Machine-gun bullets sang through the air like the hum of a thousand angry bees. Men, crowded on the M.-L.'s deck, were hit over and over again. Of her own crew, the First Lieutenant and one of the deck hands were killed instantly, while the coxswain was badly wounded. Although three times hit, Lieutenant Drummond, M.-L. 254's skipper, stuck gamely to his post, cleared the entrance, ordered full speed ahead, and made for the open sea. Into the merciful fog ran the little M.-L. Enveloped in mist, her human cargo was practically safe from fire, but another danger confronted the band of heroes. The severe gruelling to which M.-L. 254 had been subjected had resulted, amongst other injuries, in the forepart being badly hulled 'twixt wind and water. In spite of every effort to stop the leaks, the M.-L. was settling by the bows. Speed was promptly reduced in the hope that the inrush of water might be checked. At the same time sound-signals were made in order to get in touch with the off-shore destroyers. For nearly half an hour M.-L. 254 crawled along at slow speed without aid being forthcoming. It seemed as if her deck cargo of human beings--nearly all of them wounded--would soon be struggling for dear life in the numbing water, for the metal dinghy was hopelessly damaged and practically all the life-saving devices had been either swept overboard or destroyed by shell-fire. Following the gallant and brilliant blocking operations, the threatened fate seemed doubly hard, yet with the heroic fortitude of their race the survivors made light of their difficulties, even laying odds on the chances of being picked up and cutting grim jokes upon the situation. They had faith that even in the fog and darkness the patrols would bear down in time to effect their rescue. By this time the relative conditions of Seton and Branscombe were reversed. In spite of a slight wound from a shell splinter, Alec had practically recovered from his shaking. Although feeling stiff and bruised, he had regained the use of his limbs; while the wound, received as he lay upon the M.-L.'s deck, was little more than a skin-deep gash on his left cheek. On the other hand, Branscombe, whose injury was more serious than he cared to admit, was feeling horribly weak from loss of blood. At last he had to give in and allow his chum to attend to his injuries. With a knowledge of first aid--although hampered by the darkness--Alec cut away his chum's jumper. Just below the lowermost rib on the right side was a small puncture-wound, through which dark blood was welling sullenly. It was not enough to cause weakness unless the wound were bleeding internally. Very tenderly Seton turned his patient over on his side, and made the discovery that the machine-gun bullet had passed completely through, leaving a rather ugly wound where it had emerged.