"I say, you two!" he shouted. "There's a craft coming--from the
south-west. Come up! There!" he added, a few minutes later, when they
arrived, breathless, at his side. "Out yonder--a mere black blot--but
unmistakable! Do you know what that is, either of you? You don't? All
right, I do--ought to, because I'm a R.N.V.R. man myself. That's a
T.B.D., my friends!--torpedo-boat destroyer. What's more, far off as she
is, my experienced eye and sure knowledge tell me exactly what she is.
She's a class H. boat built last year--oil fuel--turbines--runs up to
thirty knots--and she's doing 'em, too, just now! Come on,
Copplestone--more stuff on this fire!"
"I don't think we need be uneasy," said Copplestone. "Miss Greyle thinks
that her mother will have raised a hue and cry after the _Pike_. This
torpedo thing is probably looking round for us. She--what's that?"
The sudden sharp crack of a gun came across the calm surface of the sea,
and the watchers turning from their fire towards the black object in the
distance saw a cloud of white smoke drifting away from it.
"Hooray!" shouted Vickers. "She's seen our smoke-pillar! Shove more on,
just to let her know we understand. Saved!--this time, anyway."
Half-an-hour later, a spick and span and eminently youthful-looking naval
lieutenant raised his cap to the three folk who stood eagerly awaiting
his approach at the edge of the surf.
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