"Agreed," declared Branscombe. "It's the penalty for sailing under false colours. At anyrate we've been in the thick of the scrap, so that's some consolation. I say! think you could get me some water? My throat's like a lime-kiln."
Stepping over the prostrate forms of half a dozen exhausted and wounded men, Seton made his way to the companion-ladder leading to the little ward-room. A foot of water was flowing noisily to and fro over the floor. Abaft the bulk-head was the galley. For want of a cup Alec took down a small saucepan and held it under the tap of the water-tank.
The tank was empty. Even its large capacity was not sufficient for the needs of forty-odd thirsty men.
Foiled and disappointed Alec made for the deck. As he descended the ladder, a rousing cheer burst upon the night. Out of the fog a large vessel was bearing down upon the sinking M.-L.
Ten minutes later the survivors of M.-L. 254 and most of the Vindictive's officers and men were safely on board H.M.S. Warwick, the flagship of Vice-Admiral Sir Roger Keyes, while M.-L. 254, her work accomplished, disappeared beneath the waves.
Equally daring was the brilliant affair of M.-L. 276, commanded, like M.-L. 254, by a Royal Naval Volunteer Lieutenant. No. 276 followed the Vindictive into Ostend Harbour, her crew boldly engaging the Huns on both piers with machine-guns, as if to impress upon the enemy that they were there and intended to "make a splash". Running alongside the Vindictive, after M.-L. 254 had taken off the survivors, the crew of the frail little craft shouted and searched for any possible hands who, in the hurry of abandoning ship, might have been overlooked. Finding no one, the M.-L. backed away the while under a terrific fire. In the midst of a hail of shell and machine-gun bullets the crew of the M.-L. saw a boat floating keel upwards to which were clinging three men.
These were rescued under most difficult circumstances, for the three were badly wounded and practically unable to help themselves. It was afterwards found that one of the rescued was Lieutenant Sir John Alleyne, on whom the command of the Vindictive had fallen on the death of the gallant Godsal.
Almost by a miracle M.-L. 276 got clear. Hit in fifty-five places and with three of her crew casualties, she managed to keep under way until picked up and taken in tow by the British monitor Prince Eugene.
The heroic ending of the old Vindictive was literally the clinching of the last nail in the coffin of the Huns' Belgian Coast defences. St. George's Day had all but completed the work; 10th May, 1918 settled it. From that day the Belgian ports were useless to the enemy both as torpedo-boat and submarine bases. The Dover Patrol had closed and secured the Gateway of the Channel against all hostile traffic both on and under the sea.