She dashed westwards, and in two minutes sighted the U-boat again, a mile away on the port quarter. A new ramming attack was immediately planned, and the guns were ordered to open fire; but the submarine dived completely before they could pick her up in the uncertain light. In ten seconds Lieutenant Murray had brought P. 51 over a patch of oil which betrayed the spot where the U-boat was submerging. Three depth-charges followed her down. The first two produced the usual upheaval of water, but the third blew a quantity of wreckage into the air, of many shapes and sizes. P. 51 continued to circle around, and ten minutes later three shocks were felt below in rapid succession. Nothing more was seen, nor could any movement be heard on the hydrophone. The official verdict was one of ‘Probably sunk,’ the evidence being considered good but inconclusive. It was, however, afterwards supplemented by final proof, and the case was re-marked ‘Known.’ Lieutenant Murray accordingly received the D.S.C. and two of his men the D.S.M. Very little information has been given to the public about the Yacht Patrol; but it is certain that, when all is known, the history of this service will be eagerly read. There is a fine Elizabethan air about the gift of a ship to the Navy by a private owner, and we can imagine how keenly the giver would follow the career of his own boat, longing to command her himself, and glorying to catch her name now and then through the gales and rumours and gunfire of the seas, where she is at last flying the white ensign. Such a gift was the _Prize_, who with the heroic Sanders, her Commander, lies fathoms deep, and still unknown to many; but in time to come she will be remembered with _Farnborough_, _Pargust_ and _Dunraven_, and her owner’s name will stand in a unique and honourable list. Among the victories of the Yacht Patrol, one of the most timely and decisive was that of May 26, 1918. H.M. Yacht 024, _Lorna_, Lieutenant C. L. Tottenham, R.N.R., was on patrol that day in Lyme Bay, intercepting east-bound traffic, and keeping an eye at the same time on the activities of a U-boat off Portland Bill, whom she intended to deal with when opportunity should offer. Soon after 8.0 in the evening, she spoke two ships in succession, the _Jabiru_ and _War Cross_, and ordered them both into Weymouth Bay, warning them at the same time of the enemy submarine. At 8.50 P.M. a lamentable signal came back by wireless--‘S.O.S., S.S.S.S., 2 miles S.W. of Portland Bill, ss. _Jabiru_, torpedoed.’