Already submarine H29, with Lieutenant Ingoldsby at his post in the conning-tower, had entered into pursuit, making for the gap in the British mine-field through which alone the enemy ships could pass. But he had not counted on their hasty retreat or calculated the speed of their flight.
As they crossed in advance of him, not seeing his periscope, he fired his two bow torpedoes, and missed. He got astern of them and fired two more. But just as the missiles left their tubes there was an ominous crash and a fierce explosion.
The submarine had run up against one of the Germans' floating mines, which broke her like an egg, and the H29 and all who were in her sank to their last resting-place at the bottom of the North Sea.
CHAPTER XXII.
CUT AND RUN.
Seth Newruck, who lived at the north end of the town, had been to Alderwick Hall to take certain reports and accounts to the Scout Commissioner, and was returning across the fields when he heard the firing of naval guns from somewhere out at sea.
He had previously seen the gunboat leave her anchorage, and he believed at first that her gunners were practising, or that perhaps some of the patrolling trawlers were exploding floating mines. He was not alarmed.
But very soon the loud, insistent booming convinced him that the guns were heavier than those of the Kingfisher, and that some sort of naval engagement was going on out there beyond the curtain of sea mist.
He began to run. Coming out upon the highway, he crossed the warren to the edge of the cliff and stood looking out to sea. He could see the flashes of the guns, flickering through the fog like summer lightning.
If ships were firing upon the Kingfisher, then assuredly they were enemies—a squadron of the German Fleet! Perhaps they were even engaged with a division of our British Dreadnoughts! The thought thrilled him in all his nerves.