Cervillo's luck was out. The atmosphere still remained perfectly clear; night was a long way off. Within another three hours the pirates must either fight to the last, or submit themselves prisoners.
"There's the Cerberus, sir," reported the look-out. "Dead astern."
"Good," ejaculated Drake. "Now the fun will commence in earnest. Tell her that there are no signs of any prisoners, so the sooner she gets the range the better."
Two hours later the scout came within firing distance. Overhead her four tenders—for the remaining two aero-hydroplanes had arrived on the scene—were manoeuvring at a safe altitude in order to observe the effect of the gunfire.
"There she goes!" shouted Drake, as a bright flash came from the fo'c'sle of the scout. With a peculiar screech the twelve-pounder shell tore through the air, passed within fifty yards of the fugitive yacht, as a stern reminder to heave-to, then, ricochetting three or four times, finally disappeared half a mile ahead of the pursued vessel.
Doggedly the Serena held on her course. The primeval instinct to flee until actually caught still lingered in the minds of the pirates, but on certain points their opinions were divided. Cervillo, with several of his men, was resolved to die rather than submit to capture; while Da Silva and the rest of the pirates, still hoping against hope, were inclined to give themselves up and trust that mercy might yet be shown them.
The second shell struck the yacht's fore-mast just below the cross-trees, and with a rending crash the top hamper came tumbling down. Held by the steel shrouds the shattered timber trailed over the side, the drag in the water causing the yacht to slew round.
Thinking that the pirates had given in and were easing down, the Cerberus withheld her fire. But Cervillo had no intention of surrendering. Calling half-a-dozen men to his aid he ran forward and began to hack through the lanyards of the shrouds. Desperately the men worked till the obstruction was cast off, and the doomed yacht resumed her flight.
It was not the intention of the Cerberus to sink her prey. Capture at all costs was the order of the captain. There might be prisoners, and more than likely rich booty stowed underneath her hatches. Could the Serena be deprived of the means of propulsion the boats of the scout would soon settle matters.
Crash! A shell striking the base of the funnel reduced it to atoms, and, tearing away a portion of the deck and bulwarks, sent a dozen of the pirates to their last account. Volumes of smoke poured through the aperture where the funnel casings had been. The yacht reeled violently, then a cloud of steam rushed upwards from her engine-room. One of the cylinders had burst, and the engines were completely disabled.