Beyond a curt, clearly-enunciated order to the quartermaster, neither of the two officers spoke a word, Crosthwaite gripping the guard-rail and peering ahead, while Sefton kept his attention upon the tell-tale greyish smudge that marked the position of the destroyer ahead.
The result of years of training at night manoeuvres was bearing fruit. Iron-nerved men were at the helm of each boat--men who had long since got beyond the "jumpy" stage, when strange freaks of imagination conjure up visions of objects that do not exist. A false alarm and a rapid fire from the 4-inch guns would be fatal to the enterprise, the success of which depended entirely upon getting well within torpedo-range without being spotted by the alert foe.
A feeble light, screened in all directions save that towards the vessels astern, blinked rapidly from the leading destroyer. It was the signal for the flotilla to form in line abeam.
"Starboard ten!" ordered Crosthwaite.
"Starboard ten, sir!" was the helmsman's reply, while the lieutenant-commander telegraphed for speed to be increased to 22 knots in order to bring the Calder even with the leader.
Had it been daylight the manoeuvre would have been executed with the precision of a machine; being night it was impossible to follow the movements of the whole flotilla, but carried out the orders were, each destroyer keeping station with the one nearest on her starboard beam.
Suddenly the darkness was penetrated by the dazzling beam of a search-light from a ship at a distance of two miles on the Calder's port bow. For a moment it hung irresolute, and then swung round in the direction of the on-coming destroyers.
A huge black mass intercepted the rays, its outlines silhouetted against the silvery glare. The mass was a German light cruiser, evidently detached for scouting purposes and returning with screened lights towards the main fleet.
Instantly a furious cannonade was opened upon the luckless light cruiser from half a dozen of her consorts. For a couple of minutes the firing continued, until, with a tremendous flash and a deafening roar, her magazine exploded.
"The Huns will never admit their mistake," thought Sefton. "They'll claim to have destroyed another of our ships."