Levelling his rifle, Merridew waited his opportunity. It was not long in coming. One of the sharks was on the point of turning over on its back to attempt a ferocious snap with its tremendous jaws when the rifle cracked. At close range the nickel bullet inflicted a large and mortal wound, and the monster, still writhing, sank out of sight.
Fontayne hit the other, but whether the shot was fatal or not remained an unsettled question to all concerned except the shark. But the main point was that it swam off as hard as it could go.
Meanwhile the rest of the duty-watch had come on deck. Curiosity prompted them to have a glimpse of the two thoroughly-scared Huns, then they proceeded to lower and man the gig—the only available boat.
"There's no hurry," remarked Beverley. "Let 'em feel the breeze a bit longer. It will teach them a lesson."
The sharks having been eliminated from the proposition, all danger to life was at an end. But before the boat came under the Titania's counter the uppermost Hun released his hold. In his fall he tore his companion's grasp from the rope, and the twain hit the water with tremendous force.
Winded and spluttering they rose to the surface, frantically grabbing at each other until they were unceremoniously hauled into the stern-sheets of the gig.
Next morning Harborough had the two Germans brought before him. The men were thoroughly cowed, for that narrow escape from being seized and devoured by sharks had knocked all the stuffing out of them.
Their punishment was solitary confinement, and they were also ordered to make good the damage done to the woodwork of the cabin.
"Strange," remarked the baronet, when the culprits had been removed. "Up to the present we haven't seen a shark in the lagoon but that it has done us a good turn. Now, then, fall in all hands. Another couple of days' work will see the job finished, and then, yo ho, for Old England!"