Somehow there was still a shock of surprise as the sea boiled in a great cauldron no more than fifty yards away andL’Alouette broke through to the surface. Even as the water still spilled from her plates Jacaud appeared in the conning tower. A rating came up beside him and they started to mount the heavy machine-gun on its firing-pin.
Guyon stood in the doorway, the revolver ready in his right hand. “Now what?”
“I think that’s obvious,” Mallory said flatly. “If I’m going to go I’m taking him with me. It’s been nice knowing you.”
“And you,mon colonel.” Raoul Guyon drew himself together as if on parade. “An honour, sir.”
He moved along the deck to the prow and Mallory swung the wheel and broughtFleur de Lys into the wind. A moment later and she was bearing down onL’Alouette.
Jacaud started to fire, bullets hammering into the prow, and Mallory braced himself, hands firm on the wheel. Guyon lay flat on the deck, one arm around a stanchion, waiting for the moment of impact. There were two rounds left in the revolver and he was praying that at the last he might have the chance of putting them both into Jacaud.
In the conning tower ofL’Alouette Jacaud still fired the machine-gun, raising it slightly, aiming for Mallory in the wheelhouse. Fenelon appeared beside him, his face white and terrified, mouth open in a soundless scream.
Mallory was aware of all these things, of the bullets ham-mering into the wheelhouse as he ducked out of sight and thenFleur de Lys was lifted high on a swell. She seemed to poise there for a moment, then slid down the other side intoL’Alouette, her prow grinding against the side of the conn-ing tower where it joined the hull.
There was a terrible crash, a groan of tortured metal as the bow crunched into the plates, cutting through the ballast tanks, crushing the pressure hull.L’Alouette heeled, the conning tower leaning over, spilling the machine-gun into the water, and Jacaud and Fenelon hung on desperately.
Guyon was on his feet, leaning over the rail. As he took aim and firedFleur de Lys lurched to one side and he went head first into the sea.
Fleur de Lyskept on moving, her steel hull sliding over the submarine, pushing it down into the water. Suddenly she was across, her prow plunging into a wave. Mallory got to his feet, grabbed the wheel and struggled to bring her round.
Incredibly, she answered, and lifted sluggishly over the swell, her engines still beating. He turned and looked out through the shattered windows at the submarine.
She had righted herself now, but the sea was breaking over her hull in sinister fashion. The forward hatch opened and several sailors emerged. Jacaud came down the outside ladder to join them.
They were pointing at something in the sea and Mallory saw Raoul Guyon, a swell lifting him up and carrying him in towards the submarine. As he was washed across the grey hull they pounced on him.
There was nothing Mallory could do and he kept ongoing, passing into the fog. When he glanced back five minutes laterL’Alouette was lost to view.
Gradually the engines lost power and progress became slower. The fog was very patchy, blown by a strengthening wind, and in the distance he could see lie de Roc low on the horizon. The engines stopped altogether, five minutes later, with a hiss of steam.
He went down into the flooded saloon, found the bottle of Gourvoisier and went back on deck. The fog had cleared even more now, but the wind was cold and the waves were lifting again.
He unshipped the dinghy and waited until the green waters started to slop across the deck, then he slid it over the stern and climbed in. He rowed away, paused and watchedFleur de Lys slide under the surface.
The water boiled for a little while, then calmed into a great white patch of froth, a coil of rope, a box and one or two loose spars floating in the centre. It was always a sad-dening sight, the loss of a good ship. He inflated his life-jacket, raised the bottle of Gourvoisier to his lips and started to row.