wires."