under the circumstances--he dropped his own boats, each with
a crew, and ordered the _Victorious_ and _Mars_ to do the same, and then
gave the signal for full speed ahead. The great engines panted and
throbbed, and the squadron moved forward with ever-increasing speed, the
cruisers and destroyers, according to signal, running ahead of the
battleships; but before full speed was reached, the _Mars_ was struck
under the stern, stopped, shuddered, and went down with a mighty lurch.

This last misfortune convinced the Admiral that the destruction of his
battleships could not be the work of any ordinary submarine, for at the
time the _Mars_ was struck she was steaming fifteen knots and the
underwater speed of the best submarine was only twelve, saving only the
_Ithuriel_, and she did not use torpedoes. The two remaining battleships
had now reached seventeen knots, which was their best speed. The
cruisers and their consorts were already disappearing round Foreland.

There was some hope that they might escape the assaults of the
mysterious and invisible enemy now that the airship had been destroyed,
but unless the submarine had exhausted her torpedoes, or some accident
had happened to her, there was very little for the _Prince George_ and
the _Victorious_, and so it turned out. Castellan's strict orders had
been to confine his attentions to the battleships, and he obeyed his
pitiless instructions to the letter. First the _Victorious_ and then the
flagship, smitten by an unseen and irresistible bolt in their weakest
parts, succumbed to the great gaping wounds torn in the thin
under-plating, reeled once or twice to and fro like leviathans
struggling for life, and went down. And so for the time being, at least,
ended the awful work of the _Flying Fish_.

Leaving the cruisers and smaller craft to continue their dash for the
open Channel, we must now look westward.

When Vice-Admiral Codrington, who was flying his flag on the
_Irresistible_, saw the flashes along the Hillsea ridge and Portsdown
height and heard the roar of the explosions, he at once up-anchor and
got his squadron under way. Then came the appallingly swift destruction
of Hurst Castle and Fort Victoria. Like all good sailors, he was a man
of instant decision. His orders were to guard the entrance to the
Solent, and the destruction of the forts made it impossible for him to
do this inside. How that destruction had been wrought, he had of course
no idea, beyond a gu