"Time!" he exclaimed decisively, in the tone of a referee at a boxing tournament. "Full speed ahead." The engine-room telegraph-bell clanged. Black smoke tinged with lurid red flames belched from the four squat funnels, and, like a hound released from leash, the _Calder_ raced on her perilous mission, her whole fabric quivering under the rapid pulsations of her engines. The _Calder_ was not one of the latest type of destroyers. Her tonnage was a little over 550, her speed supposed to be 24 knots, but by dint of terrific exertion on the part of her "black squad" that rate was considerably exceeded. Almost everything depended on her pace. She had to draw the fire from the hostile batteries. If she were hit and sunk the British navy would be the poorer by the loss of a useful destroyer and a crew of seventy gallant men--and nothing would be gained except the glory of having died for their country. If on the other hand the _Calder_ returned in safety, the British Admiral would be in possession of important information with reference to the position of new batteries that the Turks had thrown up to supplement those which were already known to be in existence. Moreover, there had been a report that The Narrows had been obstructed by a boom in addition to rows of mines, and a verification of the information or otherwise was urgently required before further extensive operations could be conducted. On and on the _Calder_ tore. Now she was abreast of the powerful batteries of Tekeh and Escali. Almost ahead, owing to the sinuosity of The Narrows, lay the huge fortress of Chanak. Each of these positions mounted guns heavy enough to blow the frail destroyer clean out of the water, while there was known to be rows of deadly mines which might be anchored sufficiently far beneath the surface to allow a craft of the _Calder's_ draught to pass unscathed--but they might not. It was facing death at every revolution of the propellers. Yet for some unknown reason the Turks made no attempt to open fire. It might be that they relied upon their mines, and were loath to disclose their positions by opening fire upon an insignificant destroyer. If such were the case, it showed that the Ottoman had learned a new virtue--forbearance under provocation. It was useless to suppose that the enemy had not spotted the swiftly-moving destroyer. The flame-tinged smoke was enough. Besides, she had already crossed the path of three powerful fixed search-lights that swept the entire width of the Dardanelles. "The beggars are going to spoof us," remarked the Naval Reserve officer to Dick. "We'll have our run for nothing. I wish they'd do something."