Like a frightened hare the launch gathered speed and darted away
downstream. Shells, each big enough to smash her to kindling, fell on
every side, but the gunners on both sides were firing too high, and by a
series of miracles the launch was not touched.
Searchlights sprang out, their white fingers feeling through the murk. But
no searchlight ever made will penetrate a thousand yards of fog, and the
dull glares only served to warn the steersman of the launch of dangers to
be avoided.
'Jove, we'll do it yet, Ken,' cried Roy, shouting so as to be heard above
the thunderous din of the guns.
'It will be a miracle if we do,' Ken answered. 'Remember we have to run
the gauntlet all the way down.'
'It doesn't follow,' Roy said quickly. 'They haven't seen us, and they'll
take it for granted that it must have been a submarine. Why, even the
sweepers haven't ventured up here.'
'I only hope you're right,' replied Ken fervently.
'Ah!' he broke off, as a shell whizzed over so near they felt the wind of
it.
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