Somewhat diffidently, George up-helmed and ordered full speed ahead. He, like the rest of the crew, was, before the war, a paid hand in a racing yacht; keen, alert, and a thorough seaman, but unused to a powerfully-engined boat. Ask him to bring a sailing-boat alongside in half a gale of wind, he would have complied with the utmost skill, luffing at the exact moment and allowing the craft to lose way with her canvas slatting in the breeze without the loss of a square inch of paint. Bringing a "match-box crammed chock-a-block with machinery" alongside was a totally different matter; but, as it had to be done, George clenched his teeth and gripped the spokes of the wheel, determined to die like a true Briton.
The patrol-boat had covered but half of the distance back to the Calder when she almost leapt clear of the water. The two deck-hands for'ard were thrown flat, and, sliding over the slippery planks, brought up against the low stanchion rails. A slight shock, barely perceptible above the pulsations of the motors, and the little packet dipped her nose under to the water, shook herself clear, and resumed her mad pelt.
"What's up, George?" sang out the mate.
"Dunno," replied the coxswain. "Guess we've bumped agen' summat."
Then, the dread possibility that he had run dawn his own skipper entering his mind, he decided to return and investigate.
Having had but little experience in the use of the reversing-gear, George slammed the lever hard-to. With a sickening jerk, as if the little craft were parting amidships, the patrol-boat stopped and gathered sternway. A minute later she backed over a large and ever-increasing pool of iridescent oil, through which air-bubbles were forcing their way.
"By Jupiter!" exclaimed one of the crew; "blest if we haven't rammed a strafed U boat."
The man had spoken truly. A German submarine, acting independently of the raiding-squadron, had sighted the Calder, hove-to, at a distance of three miles. Unaware of the presence of the patrol-boat--and the sight of a patrol-boat or a trawler usually gives the German unterseebooten a bad attack of the blues--her kapitan had taken a preliminary bearing prior to submerging in order to get within effective torpedo range. Having judged himself to have gained the required position, the Hun ordered the boat to be again brought to the surface.
At the critical moment he heard the thud of the propellers of the swiftly-moving patrol-boat. He attempted to dive, but too late. The sharp steel stem of the little craft, moving through the water at the rate of a railway train, nicked the top of the U boat's conning-tower sufficiently to penetrate the plating. Before steps could be taken to stop the inrush of water the U boat was doomed. Sinking slowly to the bottom, she filled, the heavy oil from her motors finding its way to the surface in an aureole of iridescent colours to mark her last resting-place.
George, seaman first, and fighting-man next, gave little thought to his involuntary act. The safety of his temporary command came foremost.