Ten minutes later a lurid flash, followed by a dull booming noise, came from the nearmost of the two vessels Ross had previously noticed.
"Either mine or torpedo," remarked Barry casually. "It doesn't signify. They won't sink her in a hurry."
"What is she, sir?" asked Vernon.
"Our opposite number, the Snark," replied the Lieutenant-Commander. "See, she's steaming northwards, without any apparent injury. It will be our turn before very long."
At frequent intervals the siren shrieked, as if calling to the rest of the squadron for assistance. Then out of the rising mist, for with the break of day a thin pall of vapour rose from the ice-flecked water, leapt two German torpedo-boats.
"Port side, all hands!" roared Barry.
Officers and crew put the greatest possible distance between them and the side of the ship exposed to the hostile craft. Without slackening speed, the torpedo-boats described a sharp curve. Their officers must have wondered why they were not greeted by the stranded battleship's quick-firers. As they turned, two gleaming objects flopped ungracefully from their decks and disappeared with a splash beneath the surface. Each boat had fired a torpedo from her broadside tubes.
From the place where the midshipmen stood, they were not able to follow the track of the formidable missiles; but they had not long to wait. Both torpedoes struck almost simultaneously—one abreast of the for'ard dummy turret, the other fifty feet farther aft.
High in the air rose a column of water mingled with fragments of iron plating; while in their place of hiding the two lads were smothered with cork-dust and blackened cotton that had been blown from the space betwixt the outer and inner hulls.
"It's lucky for us that they didn't use their quick-firers," remarked Barry. "They would have pulverized us before our destroyers romped up. By Jove, Haye, that dog of yours looks as though he likes it! Hulloa! There you are!"