The _Zero_ was old, very old, and quite unlovely, but according to her captain, ‘she had her points.’ What these points were no one had ever discovered, for all inquiries were met with the reply that ‘if they couldn’t see them for themselves, he (the captain) was certainly not going to the trouble of pointing them out for their (the inquirer’s) instruction.’ She was small and uncomfortable and resembled an overgrown motor-launch with a whale-back fo’c’sle. Also she was wet in a sea way, and her internal arrangements were not of the most convenient. Nevertheless she was a command, and in her captain’s eye she had no blemish. Later, when he had four stripes on his sleeve, and commanded a battleship, he would look back on her and study her photographs with amusement and a little sorrow, but now, he was very serious about her and very touchy about criticisms. No man dared speak lightly of her since the awful day when ‘Snatcher’ Shelldon had referred to her as ‘a lady of doubtful age.’ The result had been terrific, and from that day nobody had openly questioned the _Zero_ or her capabilities. As he stepped aboard, Burton, the R.N.R. First Lieutenant, met him and saluted. ‘All ready, sir,’ he reported. ‘Very good, we’ll shove off at once,’ said Jenkins. ‘“123” will follow us in half an hour, so we haven’t got too much time. Stand by to let the lines go.’ He picked his way along the deck, past the two torpedo tubes, and the twelve-pounder guns, and up the ladder to the bridge. Here was no ‘big ship’ routine, for the _Zero_ only carried two officers and just sufficient hands for the efficiency of the ship, and the helmsman and a signal boy were in sole charge of the bridge. It was not an extensive structure, and consisted of a wheelhouse and chart-room amidships, fronted with glass and affording some protection against wind and rain, and two wings thrown out to the vessel’s sides. Just below the fore-part amidship was a twelve-pounder gun, and beyond the whole back stretched to the razor bow. She was not much to look at, but she could still do her twenty-two knots and a bit over if called upon, without unduly straining herself or her twin engines. Jenkins gave an order and the lines were thrown off fore and aft. Then the engines began to move and the _Zero_ slid quietly astern. Aboard the submarine alongside heads appeared from the hatches, and a parting insult was cast in an undertone at an able seaman who was coiling down a line. Slowly she cleared the sterns of the _Parentis_ and her satellites, swung round, came ahead, and steadied on her course out of the harbour.