Almost the next instant he was aware that a similar peril threatened the Calder, for a British destroyer, hit in her engine-room, circled erratically to starboard across her bows.
Gripping the engine-room telegraph-indicator levers, Crosthwaite rammed them to full speed astern. It was his only chance, for he could not pass either across the bows or astern of the crippled destroyer without certain risk of colliding with others of the flotilla. Then he waited--perhaps five seconds--in breathless suspense. Thank God, the Calder began to lose way! It now remained to be seen whether she would gather sternway before her sharp stem crashed into the other destroyer amidships.
Even as he gripped the levers Crosthwaite saw the crew of the crippled craft's after 4-inch gun slew the weapon round to have a smack at the German vessel that had hit her so badly. The gun-layer, pressing his shoulder to the recoil-pad, bent over the sights. The next instant a hostile shell landed fairly upon the 4-inch quick-firer, bursting with an ear-splitting detonation.
When the smoke had drifted away, the gun was no longer visible, only a few twisted pieces of metal marking the spot where the mounting had stood. Of the men serving the quick-firer only one remained--the gun-layer. By the vagaries of explosion he was practically unhurt, except for being partially stunned by the terrible detonation. For some minutes he stood stock-still, as if unable to realize that the gun and his comrades had disappeared; then, making a sudden bound, he leapt into the sea. Evidently under the impression that the vessel was on the point of foundering, he had decided to swim for it.
Well it was for him that the Calder was now almost motionless, although her propellers were going hard astern. Caught by the backwash of the revolving screws, he was swept past the side like a cork in a mountain torrent, until one of the men on the Calder's fore-bridge threw him a rope.
As coolly as if mustering for divisions, the rescued gun-layer made his way aft, and, saluting the gunner, requested to be allowed to assist in serving the Calder's after 4-inch.
Out from behind a dense cloud of smoke leapt a German torpedo-boat. Her commander had spotted the Calder practically without steerage-way, and had made up his mind to ram, since his own craft was badly hit and could not keep afloat much longer.
Quickly Crosthwaite shouted an order. A torpedo leapt from the Calder's deck and disappeared with a splash beneath the surface. Anxiously the lieutenant-commander watched the ever-diverging lines that marked the track of the locomotive weapon. The target was a difficult one, although the range was but 200 yards.
The German skipper saw the approaching danger and attempted to port helm. Crippled in the steam steering-gear, the Hun torpedo-boat was slow in answering. A column of water leapt 200 feet in the air; by the time it subsided the hostile craft was no longer in existence, save as a shattered and torn hull plunging through nineteen fathoms of water to her ocean bed.
By this time the German torpedo-craft had had about enough of it. At least two of them had been sunk by German gun-fire, while another pair, their upper works reduced to a mass of tangled scrap-iron, had mistaken each other for foes, with the result that a German destroyer had been sent to the bottom by a torpedo from her consort.