"We don't have much luck, do we?" the Orphan said, when he had recovered his normal state of mind.
"No, we don't. Still, there wasn't a submarine there—of that I'm certain. We were sent to find that out—so never mind. Phew! That was hotter than I liked it—it was. I can't think how they missed us."
The Grampus escorted the picket-boat back to Suvla Point, and just after the sun had risen and the hands had been turned out, she ran under the stern of the Achates, and the Sub and the Orphan climbed up the "jumping-ladder".
The Lamp-post, with a relief crew, stood waiting to take over the picket-boat.
"No luck, Lampy; nothing doing," the Orphan said. But his pal was too interested watching the colour effect of the sunrise on the mountain top of Samothrace—to the right of Imbros—and made the tired Orphan look at it too. "Bother old Samothrace, Lampy! I want something to eat. I hope they won't start shelling us" (a big shell had just burst on the beach, opposite the ship) "till I've had a bath and my breakfast. Where are you going?"
"They ran a lighter ashore at 'C' beach last night, and I've to go and clear her, and try to get her off."
"C" beach was round Nebuchadnezzar Point, out of sight behind Lala Baba, and the Turks shelled most things that went there—at any odd hour of the day.
"Poor old Lampy! They'll start shelling you directly you go there—they did me yesterday. Bath—breakfast—sleep—that's what I'm going to do. Nighty! Nighty!"
"Swish-sh-sh—flom-p" went a shell, half-way between the distilling ship and the Achates.
"R-r-r-omp" burst a high explosive on the beach. Another shell, falling into the water close to the Achates, burst, and the smoke drifted along the surface to her bows.