of one fleet against four. Ah, there's another! A
third-class cruiser--I think I know her, she's the old _Leger_--they
must have thought they had an easy job of it if they sent her here. Low
free board, not worth shooting at. We'll go over her. No armour--what
idiots they are to put a thing like that into the fighting line!"

He took the transmitter down and said:

"Stand by there, Castellan! Get your pumps to work, and I shall want
full speed ahead--I'm going to run that old croak down--hurry up."

He put the transmitter back on the hooks and presently Lennard saw the
bows of the _Ithuriel_ rise quickly out of the water. The doomed vessel
in front of them was a long, low-lying French torpedo-catcher, with one
big funnel between two signal-masts, hopelessly out of date, and
evidently intended only to go in and take her share of the spoils.
Erskine switched off the searchlight, called for full speed ahead and
then with clenched teeth and set eyes, he sent the _Ithuriel_ flying at
her victim.

Within five minutes it was all over. The fifty-ton ram rose over the
_Leger's_ side, crushed it down into the water, ground its way through
her, cut her in half and went on.

"That ship ought to have been on the scrap-heap ten years ago," said
Erskine as he signalled for half-speed and swung the _Ithuriel_ round to
the westward.

"She's got a scrap-heap all to herself now, I suppose," said Lennard,
with a bit of a check in his voice. "I've no doubt, as you say, this
sort of thing may be necessary, but my personal opinion of it is that
it's damnable."

"Exactly my opinion too," said Erskine, "but it has to be done."

The next instant, Lennard heard a sound such as he had never heard
before. It was a smothered rumble which seemed to come out of the
depths, then there came a shock which flung him off his feet, and shot
him against the opposite wall of the conning-tower. The _Ithuriel_
heeled over to port, a huge volume of water rose on her starboard side
and burst into a torrent over her decks, then she righted.

Erskine, holding on hard to the iron table to which the signalling board
was bolted, saved himself from a fall.

"I hope you're not hurt, Mr Lennard," said he, looking round, "that was
a submarine. Let a torpedo go at us, I suppose, and didn't know they
were hitting twelve-inch armour."

"It's all right," said Lennard, picking himself up. "Only a bruise or
two; nothing broken. It seems to me that this new naval wa