"Fourteen thousand yards, sir," replied Gerald.
The next instant the horizon in the direction of Admiral Neboff's division seemed to be one blaze of dull red fire, a thick pall of smoke rose in the air, and presently the dull revibration of a series of detonations was faintly borne to the ear of the young lieutenant in the conning-tower.
"Hurrah! That's settled their hash," he shouted, carried away by the excitement of the moment. "The——"
The sentence remained unfinished, for, happening to turn his head, he saw the figure of his commanding officer huddled over the indicator-board.
"Hit, sir?" he exclaimed, anxiously.
There was no reply. Gently Gerald lifted the body of the captain and laid him carefully down upon the floor of the conning-tower. Then, in answer to a hurried order, two seamen entered the citadel by means of the armoured spiral staircase, and Captain Brookes was carried below to be placed in the hands of Dr. White.
There was no time to be lost in bewailing the latest catastrophe.
"Pass the word for Mr. Sinclair to take command," ordered Gerald, then, without waiting for the first lieutenant's appearance, he directed the quartermaster to head towards the left flank of the main division of the enemy's fleet.
A hurried glance at the ZZ-ray apparatus showed that this potent means of offence was no longer available.