Dick also looked. At two cables' length from them was their consort, which, having circled to starboard, had closed in upon the Calder. Both were now running on parallel courses and at approximately the same speed.
The Calder's skipper also saw the other destroyer. He realized the danger of the formation, for both craft were in a direct line of fire from the forts.
"Hard-a-port!" he shouted.
The quartermaster heard in spite of the terrific din. Round spun the wheel of the steam steering-gear, and with a lurch that gave those below the impression that she was turning turtle, the destroyer made a complete circle. By the time she had steadied on her helm the Irwell was nearly a mile ahead.
A repetition of the terrible fire from Kum Kale greeted the Calder as she tore past the southern-most of the forts, badly mauled but still in fighting trim. Her exploit had been successfully accomplished.
"Can anyone oblige me with a cigarette?" asked the Lieutenant-Commander, as he was rejoined by the officers from the conning-tower.
The Royal Naval Reserve officer hastened to comply.
"Good heavens, sir!" he exclaimed. "You've been hit."
"Yes," assented the skipper coolly. "A piece of shell. It's spoilt my greatcoat, I'm afraid, but what's worse, took my cigarette-case to blazes—and it was a presentation one, worse luck. That's why I had to ask for something to smoke. No, it isn't a case for the medico; a Maltese jeweller will do a bit of business over this affair, I think."
Handing over the charge of the bridge to the second in command, the skipper went below to receive the reports of the surgeon, the chief artificer-engineer, and the gunner as to the damage to personnel and hull and fittings. This done he retired to his cabin—which was considerably draughty, owing to the attentions of a couple of Turkish shells which had passed completely through it without exploding—and proceeded to draft his report to the Admiral.