"We fired many a round, only you know nothing about it," announced Osborne. "We were quite hotly engaged----"
"What's that noise I hear?" interrupted the injured officer, as a grinding, rasping sound penetrated into the cabin.
"Oh, that? Nothing much," replied Osborne modestly. "We've a prize lashed alongside--a Turkish torpedo-boat. She got in our way after the boats had cast off, and we winged her. Later on we fell in with her again, and finding her abandoned but seaworthy, we took possession of her. So you see, Tom, it hasn't been altogether a fruitless expedition. We've lost the pulling cutter and the whaler, and collared a torpedo-boat in exchange."
"Good business!" exclaimed Webb. "I'd like to cheer, Osborne, only my throat's burning; and I can't grin my appreciation; the bump on my head has stretched my cheeks so tightly that if I did I really believe I'd crack the skin. You know----"
"Destroyer bearing down on the starboard bow, sir," reported Haynes in his best professional manner.
Osborne hurried from the cabin. Feeble though the lamplight was, it was sufficient to dazzle his eyes and render him incapable of seeing anything distinctly.
"Bring a signalling lamp with you," he ordered, at the same time making a leap for the torpedo-boat's deck.
Out of the darkness flashed the destroyer's search-light full upon the prize. It was a nerve-racking ordeal, for the oncoming craft, recognizing the torpedo-boat as a Turkish vessel, would perhaps start blazing away without further ado.
Promptly the steamboat's signalman made her private number. The destroyer acknowledged, and the danger was at an end. Circling and easing down, the British war-ship approached within hailing distance.
"_Portchester Castle's_ steamboat and prize, eh?" shouted her Lieutenant-commander. "You're lucky to have collared their torpedo-boat. We've been on the look-out for her the last week. Can we render any assistance?"
Osborne considered. It was still a long way back to the _Portchester Castle_. Already the wind was rising, and the sea, hitherto calm, promised to become at least choppy before very long.
"Will you relieve us of our prize?" he asked.
"Certainly," was the reply. "We'll tow her into Lemnos."