Having drawn clear of the boom, and left the pulling cutter and the whaler to their fate, the steamboat forged ahead, and put a safe distance betwixt her and the trap that had all but proved fatal to the unfortunate landing party.
The result of running ahead was to increase the rush of water through the holed plank, which, located close to the bulkhead at the fore-end of the stokehold, was awkward to get at. Moreover, a hole in a diagonal-planked craft is specially difficult to repair, even in a temporary fashion. In spite of the action of the powerful pumps the water was gaining, although the transverse bulkhead kept the engine-room from being flooded. Yet the danger of the boat foundering had to be faced.
With fire-tinged smoke pouring from her funnels the cutter continued her retreat. As long as she kept on a certain bearing, she was masked by the cliffs from the search-light and the direct fire of the Turkish quick-firers yet Osborne knew that by so doing he was running a risk of piling the little craft upon one of the numerous ledges of rock that jutted out from the shore.
"Vessel dead ahead, sir," reported the look-out man.
A couple of hundred yards away and right athwart the steamboat's course was a long, low-lying craft, apparently hove-to. She showed no lights, nor had she attempted to hail the approaching British boat. To pass her to starboard meant almost certain disaster upon the rocks; to alter helm to pass her to port would result in the steamboat entering the field of the search-lights, and consequently make her an easy target for the hostile guns.
"Stand by, there!" exclaimed Osborne. "Let her have it directly I give the word. Steady on your helm, coxswain. Keep her at that."
For a few seconds Lieutenant Osborne kept his glasses focused on the mysterious craft. Was she a Turkish patrol-boat intent upon cutting off the steam cutter's retreat, or one of the British motor craft sent to assist the landing party?
Suddenly the Lieutenant gave a chuckle of delight.
"It's our old friend the Turkish torpedo-boat," he remarked to Haynes. "We gave her what-ho! on our way to pick you up. Her crew jumped overboard and swam for it."
One thing still puzzled him. The torpedo-boat, when abandoned by her panic-stricken crew, was a couple of miles farther to the south-west. Now, although apparently without way, she had almost grounded on the north-eastern shore of the extensive bay.