He had made up his mind to go to the assistance of the distressed vessel. At a rough calculation she was about fifty or sixty miles away in a south-westerly direction, and, as the seaplane had a speed of a hundred miles an hour under favourable conditions, the Lieutenant hoped to reach her in a little over half an hour. A glance at the petrol gauges showed that the supply was running low and that there was only enough left to carry the machine seventy or eighty miles, which would mean about twenty miles short of the return journey. But Lawless, with his usual disregard for consequences, decided to deal with that problem when it arose, nor did he stop to ask himself what practical assistance he could render the Nimrod when he arrived.
Shouting some instructions to Cassidy, he started the engines. The great propeller began to revolve, and the seaplane, after skimming along the surface of the water for fifty yards or so, rose gracefully in the air. The conditions, apart from the haze, were excellent for flying, and, after a flight of twenty-five minutes, Lawless made out what looked like a cloud of black smoke rising vertically above the mist. A few moments afterwards he could see the hull of a large steamer with a heavy list to starboard and so low down at the bows that her propellers were raised above the water. The Lieutenant at once volplaned to the surface, hoping that he might catch sight of some of the ship's boats, which, no doubt, had been launched as soon as the vessel was struck by the torpedo. But the low-lying mist, much thicker here than near the coast, prevented his seeing anything outside a very narrow radius.
The derelict was on fire aft, and, judging by the boatless derricks and loosely hanging falls, all the boats had got safely away. But, in spite of the deserted appearance of the ship, Lawless determined to board her and make a hasty search in case some sick or helpless person had been overlooked at the last moment—such things had occurred before to his knowledge. A few turns of the seaplane's propeller brought her alongside, and, catching hold of one of the falls, he hauled himself on to the port taffrail.
"Mike," he shouted back to his mechanic, "stand by till I return. This packet isn't going to keep afloat much longer."
"And what'll yer honour be doing aboard that floatin' coffin, begging yer pardon, sorr?" asked Cassidy.
"I'm going to make sure that nobody's left aboard."
"Then if yer going into that smouldering hell, it's meself that's coming wid ye, sorr," said the Irishman, in defiance of all the rules of discipline.
"All right, come on then," answered Lawless, thinking the man might possibly be of some assistance.
The mechanic made the seaplane fast to one of the falls and then joined the Lieutenant. Owing to the angle at which the vessel had canted over, it was difficult to maintain an upright position on the deck, and so they slid, rather than walked, towards the main staircase. Descending this, they reached a vestibule, giving access to a magnificent saloon and also to a couple of long, narrow alleyways upon which the cabins opened. These alleyways, extending aft from amidships, were separated by the engine-room bulkheads, so that between them there was a large shaft which served to ventilate the engine-room by means of the top grating.
"Cassidy, you look in the cabins on the port side and I'll take those on the starboard," said the Lieutenant.