"It would be a pity," reflected the man at the wheel for an instant, "to strike her so." But the thought vanished so soon as it had been formulated. His heart leaped in his breast like the hound when he launches himself in that last spring which hurls him on his quarry. Another moment--a few more seconds-- "That will be our game," whispered Lacy to the artillery captain, in a voice in which his feelings spoke. "Yes." They were slowly approaching nearer. The bearings of the cranks and screws had been well oiled, and the _David_ slipped through the water without a sound. She was so nearly submerged that she scarcely rippled the surface of the sea. There was no white line of foam to betray her movement through the black water. It was almost impossible for any one to detect the approach of the silent terror. There was nothing showing above water except the flat hatch cover, and that to an unpractised eye looked much like a drifting plank. Yet there were sharp eyes on the ship, and no negligent watch was kept either. When the _David_ was perhaps two hundred feet away, she was seen. The steadiness of her movement proclaimed a thing intelligently driven. A sharp, sudden cry from the forecastle ahead of them rang through the night. It was so loud and so fraught with alarm that it came in a muffled note to the men in the depths of the torpedo boat. A bugle call rang out, a drum was beaten. The erstwhile silent ship was filled with tumult and clamor. "They have seen us!" said Lacy. "Ahead!" he cried, hoarsely. "Hard!" At the same instant the chain cable of the vessel was slipped, bells jangled in her depths, the mighty engines clanked into sudden motion, the screws revolved, and she began slowly to drive astern. But it was too late, the sea devil was too near to be balked of the prey. The men at the cranks of the _David_, working with superhuman energy, fairly hurled the torpedo boat upon the doomed ship. Lacy had time for a single upward glance--his last look at anything! The black railing towering above his head was swarming with men. Flashes of light punctured the darkness. Bullets pattered like rain on the iron. One or two tore through the flimsy shell. A jet of water struck him in the face. The next second there was a terrific concussion. The torpedo struck the ship just forward the mainmast and exploded, tearing a great hole in the side, extending far below the water-line. In the blaze of light that followed, the men in the _David_ cheered wildly, and the next moment blackness overwhelmed them. On the frigate there was the wildest confusion as the sleeping men below came swarming up on deck. Some of them never succeeded in reaching the hatchways and were drowned where they slept. Some were killed by the explosion. The officers, however, quickly restored order, and as a last resort ordered the surviving men into the rigging, for the water where she lay was shallow, and there they could find safety.