Three hundred yards . . . two hundred . . . one hundred.
Clang, clang!
The engine-room telegraphs were jerked back to stop. The destroyer quivered. Her bows dropped appreciably.
“Starboard five, quartermaster!”
“Aye, aye, sir; starboard five!”
“Meet her at that, quartermaster!”
“Helm’s amidships, sir!”
“Port! . . . Steady!”
The swimmer’s head was no longer visible from the bridge, owing to the flare of the destroyer’s bows. The hands stationed along the side leant outboard, ready to heave.
“Too much way, sir!” shouted the gunner.