le lot will be in time to
snap them up. Unless I'm much mistaken, there are two more astern of
her."

Almost as he spoke, a spurt of flame rent the dull sky. Then, to the
accompaniment of a vivid flash and an ear-splitting detonation, a
5.9-inch shell burst against the for'ard dummy turret of the
_Hunbilker_.

When the smoke had cleared away, guns, turret, and conning-tower,
together with a portion of the bridge, had vanished.

"All hands abandon ship!" ordered Barry, as a salvo of light
projectiles flew round, over, and through the decoy.

It was quite time. Several men had been hit, since there was nothing
to afford complete protection from the hail of shells. The difficulty
was to find a boat that was seaworthy, since these suffered almost at
once from the flying fragments of metal.

"Hurrah, sir!" shouted one of the men. "There are our destroyers."

He was right. Seven British destroyers were tearing through the water,
intent upon giving the Germans the punishment that they had boasted to
inflict upon the strafed Englishmen--a hussar stroke.

Instantly the galling fire ceased. The German cruiser had all her work
cut out to endeavour to beat off her wasp-like antagonists.

The _Hunbilker_ was doomed. In spite of elaborate precautions against
fire, she was burning furiously. Her fo'c'sle was a mass of flames,
generated by the intense heat of the first shell that had struck her.
Smaller fires, too, had started in other parts of the ship.

But help was at hand. One of the covering destroyers had witnessed her
plight. Adroitly manoeuvring, she came right alongside the burning
ship.

"Jump, men!" shouted Barry.

There was no time to be lost. The danger of the flames communicating
with the shells and war-heads on the destroyer's deck was to be taken
into consideration.

"Come on, old man!" exclaimed Ross, as his chum looked anxiously about
him.

"Where's Shrap?" asked Vernon. "He was here a minute ago."

In the confusion, occasioned by the rush of men to leap upon the
destroyer, the dog had vanished.

Without a word Vernon ran towards the companion leading to the
half-deck. Above the roar of the flames and the hissing of steam, he
had heard the well-known bark of his pet.

"Silly ass!" muttered Ross; but he, too, followed his chum.

Wreaths of thin smoke were issuing from the companion as Ross gained
the head of the ladder. Putting his muffler round his mouth, he groped
his way down.