“Be ready, men, she’s coming this way. Either they will sink, or we shall. You must choose—I promise full pardon to all—if we sink her.”
A low murmur ran along the decks. In it were betrayed both joy and fear:—joy for the promised reprieve, fear at the sudden unknown danger of the approaching torpedo-boat.
O’Neil’s clear voice was raised in cautioning.
“Steady, men. Don’t fire; she’s too far away. Wait till I give you the word. Then fire for your lives.”
The “Aquadores” turned swiftly toward the object illuminated by the search-light of the “Barcelo.” The former ship was in complete darkness.
“Can you read the range?” questioned the captain’s eager voice.
Phil put his eyes to the range finder and moved a switch which made the torpedo-boat’s bright hull appear as a line of light. He moved his wheel and brought the direct and reflected rays together.
“Five thousand yards,” he announced.
“Let me know when she is twenty-five hundred yards away,” said Captain Garcia.
The “Aquadores” was steaming at full speed toward the rapidly moving torpedo-boat. They were approaching each other at terrific speed, yet to the overwrought midshipman it seemed an age when his range pointer reached the distance given him by the captain.