d plates of sheet-iron riveted to it to hide a
gaping hole large enough to drive a stage-coach through. Her guns were
worn out by sheer hard work. It was mainly on this account that she
was homeward bound: to have the gigantic weapons "re-lined" in order
that she might again take her place as an effective unit of the Grand
Fleet.

The middle watch was about to relieve the morning watch. The mess
decks were a seething mass of humanity. In spite of the apparent
confusion everyone was in high good humour, for another few hours
(D.V.) would find H.M.S. _Tremendous_ at Pompey--as Portsmouth has from
time immemorial been termed by the Navy.

On the fire-control platform sleepy-eyed officers were awaiting their
reliefs. Around the 12-pounders, the muzzles of which grinned
menacingly from apparently haphazard positions in the superstructure,
men were grouped, ready at the first alarm to train the weapons upon a
possible foe. Day after day ceaseless vigilance was maintained. One
and all realized that a moment's negligence might result in destruction
by one of the most horrible creations of modern science.

"Submarine on the starboard bow, sir!"

For an instant all was tense silence. Then a bugle blared, followed by
the clear trills of the bos'n's mates' pipes and the hurried tramp of
men's feet.

The officer of the watch brought his telescope to bear ahead. He was a
junior lieutenant, Bourne by name, and in receipt of a private income
of eight hundred a year. On that sum he might have lived the life of a
man of leisure, but he vastly preferred a strenuous life as a
commissioned officer in the Royal Navy. Not once had he regretted his
choice, and upon the outbreak of war he was ready to execute a hornpipe
of sheer delight at the prospect of "being in the big scrap".

"She's flying the white flag, by Jove!" he ejaculated. "Funny,
deucedly funny!"

He had to act, and act promptly, for a battleship travelling at 21
knots does not give a man time to think for any length of time.
Already a messenger had been despatched to inform the "skipper", but
before the captain could gain the navigation bridge (more than likely
he was in his bath) the _Tremendous_ would have covered the intervening
distance.

The quartermaster looked enquiringly at the Lieutenant. Bourne stepped
hastily to the engine-room telegraph indicator, half inclined to ring
down for "half-speed", or even "stop both engines".

He stopped abruptly.