'
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.
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