Presently, finding the pace too hot, the Hon. Derek gave orders for speed to be reduced to five knots. The returning raider had played her part as far as R19 was concerned, and, as a reward--although Stockdale would have willed it otherwise--she was rapidly drawing out of torpedo range. Even if the submarine dared to risk letting fly a couple of torpedoes, the possibility of hitting a vessel stern-on was rather remote, while the presence of a hostile craft inside their mine-field would at once be revealed to the German patrol-boats. A faint rasping metallic sound caused both officers to look up from their respective tasks. It was the unmistakable noise of meshed wire grating along the submarine's side. Then, with a decided jerk, the vessel's way was checked. Under the impulse of her propellers she tilted nose downwards, the while the disconcerting sound of the flexible wire grinding against her was growing more and more in volume. The artificer in charge of the motors acted promptly on the order to declutch and then reverse. Before her propellers had made a dozen revolutions the port-hand one, entangled in a remorselessly-tightening obstacle, slowed down, and then stopped dead. R19 was firmly held in the meshes of an anti-submarine net. CHAPTER XII "Away Diving-party!" Lieutenant-Commander Stockdale descended the ladder from the conning-tower and gained the 'midship compartment of the submarine. Outwardly he appeared cool and collected. If the intense gravity of the situation assailed him, he kept his emotions to himself. "A nice old jamboree, Macquare!" he exclaimed. "It's the port propeller getting fouled that's the trouble." "It is, sir," agreed the Lieutenant. "The consequences of halloing before we're out of the wood," added Stockdale. "I'm going to blow the ballast-tanks. We must risk it, although it's pretty well a dead cert that the Huns have calcium-light alarms in connection with this infernal net. We'll be in a fine old mess if we do break surface in the full glare of a dozen search-lights and hampered with a ton of wire netting over everything." R19 had been too premature. When the raider and her attendants had increased speed they were clear of the mine-field, but not of the maze of steel netting, which, supported so that the upper edge was at a sufficient depth below the surface to enable them to pass without hindrance, was a dangerous trap to submarine craft. "Why not fill all ballast-tanks, and see if we can sink clear?" suggested Macquare. The Lieutenant-Commander shook his head. "We would only get in a worse mess," he objected, "and as likely as not foul the starboard propeller into the bargain." "It's not much use standing by and waiting for the Huns to strafe us with distance charges," remarked Macquare doggedly. He was beginning to roll his R's again. "If you have no objection, sir, I'll call for volunteers, and see what it's like outside." "That's my job, I think," said Fordyce quietly.