‘Poor luck, Ken,’ said the latter with his usual calmness.  ’The beggar’s gaining hand over fist.  She’s at least five knots faster than we.’

’Well, we’ve hurt the Turks a jolly sight worse than they can hurt us, that’s one comfort, dad,’ Ken replied.  ’They can’t replace that ammunition.’

Before his father could answer, a shell from the destroyer passed so close overhead that the wind of it flung them both down.  There was a splintering crash, and the launch quivered all over.

‘Hurt, father?’ cried Ken, springing up.

‘Not a bit, thanks.  But I’m afraid the launch is.’

’She’s still moving anyhow.  No, it’s only carried away a bit of the cabin top.  We’re all right still.’

The searchlight grew clearer every moment.  Already the hull of the flying launch began to show up in the misty radiance.  Her steersman sent her shooting in wide curves, and so succeeded in upsetting the aim of the Turkish gunners.  But it was only putting off the inevitable end, and that was clear to every soul aboard.

[Illustration:  ‘The deck-house melted in a shower of splinters.’]

‘It’s no use, dad,’ said Ken, as another shell cut away the top of the stumpy funnel.  We can’t get away.  Let’s finish, fighting.’

‘Turn and try to ram her?’

’Yes, and Dimmock might by luck get a shell into her.  He’s a pretty nippy shot in spite of being out of practice.’

‘All right, Ken.  I’d rather die fighting than running.’

He raised his voice.

’Mr Morgan, put her hard aport!  Dimmock, here’s your chance for a last shot.’

Round came the launch, turning on her keel like a racing yacht, and straight she sped for her big pursuer.  The latter was evidently taken aback by this unexpected manoeuvre, and for a moment her searchlight lost the launch.

The moment the glare was gone the hull of the destroyer showed up dark against the mist.

‘Now’s your chance, Dimmock!’ cried Ken, and almost instantly the little gun spoke, and the crash was followed by a flash which lit the destroyer’s deck.

‘Oh, good shot, Dimmock!’ exclaimed the captain.  ’That shell exploded right under her bridge.

For a moment the destroyer yawed right off her course, but she was under control again in a few seconds, and her forward gun spoke once more.

The flash was followed by a tremendous shock, and the launch, with her rudder and part of her stern carried away, spun round helplessly, and began to drift downstream.

‘That’s finished it,’ groaned Roy.

Again the destroyer’s gun roared, and the deckhouse melted in a shower of splinters.  Ken, struck on the leg by one of them, toppled over helplessly.  His leg felt numb, he could not move.  There was nothing for it now but to await the inevitable end.

Crash!  Vaguely Ken realised that this was a heavier gun than the 12-pounders of the destroyer.  He heard a shell roar overhead, then from the destroyer, now no more than a hundred yards away, rose a blinding flash.