Instinctively Jack thrust the tiller hard over; the yacht, responding slowly to the helm, commenced to describe a wide curve; but in less than ten seconds from the time of the hail a ponderous monster of grey-coloured steel loomed out of the fog, its upper portion lost to view in the mist. _Crash!_ Although doing a bare five knots the sharp steel bow of the huge vessel caught the _Playmate_ fairly on the port side amidships. The stout planks were shorn through as if made of match-board, the mast snapped off close to the deck, and, as the stick with its spread of canvas fell over the side the water poured in a cataract over the lee-coaming, and through the huge rent in the side of the doomed yacht. [Illustration: chapter IV] CHAPTER IV A PRISONER ON THE MYSTERIOUS SHIP AT the moment of impact Gerald strove to ward off the oncoming vessel with the unwieldy oar, but the blade found no holding-place against the wet, heaving bows of the leviathan of destruction. Then, with the carrying away of the mast, a block hurtling through the air struck him a terrific blow over the head. Thousands of white lights flashed across his vision as he found himself lying in the already flooded cockpit; yet in his state of partial insensibility he was dimly aware that Jack had seized him round the waist. With a powerful heave Stockton literally threw his friend into the dinghy, which had meanwhile floated alongside the yacht. Then, springing into the little cockleshell, he whipped out his knife, and with a swift sweep severed the painter. Not a moment too soon. The colliding vessel had already stopped, and was gathering sternway. The withdrawal of the sharp, wedge-shaped bows from the shattered yacht caused the water to pour in with redoubled violence, and in a smother of bubbles and foam the _Playmate_ plunged downwards to her last resting-place. Jack Stockton seized the oars, which fortunately had been left in the dinghy, and rowed desperately towards the craft that had been the cause of the disaster. Already she was a mere blur in the fog; once lost sight of, the position of the two occupants of the dinghy, adrift in mid-Channel without food or water, would be perilous in the extreme. Beyond the first hail perfect silence had been maintained on board the huge grey vessel. As Jack gradually gained on her--for the engines had apparently been reversed only for a few revolutions--a rope was flung dexterously over his head. This he made fast to the dinghy's bow-ring, and in absolute silence another coil descended from the lofty fo'c'sle. Deftly Jack passed a bight round his friend's body just below the arms, and like a sack of flour Gerald was hoisted upwards. This much Tregarthen remembered, though but dimly, and on gaining the deck he lost consciousness. When the young sub-lieutenant opened his eyes he found himself lying in the uppermost of two bunks in a small yet conveniently arranged cabin. "Where the dickens am I?" he murmured, drowsily.