Osborne realized the situation in the twinkling of an eye. The U-boat, for such she undoubtedly was, had been lying in wait for passing vessels worthy of her attention. It was a piece of the greatest audacity on her part to attempt to operate within a mile of the island of Malta; but, hearing nothing of the nature of a propeller churning the water in her immediate vicinity, she had come to the conclusion that it was safe to display the tips of her periscopes. And now, within easy torpedo range, was a large vessel packed with troops and munitions.
Osborne gave the word to open fire. In spite of the "lively" platform, the gun-layer of the for'ard quick-firer was equal to the occasion. In a trice a gleaming cylinder disappeared into the open breech-block of the gun. The metallic clang, denoting that the breech-block had been closed, had hardly sounded when the weapon barked.
The eyes of all on the patrol-boat were fixed on the target—the two pole-like periscopes that were now almost in line as the submerged boat swung round so as to bring her torpedo-tubes to bear upon her intended victim.
A column of water thrown fifty feet in the air hid the gun-layer's objective from them. A cloud of smoke denoted, however, that the shell had struck something offering more resistance than water, while, in addition, there was no ricochet.
What happened to the U-boat was never known. Whether she sank like a stone, or was able to crawl blindly for some sheltering lair, remained a secret; but the transport passed on her way unmolested.
Three hours later, No. 0916 was safely berthed in Valetta harbour. Here the fouled rope was removed and slight defects made good.
"After all," remarked 'Webb, "perhaps it was a jolly good thing that we did get into that little jamboree. It was a fairly exciting trial trip, eh, what?"