On the other hand, if the vessel were a hostile craft, how came she to pass the outer drifter patrol without being challenged by the alert guardians of the Straits?
Since the two vessels were approaching from almost exactly opposite directions at an aggregate speed of approximately thirty-eight knots, there was no time to be lost. The "Zenodorus" was cleared for action. Her 6-inch quick-firers were loaded and trained abeam, ready for eventualities, but, if shots were to be exchanged, the stranger would open fire first, while as she swept by she would probably loose a couple of torpedoes at close range. It was one of the few advantages possessed by the Germans and their allies with the practical disappearance of their above-water ships: every vessel they met was either an enemy or a neutral. Should a mistake be made and a neutral vessel sent to the bottom Germany would apologise for the "regrettable incident" and offer compensation, but rarely did the owners of the luckless neutral craft receive anything beyond the empty "offer."
Sub-Lieutenant Farrar was quick to act. He knew that the senior watch-keeper was in the chart-room. Before the navigator could emerge from the brilliantly illuminated compartment and accustom his eyes to the sudden transition from light to darkness the mischief would be done—one way or the other.
"Port five!" ordered the sub.
"Port five, sir," replied the quartermaster.
"Steady!"
"Steady, sir," was the echoing response.
"'Midships!" Then to the watch on deck, "Prepare to ram!"
Even before the alert quartermaster could reply the expected happened. The sharp bows of the "Zenodorus" crashed into the starboard side of the stranger just abaft the foremast.
Those of the armed merchant cruiser's men who had not thrown themselves flat upon the deck at the order to prepare to ram were hurled violently off their feet, while above the rending of steel plates came the loud sounds of the foremast and its attendant raffle falling athwart the "Zenodorus" deck.