"Let's go," said Commander Bastedo. "Perhaps he's after a submarine." _No. 215_ was immediately turned in the direction of the busy _No. 129_, when the interest of its officers was aroused by a little foamy fountain of spray moving in the water slightly forward of its port beam. There was no mystery as to the cause of that feathery disturbance. It was made by a periscope; it was moving with considerable speed also, entirely ignoring the subchasers, and shaping its course directly toward the advancing British cruisers. Commander Bastedo forgot all about subchaser _No. 129_, which apparently was after game of its own, and headed his own boat in the direction of this little column of spray. In a few seconds the periscope itself became visible; Commander Bastedo opened fire at it with his port gun; at the second shot a column of water and air arose about six feet--a splendid geyser which informed the pursuer that the periscope had been shattered. By this time the third chaser, _No. 128_, was rushing at full speed. The submarine now saw that all chance of attacking the British ships had gone, and turned to the south in an effort to get away with a whole skin. But the two subchasers, _215_ and _128_, quickly turned again and started for their prey; soon both were dropping depth charges and shooting their "Y" guns; and a huge circle of the sea was a mass of explosions, whirling water, mighty eruptions of foam, mist, and débris--and in the mass, steel plates and other wreckage flew from the depths into the air. "That got him!" cried the executive officer from the deck of _No. 215_, while the crew lifted up its voices in a shout that was reminiscent of a college yell. It was not until this moment that Commander Bastedo and his associates remembered the _129_, which, when last observed, was speeding through the water on an independent course of her own. In the midst of the excitement there came a message from this boat: "Submarine sighted!" Then a second afterward came another message. "My engines are disabled." In a short time Bastedo had reached the boat. "Where is the submarine?" "We just sank it," was the answer. _No. 129_ had dropped eight depth charges, one directly over the Austrian boat; in the water thrown up the officers had counted seven pieces of metal plates, and the masses of oil and bubbles that presently arose completed the story of the destruction. Meanwhile, the British cruisers had taken up their station at Durazzo and were finishing the work that made this place useless as a military headquarters. Not a man in the whole American force was injured; in a brief time the excitement was all over, and the great ships, screened again by the wasps of chasers, started back to Brindisi. The impression made upon our Allies was well expressed in the congratulatory message sent to me in London by Commodore Kelly, who commanded the British cruisers in this action.