"
He pointed through the darkness ahead, and after much staring my eyes
opened to a dozen destroyers, in two lines, some few hundred yards away.
"Those are the Red Fleet destroyer flotilla, which is too frail to panic
about among the full-blooded cruisers inside Portland breakwater, and
several millimetres too excited over the approachin' war to keep a look-
out inshore. Hence our tattics!"
We wailed through our siren--a long, malignant, hyena-like howl--and a
voice hailed us as we went astern tumultuously.
"The _Gnome_--Carteret-Jones--from Portsmouth, with orders--mm--mm--
_Stiletto_," Moorshed answered through the megaphone in a high, whining
voice, rather like a chaplain's.
"_Who_?" was the answer.
"Carter--et--Jones."
"Oh, Lord!"
There was a pause; a voice cried to some friend, "It's Podgie, adrift
on the high seas in charge of a whole dee-stroyer!"
Another voice echoed, "Podgie!" and from its note I gathered that Mr.
Carteret-Jones had a reputation, but not for independent command.
"Who's your sub?" said the first speaker, a shadow on the bridge of the
_Dirk_.
"A gunner, at present, Sir. The _Stiletto_--broken down--turns over to
us."
"When did the _Stiletto_ break down?"
"Off the Start, Sir; two hours after--after she left here this evening, I
believe. My orders are to report to you for the manoeuvre signal-codes,
and join Commander Hignett's flotilla, which is in attendance on
_Stiletto_.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124