Ken and his father were both on their feet in an instant. While they had been talking it had turned misty. It was only a haze, but it blurred the horizon so that at first they could not see the vessel.

But presently Ken pointed.

'There she is. Do you see, dad?'

Captain Carrington nodded.

'I see her, Ken, but my eyes are not what they were. I can't tell what she is.'

At this moment Lieutenant Strang stepped up to them.

'It's just as I was afraid, sir,' he said quietly. 'There appears to be something after us. It's so thick I can hardly make out what she is yet, but in any case it's precious awkward.'

'Very awkward indeed,' admitted Captain Carrington. 'Alone, you would be all right, for you could submerge of course, but if so you leave us prisoners to be picked up again. Still, of course, there is no choice. You must not risk your ship.'

Strang bit his lip. He knew that Captain Carrington was right. But it went bitterly against the grain to abandon the people whom he had rescued with so much trouble. As for Ken, the idea of losing his father again just after he had found him sent his spirits down to zero.

After a moment's thought, Strang spoke again. 'I might leave the boat, sir, and tackle this fellow, whoever he is. It's on the cards I might sink him and come back again and pick you up.'

'That might be worth trying,' answered Captain Carrington. And he spoke as calmly as if the upshot was of absolutely no consequence to him whatever.

Ken, who had been staring hard at the approaching craft, turned quickly to the commander.

'Couldn't you capture her, sir?' he said eagerly.

Strang stared as if he thought that Ken had suddenly taken leave of his senses.

'Capture her?' he repeated.

'Yes, sir. Then you could put all the prisoners aboard her, and they could find their own way to the hiding place. And Horan and myself, too, perhaps.'

Strang gave a low whistle.

''Pon my soul, it's an idea. Especially as, being an enemy ship, she wouldn't be so likely to be searched.'

'It would be very nice for us if it could be managed,' said Captain Carrington with a smile. 'But I suppose it is quite out of the question, Mr Strang?'

'It all depends on what she is, sir,' replied Strang, as he put up his binoculars and focused them on the indistinct patch on the misty horizon.

Presently he put them down.

'She's nothing but a launch,' he said quickly. 'Armed, of course, but probably only a 6-pounder. I'm hanged if I don't try it.'

'Very good,' said Captain Carrington, speaking as calmly as ever. 'I will go back into the boat, and tell my friends. By the bye, how would it do to use us as bait for the trap? If you were merely to submerge, and lie close by with only your periscopes showing, it seems to me that you might manage to take them unawares.'

'I've got a better plan than that, sir,' broke in Ken quickly. 'Put Horan and myself in the boat. Give us some pistols. We'll sham shipwrecked. Most of us can hide in the bottom of the boat. The launch won't have much of a crew. With a rush we might overpower them.'

The boldness of Ken's suggestion made both men gasp. Strang was the first to speak.

'It's a big risk, but it might work. Are you willing, Captain Carrington?'

A grim smile parted the lips of Ken's father.

'Willing! It would make me young again.'

Strang's decision was taken like a flash.

'It goes, then. And I'll lend you a couple of my men as well. Williams and Johnston. Hefty chaps in a scrimmage, and both equal to engines of any kind. But we must be smart. This must be done before the Turks get any notion of what is up.'

He dashed back to the conning tower, and orders flew like hail. The men were equally quick to obey. Williams and Johnston came tumbling up, and Roy hard at their heels.

'What's up?' demanded Roy eagerly of Ken, and when Ken had quickly explained, the big New Zealander's face fairly glowed with delight.

'Fine, oh fine!' he cried. 'I began to think we were never going to get another chance. 'It's the greatest scheme you ever thought of, Ken.'

Two more bluejackets rushed up, with armfuls of cutlasses.

'Commander says these are the jokers for a scrimmage,' one told Ken, as they hurriedly passed them across to the people in the boat.

'He's right,' said Roy, 'but we shall want a pistol or two as well.'

'Plenty here, Horan,' said Williams, the torpedo coxswain, holding up a couple of the big regulation Navy revolvers. 'It's all right. We've got all we want. Come along in, you two soldiers.'

Ken and Roy tumbled aboard the boat, other three of the ex-prisoners, who were too old or infirm to be any use as fighters, were hastily transferred to the submarine.

Inside of three minutes all was ready, the warp was cast off, and the steel hatch in the conning tower dropped with a clang. In a trice G2 began to sink, and within an incredibly short space of time she had dipped out of sight beneath the sea, and the boat lay alone on the surface, rocking slightly to the send of the small gray waves.

For the first time Ken had leisure to glance round at his companions. Including Roy, himself, Williams, and Johnston, the full number was twenty-three, and of them all there was not one who did not look keen and eager for the fray. All had suffered at the hands of the enemy, some had lost all they had in the world. Every man was anxious to get a little of his own back. By the way they gripped the cutlasses that had been served out, by their grim faces, and eager eyes, Ken felt certain that there would be no hesitation when the critical moment arrived.

'What is the craft?' asked Roy, who was crowding close beside him.

'Nothing but a launch,' Ken answered.

'She looks pretty big for a launch,' said Roy, staring at the vessel which was now near enough to see the shape of her.

'Oh, I dare say she's a fifty-footer. And no doubt she carries a good few men. And a gun, too. It's not going to be any picnic, old chap. Our only chance is a surprise.'

'And there won't be much surprise about it, if we let them see how many men we have aboard,' cut in Captain Carrington briskly. The years had dropped away from him, and he was again the naval officer.

'Get down, Ken, and you too, Horan. Williams and Johnston, hide yourselves under that tarpaulin forward.'

Very shortly all the younger men of the party were stowed away, some under the thwarts, others under a couple of tarpaulins which Strang had put in for the purpose. All weapons were carefully hidden, and the dozen older men, who were all that were left in sight, were directed to loll about, as though suffering from long exposure or fatigue.

The haze was thickening, so there was little danger of the people aboard the launch noticing the manoeuvre.

The launch had, however, sighted the boat. There was no doubt about that, for she had altered her course, and was coming straight towards them.

'Beastly fuggy under here!' growled Roy in Ken's ear.

'Take it easy, old chap. We shan't have long to wait.'

Ken's father heard, and bent down.

'She's within a mile. Mind you don't move till I give the word.'

'All right, dad,' came the muffled response from under the tarpaulin. 'How big is she?'

'A good size. She looks as if she carried a score of men. And there's a 6-pounder in her bows.'

Soon she was so near that Ken clearly heard the beat of her engine. His breath came quick and short. The critical moment was very near.

The revolutions slackened, and a man hailed from the launch, speaking, to Ken's dismay, in harsh German.

'Who are you? What are you doing there?' the speaker demanded suspiciously.

'We are British and French from Constantinople,' answered Captain Carrington, using the same language. 'We were aboard the Turkish transport "Bergaz" which was sunk earlier in the day by a British submarine.'

'Blitzen!' exclaimed the German angrily. 'Then the message was true after all. Those verdomde British have managed to pass the mine-fields.

'And where is the submarine?' he demanded savagely.

'She was forced to abandon us. One of your warships hove in sight.'

The German paused a moment. His eyes scanned the surface in every direction. But there was no sign of G 2's periscopes. Either she had gone under altogether, or withdrawn to such a distance that her periscopes were invisible in the mist.

'Train the gun on them,' growled the German officer. Then, raising his voice, 'If this is a trap, every one of you will pay for it with your lives.'

'I have told you the literal truth,' said Captain Carrington coldly. 'You can take us or leave us as you wish.'

Again the German hesitated.

'The safest way will be to haul off and sink them,' he said to a Turk who stood beside him. He spoke in Turkish, but Ken, of course, understood, and knowing the brutality of the average German officer, felt anything but happy.

Apparently the Turkish officer had different views, for after a short conversation the German gave an order, and the launch moved forward again.

Ken, though he could not see what was happening, heard the beat of her screw, and every nerve in his body tingled. As for Captain Carrington and the rest, they sat in their places, not moving an inch, and doing their best to convey the idea that they were quite worn out, and cared not at all whether they were retaken or not.

Yet, under his coat, or in his pocket, each man gripped his revolver, while his cutlass lay handy at his feet.

The launch came on slowly, and her crew fortunately were hardly noticing the boat. Their eyes were busy, searching the misty surface for the periscope of their deadly enemy.

Only the German seemed to have any suspicion concerning those in the boat. When the launch was within about half a dozen yards, he spoke again.

'You there, Englishman, stand up!' he ordered sharply. 'You, I mean, the one who speaks German.'

Captain Carrington rose leisurely to his feet.

'You will be the first to pay for treachery,' said the German fiercely. 'Put your hands up.'

Ken quivered. To him it sounded as though his father's death warrant had been sounded. At the first sign of attack the German would shoot him. Yet he had his orders, and he dared not move.

It seemed an age before he felt a slight jar. It was the launch touching the boat.

'What's under that tarpaulin?' came the sharp question from the German.

Crack! Crack! Two shots rang out simultaneously. There was a scream and the sound of a heavy splash.

Ken waited no longer. Like a flash he flung aside the tarpaulin, and leaped to his feet. The German was gone, he was struggling in the water and one of their own men was lying writhing in the bottom of the boat.

'Up and at 'em!' came a hurricane yell from Williams, and with one bound the big coxswain had leaped aboard the launch, and was laying about him with his cutlass.

Ken waited just long enough to make sure that his father was not hurt, then followed.

He heard the Turkish officer shout an order for full steam ahead. The launch darted forward, but it was too late. Johnston and another man detailed for the purpose had already flung grappling irons across. The launch drew the boat with her, close alongside.

'Out, ye black-faced blighter!' roared Williams, as he cut down a great burly Turk who was swinging at him with a rifle butt.

Inside ten seconds every mother's son in the boat had reached the deck of the launch, and a regular hand-to-hand battle raged.

The launch was heavily manned, and after their first surprise the Turks pulled themselves together and fought desperately. Though the launch was a big one, yet there was not much room on her decks for nearly fifty fighting men, and Ken found himself literally wedged in the centre of a tight-packed mob, which swayed from side to side as the fighters struggled frantically for elbow room.

In a way this told in favour of the Britishers. The short, heavy Navy cutlasses were much better adapted for a mÊlÉe of this sort than the rifles and bayonets with which the Turks were armed.

Ken found himself up against a tall, brown-faced fellow who looked like an Arab and was armed with a long sword. He made a fearful slash at Ken, and though Ken saved his head by a guard with his cutlass, he was beaten to his knees.

Up went the Arab's sword again, Ken saw the glitter in his savage eyes, and thought it was all over when, in the very nick of time, a revolver spat and turned the fierce face into a blood-stained horror.

Struggling up, he saw Roy leap past and fire a second time at a man who was swinging at him with a rifle butt. The latter, hit in the shoulder, staggered, caught his heels in the rail, and went backwards into the sea.

On every side revolvers were cracking, there was a confused medley of blows, yells, and oaths. And all the time the launch, with no one at the tiller, and the boat fast alongside, charged wildly across the sea.

Man for man, the Turks were better fighters than the boarders, most of whom were civilians and unaccustomed to the use of weapons. But the latter were fighting for their lives and were splendidly led by Captain Carrington, Ken, Roy, and the two big sailor men. It was really the latter five who carried the day. They were everywhere at once, slashing and shooting like demons, and by degrees the Turks fell back before them.

Half a dozen or more were driven over the side into the sea, and left perforce to drown.

At last the Turks broke and gave way. Some dropped their weapons and flung up their hands in token of surrender.

'They've surrendered!' cried Captain Carrington. 'Give them quarter.'

At that moment Ken saw a Turkish officer, his face covered with blood, spring out of the crowd aft and rush forward.

'Look out there!' he shouted, and wrenching himself loose from the press, raced after the man.

The officer, however, had a long start, and before Ken could catch him, had reached the gun and was swinging it round.

'Look out!' yelled Ken again, as he realised what the man was after. He was desperate, and meant to turn the gun full upon the packed crowd, destroying friend and foe alike.

He had got the gun round, his finger was almost on the button when Ken reached him, and going at him head down, like a Rugby tackier, flung both arms around his waist.