Nearer and nearer came the mysterious vessel. She was by no means moving at the rate of a light-cruiser, her speed being about 15 knots. She flew three ensigns on various parts of her rigging, but, being end on and against the wind, the colours could not be distinguished.
Presently she ported helm slightly. Another roar of cheering burst from the throats of the Warrior's men, for now the colours were discernible. They were not the Black Cross of Germany--a counterfeit presentment of the White Ensign--but the genuine article--the British naval ensign.
Simultaneously a hoist of bunting ascended to the signal yard-arm. A hundred men could read the letters, but the jumble conveyed nothing to them. Not until the code-book was consulted could the vessel's identity be made known.
"Engadine, sir," replied the chief yeoman of signals. "Sea-plane carrier, that's what she is," he confided in an undertone to another petty officer standing by his side.
A lengthy exchange of semaphore by means of hand-flags ensued, for other methods of communication on the part of the Warrior were impossible, owing to the clean sweep of everything on deck.
And now, in the rapidly rising sea, preparations were made for taking the crippled Warrior in tow. Already the cruiser's stern was well down, and, badly waterlogged, she would prove a handful for a powerfully-engined craft to tow, let alone the lightly-built Engadine.
But Lieutenant-Commander C. A. Robinson of the sea-plane ship Engadine knew his business, and handled his vessel with superb skill. Thrice he manoeuvred sufficiently close to establish communication between his ship and the drifting Warrior, Twice the flexible wire hawser parted like pack-thread. At the third attempt the hawsers held, and the Warrior slowly gathered way, wallowing astern of the Engadine at a rate of 4 knots--but every minute was taking the unvanquished cruiser nearer Britain's shores.
By this time all on board knew that their sacrifice had not been in vain. Jellicoe was known to have effected a junction with Beatty's hard-pressed squadrons, the German High Seas Fleet was in flight, and betwixt them and their North Sea bases was the invincible Grand Fleet. "The Day" had proved to be a day of reckoning for the boastful Huns in their efforts to wrest the trident from Britannia's grasp.
[CHAPTER XI--The Wrecked Sea-plane]
With her stock of torpedoes replenished and certain defects made good, H.M.T.B.D. Calder sheered off from her parent ship, and, increasing speed to 21 knots, shaped a course to rejoin the rest of the flotilla.