A SHOT AT THE RUDDER.
"_Ach Himmel!_" groaned Hans Poffer. "Suppose dey hit us vee----"
He got no further. There was another burst of smoke, a quick,
lightning-like flash and the same screech of a projectile. But this
time, accompanying the sound of the report, was a sound of tearing metal
and the ship shook as if she had struck on the rocks.
"The after funnel," cried Jack, pointing to a jagged hole in the smoke
stack.
"The next one may come closer," choked out Bill rather shakily.
On the lower decks there was the wildest confusion. Women were fainting
and the stewards and petty officers had all they could do to handle the
frightened throngs. The striking of the funnel was the occasion for an
angry and badly scared deputation to wait upon the captain and demand
that he stop the ship at once.
But the deputation did not reach the bridge. They were met at the foot
of the stairway leading to it by a polite but firm officer who informed
them that under no circumstances would the captain tolerate any
interference with his method of running the ship.
A third shot, which went wide, closely followed the one that had struck
the after funnel. It flew high above them and caused Jack to observe:
"I don't believe they mean to hit the hull, but only to scare the
captain into heaving the boat to."
"Looks that way," agreed Bill, "and as for the scare part of it, I guess
they've succeeded, so far as everybody is concerned but Captain Rollok
and his officers."
"We are gaining on zee cruiser without a doubt," asserted de Garros,
whose eyes had been fixed on the pursuing sea fighter for some minutes.
"Yes, but look, there comes another," cried Jack, suddenly, pointing
astern. "That must be the one Poffer heard signaling to the _Berwick_."
"We're in for it now," said Bill. "I wish that pig-headed captain would
heave to and let them take the gold and the Germans, if that's all they
are after."
"Hullo!" exclaimed Jack, suddenly, as they all stood waiting nervously
to see the next flash and puff from the cruiser's turret. "I can see a
gleam of hope for us. See what's ahead!"
Ahead of them the sea appeared to be giving off clouds of steam as if it
was boiling. As yet this vapor had not risen high, but it was rapidly
making a curtain above the sunny waters.
"Fog!" cried Bill, delightedly.
"It cannot be too thick for me," said de Garros.
"Perhaps Captain Rollok foresaw this and that was why he refused to
halt," said Jack. "Certainly, if we can gain that mist bank before we
get badly injured, we'll be all right."
It was now a race for the thickening fog curtains. The cruisers appeared
to realize that if the _Kronprinzessin_ could gain the shelter of the
mist, there would be but small chance of their capturing her. Increased
smoke tumbling from their funnels showed that they were under forced
draught. But as their speed increased so did that of the "gold ship."
The gun boomed again on the _Berwick_, the foremost of the pursuers. The
projectile struck the stern of the liner and knocked the elaborate gilt
work wreathing, her name and port, into smithereens.
"Aiming at the rudder," commented Jack. "That's a good idea from their
point of view."
"But a mighty bad one from ours if they succeed in hitting it," said
Raynor, with a rather sickly laugh.
Two more shots, one of them from the second cruiser, flew above the
fugitive liner and then the mist began to settle round her
swiftly-driven hull in soft, cottony wreaths. In five minutes more the
fog had shut in all about her.
Then ensued a game of marine blind-man's buff. Captain Rollok, having
steamed at full speed some miles through the fog,--and this time there
were no protests from passengers,--altered his course and deliberately
steamed in circles.
"Hark!" exclaimed Jack, during one of these manoeuvers. "What was that?"
Out in the fog somewhere they could hear a sound like the soft beating
of a huge heart. It was the throbbing of another vessel's engines. To
the fear of the chase now was added the peril of collision, for in the
fog, dense as it was, the captain would not permit the siren to be
sounded.
It was almost impossible to tell from which direction the sound was
proceeding. It seemed to be everywhere. Was it another peaceful vessel
like themselves, or a man-of-war? Much depended on the answer to this
question.
All at once, with startling distinctness, a huge black bulk loomed up
alongside them. Through the fog they caught a sudden glimpse of crowded
decks and great guns projecting from grim-looking turrets. It was one of
the British cruisers. By grim irony, the fog had delivered them into the
hands of their pursuers.
"Great Scott, it's all off now!" cried Bill, as they simultaneously
sensed the identity of the other craft.