Followed instantly an explosion so terrific that Ken distinctly felt the deck of the trawler lift under his feet.  A cloud of thick black smoke shot high into the air, and as it rose a very waterspout descended upon the little ship.

Roy and Ken staggered back, half deafened by the appalling concussion.

‘Got that one, anyway,’ they heard Grimball exclaim, as he dashed back to the bridge and rang the engine bell for full steam.  ’Got him all right.  Next question is whether the blighters will get us.’

Both trawlers seemed actuated by the same impulse.  Both at the same time surged ahead, while the sweeping cable was either cut or cast loose.

But the searchlight’s brilliant beam followed relentlessly, and as the two smart little craft cleared from the area of the black smoke cloud, there came the ringing report of a 6-inch gun followed by the familiar whirr of a heavy shell.

‘Rotten shot!’ snapped Grimball, as the shell, sailing well over the mast top, plunged into the sea two hundred yards or more beyond.

‘Hard aport!’ he shouted, and the ‘Maid’ came spinning round almost as smartly as a sailing dinghy.  Next minute she and her consort were legging it southwards at the very top of their speed.

For a moment they were clear of the dazzling radiance of the searchlight, but only for a moment.  Then the long pencil of glaring whiteness found them again, and now the guns began to bark in earnest.

The ‘Maid’ seemed to know her peril.  She squattered down into the water, and the foaming wake lengthened, trailing far behind her.  Forgetful of their own danger, Roy and Ken watched breathless while the trawlers ran the gauntlet of the forts.

A shell struck the water right under the bows of the ‘Maid,’ flinging up a fountain which rose as high as the mainmast, and deluging the decks for a second time.

‘Mighty wet job this,’ said Roy, shaking himself like a great dog.  ’Rotten luck we can’t shoot back, eh, Ken?’

‘Can’t even do much running,’ said Ken.  ’Twelve knots is about our top speed.  ‘Pon my soul, these chaps have got pluck.’

‘The “Swan’s” drawing ahead,’ said Roy.

Almost as the words left his lips there came a shattering crash and a sheet of flame leapt up from the other trawler.  A shell had pitched full upon her armoured wheel-house, and exploding had not only blown it away, with the steersman, but opened up the whole deck.  The poor little trawler, with her steering gear smashed, swung round to starboard, and it was only by the smartest seamanship that the ‘Maid’ avoided running her down.

‘She’s done,’ said Roy, as he ran forward.  ‘She’s sinking!’

He was right.  The big shell had knocked her all to pieces.  Grimball saw this too, and in response to his rapid order, the ‘Maid’s’ engines stopped, and four stalwart fellows ran to the dinghy which lay in chocks on her deck.