In view of the suddenness of the attack, coming from a totally unexpected quarter, it would not have been surprising had the _Complex_ unmasked her guns and thus revealed her identity.
But nothing of the sort happened. Not a man of the concealed crew started to his feet. Discipline--perfect order--prevailed; all on board, with the exception of three victims of the explosion who had already "slipped their cables", remaining alert, awaiting their Captain's orders.
Undoubtedly, it was a complex situation, and one for which no adequate provision had been made.
Cavendish, now that the explosion had taken place, was wondering what he ought to do. Should he order away the panic-party? If he did, they would be obliged, for appearance's sake, to make for the _Holton Heath_. But was she what she purported to be? Or was she acting in consort with the still unseen submarine?
"If," reasoned the Sub, "if she's a British merchantman, why did the submarine waste a torpedo on us when she had an easy victim of about three times our tonnage?"
[Illustration: THE "PANIC PARTY" (missing from book)]
Similar thoughts were flashing across the mind of the imperturbable Captain Meredith.
"Order away the panic party, officer of the watch," he shouted per voice-tube. For the present he would ignore the submarine and keep the _Holton Heath_ under observation, he decided.
The latter vessel had swung round slightly, so that her starboard beam was exposed to the sinking _Complex_. On the bridge of the former, her captain was bellowing incoherent cries. A few hands were preparing to lower the quarter-boats.
Cavendish gave the order verbally. It would not do to trust to the prearranged system of gongs.
Instantly, there was a well-simulated panic-stricken rush for the _Complex's_ boats, men falling over each other in their efforts to swing clear and lower away. Carrying out the lesson learnt at their rehearsals, they let one of the boats down by the head, staving in her gunwale against the listing side of the ship.
Suddenly, the supposed disabled _Holton Heath_ underwent a transformation. Portions of her bulwarks dropped, revealing the muzzles of half a dozen quick-firers. Simultaneously, swarms of men appeared on deck to gloat over the anticipated spectacle, while several machine-guns were being placed in position with a view to mowing down the survivors of the helpless and foundering British ship.