‘All ready for’ard, sir,’ said Seagrave, coming aft. ‘We haven’t had a great deal of practice in the fore-end lately, but that new man seems to understand his job. I’ve drained the tubes, so that we can go through the whole routine again.’ ‘Very good. I’ll let you know in plenty of time. We’ve got to get old Jinks this journey, remember. He mustn’t be allowed to crow twice. Up periscope,’ he added to the able seaman who was controlling the movements of the ‘look-stick’ so that the captain might be free to make his observations. ‘All right,’ he continued, finishing his brief survey. ‘Carry on for’ard. Jinks has turned back now. Keep her at eighteen feet, coxswain.’ Another rapid glance a few minutes later showed him what he was waiting for, and as the periscope came down he prepared for the attack. ‘Alter course to 175 deg., bearing 160 deg.,’ he called out. ‘Speed up 500. Flood the tubes.’ ‘Flood the tubes,’ repeated Boyd along the tunnel of the boat, and ‘flood the tubes’ came back from Seagrave in the fore-end. Round the tube doors a buzz of preparation took place. Before opening the bow-cap and exposing the outboard doors at the farther end, through which the torpedoes would presently be launched by compressed air, the tubes had to be filled with water. It was necessary to flood them from the water already in the fore-trimming tank, because if outside water were allowed to enter the boat the extra weight would put her down by the head and seriously upset her trim, probably even rendering an attack impossible. Then, when the tubes were flooded, the bow-cap could be swung, and on the order to fire compressed air would hurl the torpedoes from their cages, the trippers would engage and force back the starting levers as they slid out, and they would be away from the mark at forty knots. ‘Open the drains and vents!’ cried Seagrave. ‘Air on the fore trim line!’ Away aft in the control room Hoskins worked at a spindle on the air manifold, and a rumbling and gurgling indicated that water was being blown from the tank up into the tubes. Seagrave and the T.I. were watching the gauges as the level slowly rose. Up, up it came, and as the thin bubble line reached the top, a spurt of water shot out from the vents. ‘Shut off drains and blows,’ cried the ‘Sub.’ ‘Close the vents!’ The tubes were now full, and with a few turns of a wheel he forced the great bow-cap for’ard off its seating. Then with his foot on a shining brass pedal, with a single heave of a lever, he swung the whole mass round till the indicator showed that the open doors were in line with the tubes. Something fell into place with a click, the cap was worked back on to its seating, and the torpedoes were free for their mission. ‘Charge firing tanks’ was the next order, and as the air sighed and soughed through the pipes, ‘All ready for’ard, sir!’ he shouted. ‘Ay, ay,’ answered Raymond, with his eye at the periscope. ‘Bearing of _Zero_ 165 deg. What’s her depth?’