A blinding flash, and the distressingly sharp report of cordite, followed immediately. It was our first shot, but it did more damage than the Frenchman, with all her firing, had been able to inflict on us. As we strained our eyes in the direction of the boat, we saw the shell burst right between her funnels.
"Good shot!" I yelled in triumph.
"THE POOR WRETCHES RUSHED UP ON DECK TO FIND THEIR FRAIL COCKLESHELL GOING OVER RAPIDLY."
A brilliant flare of spark and flame shot suddenly up into the night, and then came a fearful agonised pandemonium, as the poor wretches rushed up on deck, to find their frail cockleshell of a ship hit in her vitals, and going over rapidly. We could see the water full of struggling figures, and then suddenly she heeled and collapsed, and I could look no more, for the cruiser, without attempting to pick up a soul, now began to fire rapidly and continuously at us.
Taylor, in our tiny conning tower, was steering a most erratic course, which rendered hitting us a matter of some difficulty, as all the target we presented was our stern, which, only coming at intervals into the glare of the searchlight, was no easy matter to follow with a gun.
We now began to fire continuously also, but could not tell whether our shots told or not, and indeed we could hardly hope to do much damage, for the cruiser was evidently a boat of weight, and, in accordance with the French custom, would be heavily armoured round her bows.
I looked at my watch. It was past eight, and we could reasonably hope to be within sight and hearing of Gibraltar soon.
For the next fifteen minutes nothing of importance happened; but just as we sighted Tarifa Light ahead, there was a terrible crash, followed by a loud report, and I was thrown flat on my back on the deck.