Wearing their life-belts, the survivors mustered abaft the wheel-house, for Branscombe had given orders for the engineers to abandon the motor-room and fall-in on deck. The wounded and unconscious officer, and two of the deck hands, who were rather badly hit, were laid on deck, and also provided with life-buoys, their comrades volunteering to "stand by" them in the water until the last. Facing peril, the indomitable British spirit prevailed. Every man of the little crew, save those who were unconscious of their surroundings, kept a stiff upper lip. While making every endeavour to save themselves they were resolved, should things come to the worst, to die bravely, conscious that they had done their duty to the end. The M.-L.'s bows rose until her forefoot was clear of the water; her stern dipped until a surge of icy water swept for'ard as far as the wheel-house. It seemed as if she no longer had sufficient buoyancy to shake herself clear. Cascades of water poured through the hatchways and the gaping rents in her decks. "She's going, lads!" shouted Branscombe, stating what was an obvious fact. The incongruity of the remark struck him almost as soon as he had spoken. Then--"Every man for himself, and the best of luck." Even as they waited for the ship to sink beneath them, a long, dark shape loomed through the darkness. Coming seemingly from nowhere, a destroyer ranged up alongside the sinking M.-L. "Jump for it, men," shouted a voice through a megaphone. Under the lee of the destroyer, the M.-L., half water-logged lay comparatively quietly, rubbing sullenly against the large coir fenders hanging over the side of the rescuing vessel. The wounded were first transferred, then the rest of the crew, Seton and Branscombe being the last to leave. The latter was not empty-handed; under his arm he carried the M.-L.'s smoke-discoloured and tattered White Ensign. The signal code-book he had thrown overboard when it seemed that hope was dead. Even as Branscombe clambered over the rail M.-L. 4452 gave an almost human shudder and slithered beneath the waves. CHAPTER XVI The Return from Zeebrugge The destroyer's work that night was not yet accomplished. While the rescued crew of M.-L. 4452 were hospitably entertained and provided with hot food and drink and dry clothing, she resumed her patrol off the Belgian coast. With others the destroyer was on the look-out for possible survivors, amongst them the crew of the cutter for which Farnborough was searching when entering Zeebrugge Harbour. It appeared that the M.-L. that had rescued the crew of one of the block-ships had the cutter in tow. In the latter were five or six men who for some inexplicable reason were not transferred to the M.-L.'s deck. They might have thought that remaining on the boat was safer than crowding on the M.-L.'s already congested deck. At all events the men stopped where they were, the cutter was taken in tow and the dash out of the harbour begun.