The picket-boat took them in tow, and commenced to steam across to Kephalo. Behind her the flames leapt fiercely along the sweep of the bay, and every now and again explosions took place, hurling masses of flame and sparks high in the air. Silhouetted black against these fires was the Cornwallis battleship, left behind to keep the fires burning with her shells—if necessary—and to destroy in the morning the few wooden lighters which had been left behind.
Down along the coast at Anzac the sea was ruddy with the huge fires burning there.
"Well, if they've only been as successful down there, it's been a mighty good show," the Pier-master said as they watched them. "We've only left four condemned guns—blown them up, too—and not a single man, horse, or mule; and we've even taken off the goats belonging to the Indian Transport Column. My hat! it's simply wonderful; I'm going to coil up and do a little 'shut eye' down in the cabin. I have not slept for nearly four days."
"'Kaiser Bill' is down there. I do believe he has brought luck," the Orphan burst out; and then had to explain who "Kaiser Bill" was.
The coxswain, sweeping his hand astern towards Anafarta, called down: "Look, sir, there comes the dawn. We wondered if the weather would hold till Monday, and, thank God! it has."
The Orphan looked, and, hardly noticeable behind the bright glare of the fires, saw the pale light of dawn behind the Anafarta hills.
There was no longer any need for precautions. The "bogey" on the engine-room casings soon burnt brightly, and soon he and Marchant were sharing a big bowl of cocoa, and ravenously eating some more clumsy sandwiches which the men cut for them. Neither of them as yet felt sleepy, because the excitement of success kept them wide awake, though neither had slept for two whole days and nights.
By seven-thirty it became light enough for them to see, ahead of them, on their way from Suvla or Anzac, ten or twelve "water-beetles", a dozen or more trawlers, with long strings of transports' boats, pontoons, and lighters towing behind them; some twenty steamboats, also with their "tows", and several small tugs. The Suvla distilling steamer—the Bacchus—which for four months had been constantly shelled, was steaming on her way to Mudros; and patrolling destroyers, trawlers, and drifters swept the sea just as they always had done, and just as though nothing had happened.
Boom! Boom! came the rumble and thud of the firing of two big guns.
"The Cornwallis, sir, at Suvla," the coxswain said, turning to look, and making the Orphan turn to watch Turkish shells bursting down by the water's edge—just as usual. They had commenced their early morning "hate"—on empty beaches.