"Don't hesitate to put any questions you may feel inclined to ask," he continued. "It will be to your interests as well as mine for you to do so. I noticed you were looking at the turrets. These are as yet without their armament, although I hope within a day or two to have the guns in position."
"Then at present you are without means of offence?"
"You will hardly care to make that assertion when you have completed your first inspection of the Olive Branch. But what speed do you think we are doing?"
Tregarthen looked over the side. There was a long, gentle swell setting in from the west, but so great was the ship's rate of speed that she appeared to be travelling over a succession of short, steep seas, yet without the faintest suspicion of a roll or a lurch.
"Forty-five," he hazarded.
"Add twenty to it and you will be nearer the mark. Mr. Gimlette," he added, addressing the officer of the watch, "will you please let me have the present reading of the log?"
The officer ran aft to where the patent log indicator on the taffrail was merrily ringing at less than every fifteen seconds.
"Sixty-seven point five knots, sir."
The reply was given smartly, but in a manner that suggested this speed was an ordinary occurrence. Tregarthen could only gasp in astonishment. It meant the Olive Branch was doing an equivalent to a fraction under seventy-five land miles an hour. Were it not for the wind screens it would be almost a matter of impossibility to face the hurricane that whistled overhead.
"You may have noticed the almost total absence of a bow wave," continued the captain. "This is owing to the vessel's remarkable flare—for which the designers must take the credit. By means of an ingenious contrivance the displaced water is led close alongside, yet the 'skin friction' of the hull is not increased. The effect of this diversion is to give the propellers a better grip. As a matter of fact, the 'slip' of the propellers amounts to less than 5 per cent. Now we will make our way for'ard to the conning-tower."