The yacht, a steamer of about 3,000 tons, came round with her bows pointing towards the Hawk's starboard quarter, and, as she reached that position, there came the sullen boom of a gun. A shell whistled above the privateer's upper works, smashing to splinters one of the boats which the carpenter had been repairing on the davits. A second shot followed hard upon the first, and then a third, which smashed one of the raised skylights above the engine-room, sending a shower of broken glass upon the men below.
"Blimey!" ejaculated Smith as he stood by his gun, lanyard in hand, "this looks like the real thing—not half it don't."
The damage done by the last two shots would have been greater still had not Calamity thrust the quartermaster away from the wheel and taken it himself. Under his control, the Hawk slewed round so that she presented only her bows as a target for her opponent. As the sound of the latter's guns died away, she was seen to hoist the German naval ensign at her stern, while a signal hoist was run up to the mast-head signifying "Surrender or I sink you."
There was a lull, the two vessels facing each other bows-on like a couple of fierce dogs about to fight. Then a little bundle trundled up to the Hawk's triatic stay, broke, and two burgees, one blue and white, the other red, fluttered out in the breeze. It was Calamity's answer: "Stand by to abandon ship." As his men looked up and read the signal there was a burst of hoarse laughter, followed by a ringing cheer. They realised the grim humour of the message, and thoroughly appreciated it.
During the next half-hour the engagement consisted only of the exchange of a few shots, one or two of which did damage on both sides. The belligerents were manoeuvring for position, each trying to force the other to fight facing the sun, which would, of course, place him at a serious disadvantage. While these tactical evolutions were in progress, a couple of the Hawk's men received wounds and Miss Fletcher, who had been watching the spectacle through her cabin porthole, rushed on deck, in spite of the risk she ran of being hit herself. She was helping to remove one of the injured men, when Calamity caught sight of her.
"Send that fool-woman to her cabin!" he roared to Mr. Dykes.
The mate hesitated. He was extraordinarily impressed by the girl's plucky act, but the Captain's order, though a wise one, struck him as being unduly harsh. Besides, he was loth to miss such a unique opportunity of, perhaps, doing daring deeds under her very eyes.
"D'you hear what I say?" shouted the Captain.
"Excuse me, sir," he answered; "but who's to look after the wounded if Miss Fletcher doesn't?"
"If the girl wants to make herself useful she can dress the men's wounds in the hold. But I won't have a woman on deck during a fight."