The quick-firers were opening out again, the six-inchers punctuating the sharp detonations of the twelve-pounders.
Following the marine officer on deck Farrar was just in time to see the frothy wake of a torpedo that, missing the cruiser's port quarter by a few feet, was tearing at thirty knots, to break surface a couple of miles beyond its desired victim.
Eighteen hundred yards astern a terrific cauldron of foam marked the spot where a hostile periscope had been momentarily sighted. The U-boat had evidently seen that the cruiser was not hurrying to the bed of the Atlantic, and was doing her level best to hasten matters.
"Fritz is a bit of a sticker for once," remarked the engineer-lieutenant, catching sight of Farrar in the bustle and noise. "He usually makes himself very scarce after having got one home when there are quick-firers knocking about. How far is it to the nearest land, navigator?" he inquired of Buntline, one of the lieutenants who happened to be passing.
"A matter of two hundred fathoms under your feet, my lad," was the reply without a moment's hesitation.
"Not taking any," replied the engineer sub with a laugh. "And you'll find nobody asking for greengage jam."
A roar of laughter from the other officers greeted this sally as the discomfited lieutenant, unable to rap out a fitting repartee, vanished through the armoured door of the battery.
"What's the joke about greengage jam, Tommy?" asked Farrar.
"At tea last night," explained the engineer sub, "Old Frosty asked Buntline to pass the greengage jam. It is rather rough luck on Buntline that he's still a bit deaf after that little affair off Zeebrugge. At any rate he thought Frosty had said, 'I am an engaged man,' and proceeded to offer congrats to the fleet paymaster, who, as you know, is a 60 per cent. above proof St. Anthony. Bless my soul! What's that I hear? Only doing four knots now. Think we'll make land before dark?"
The "Tantalus" was slowly foundering. In spite of the continuous action of the powerful Downton pumps the water was gaining. The explosion had not only resulted in the flooding of No. 1 stokehold, but had started some of the plates in the for'ard bulkhead. The damaged metal wall had been shored up and a cofferdam of hammocks and other gear built up to strengthen the weak spot, but even then the precaution failed to do the work that was expected of it.