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 Computer GraphiCs
proGramminG in openGL
with Java
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 Computer GraphiCs
proGramminG in openGL
with Java

V. Scott Gordon, Ph.D.

California State University, Sacramento

John Clevenger, Ph.D.

California State University, Sacramento

merCury LearninG and information

Dulles, Virginia
Boston, Massachusetts
New Delhi
Copyright ©2017 by Mercury Learning and InforMation LLC. All rights reserved.

This publication, portions of it, or any accompanying software may not be reproduced in any way,
stored in a retrieval system of any type, or transmitted by any means, media, electronic display or
mechanical display, including, but not limited to, photocopy, recording, Internet postings, or scan-
ning, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

Publisher: David Pallai

Mercury Learning and InforMation

22841 Quicksilver Drive
Dulles, VA 20166
[email protected]
www.merclearning.com
(800) 232-0223

V. Scott Gordon & John Clevenger

Computer Graphics Programming in OpenGL with Java
ISBN: 978-1-683920-27-4

The publisher recognizes and respects all marks used by companies, manufacturers, and
developers as a means to distinguish their products. All brand names and product names mentioned
in this book are trademarks or service marks of their respective companies. Any omission or misuse
(of any kind) of service marks or trademarks, etc. is not an attempt to infringe on the property
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The sole obligation of Mercury Learning and InforMation to the purchaser is to replace the book
and/or disc, based on defective materials or faulty workmanship, but not based on the operation or
functionality of the product.
Contents
Preface xi
Intended Audience xiii
How to Use This Book xiii
Acknowledgments xv
About the Authors xv

Chapter 1 Getting Started 1

1.1 Languages and Libraries 1
1.1.1 Java 2
1.1.2 OpenGL / GLSL 2
1.1.3 JOGL 3
1.1.4 graphicslib3D 3
1.2 Installation and Configuration 3
1.2.1 Installing Java 3
1.2.2 Installing OpenGL / GLSL 4
1.2.3 Installing JOGL 4
1.2.4 Installing graphicslib3D 4

Chapter 2 JOGL and the OpenGL Graphics Pipeline 7

2.1 The OpenGL Pipeline 8
2.1.1 Java/JOGL Application 9
2.1.2 Vertex and Fragment Shaders 12
2.1.3 Tessellation 17
 2.1.4 Geometry Shader 18
2.1.5 Rasterization 19
2.1.6 Fragment Shader 20
2.1.7 Pixel Operations 21
2.2 Detecting OpenGL and GLSL Errors 23
2.3 Reading GLSL Source Code from Files 27
2.4 Building Objects from Vertices 29
2.5 Animating a Scene 30

Chapter 3 Mathematical Foundations 35

3.1 3D Coordinate Systems 36
3.2 Points 36
3.3 Matrices 37
3.4 Transformation Matrices 40
3.4.1 Translation 40
3.4.2 Scaling 41
3.4.3 Rotation 42
3.5 Vectors 44
3.5.1 Uses for Dot Product 45
3.5.2 Uses for Cross Product 47
3.6 Local and World Space 48
3.7 Eye Space and the Synthetic Camera 49
3.8 Projection Matrices 52
3.8.1 The Perspective Projection Matrix 52
3.8.2 The Orthographic Projection Matrix 54
3.9 Look-At Matrix 56
3.10 GLSL Functions for Building Matrix Transforms 57

Chapter 4 Managing 3D Graphics Data 63

4.1 Buffers & Vertex Attributes 64
4.2 Uniform Variables 67
4.3 Interpolation of Vertex Attributes 68
4.4 Model-View and Perspective Matrices 69
4.5 Our First 3D Program – a 3D Cube 71
4.6 Rendering Multiple Copies of an Object 80
4.6.1 Instancing 81
4.7 Rendering Multiple Different Models in a Scene 85
4.8 Matrix Stacks 87

vi ■ C o n t e n ts
 4.9 Combating “Z-Fighting” Artifacts 94
4.10 Other Options for Primitives 95
4.11 Back-Face Culling 97

Chapter 5 Texture Mapping 103

5.1 Loading Texture Image Files 104
5.2 Texture Coordinates 106
5.3 Creating a Texture Object 108
5.4 Constructing Texture Coordinates 108
5.5 Loading Texture Coordinates into Buffers 110
5.6 Using the Texture in a Shader: Sampler Variables and Texture Units 110
5.7 Texture Mapping: Example Program 111
5.8 Mipmapping 114
5.9 Anisotropic Filtering 120
5.10 Wrapping and Tiling 121
5.11 Perspective Distortion 123
5.12 Loading Texture Image Files Using Java AWT Classes 124

Chapter 6 3D Models 129

6.1 Procedural Models – Building a Sphere 130
6.2 OpenGL Indexing – Building a Torus 137
6.2.1 The Torus 137
6.2.2 Indexing in OpenGL 139
6.3 Loading Externally Produced Models 144

Chapter 7 Lighting 157

7.1 Lighting Models 157
7.2 Lights 159
7.3 Materials 163
7.4 ADS Lighting Computations 165
7.5 Implementing ADS Lighting 168
7.5.1 Gouraud Shading 169
7.5.2 Phong Shading 177
7.6 Combining Lighting and Textures 182

Chapter 8 Shadows 189

8.1 The Importance of Shadows 189
8.2 Projective Shadows 190

C onte nts ■ vii

 8.3 Shadow Volumes 191
8.4 Shadow Mapping 192
8.4.1 Shadow Mapping (PASS ONE) – “Draw” Objects
from Light Position 193
8.4.2 Shadow Mapping (Intermediate Step) – Copying the
Z-Buffer to a Texture 194
8.4.3 Shadow Mapping (PASS TWO) – Rendering the
Scene with Shadows 195
8.5 A Shadow Mapping Example 199
8.6 Shadow Mapping Artifacts 205

Chapter 9 Sky and Backgrounds 211

9.1 Skyboxes 211
9.2 Skydomes 214
9.3 Implementing a Skybox 215
9.3.1 Building a Skybox from Scratch 216
9.3.2 Using OpenGL Cube Maps 219
9.4 Environment Mapping 223

Chapter 10 Enhancing Surface Detail 231

10.1 Bump Mapping 232
10.2 Normal Mapping 233
10.3 Height Mapping 242

Chapter 11 Parametric Surfaces 249

11.1 Quadratic Bézier Curves 249
11.2 Cubic Bézier Curves 251
11.3 Quadratic Bézier Surfaces 254
11.4 Cubic Bézier Surfaces 256

Chapter 12 Tessellation 261

12.1 Tessellation in OpenGL 261
12.2 Tessellation for Bézier Surfaces 267
12.3 Tessellation for Terrain / Height Maps 273
12.4 Controlling Level of Detail (LOD) 281

viii ■ C o n t e n ts
Chapter 13 Geometry Shaders 287
13.1 Per-Primitive Processing in OpenGL 287
13.2 Altering Primitives 288
13.3 Deleting Primitives 293
13.4 Adding Primitives 294

Chapter 14 Other Techniques 299

14.1 Fog 299
14.2 Compositing / Blending / Transparency 302
14.3 User-Defined Clipping Planes 308
14.4 3D Textures 310
14.5 Noise 316
14.6 Noise Application – Marble 321
14.7 Noise Application – Wood 323
14.8 Noise Application – Clouds 327
14.9 Noise Application – Special Effects 332

Index 337

C onte nts ■ ix
Preface
This book is designed primarily as a textbook for a typical computer science undergradu-
ate course in OpenGL 3D graphics programming. However, we have also wanted to create
a text that could be used to teach oneself, without an accompanying course. With both of
those aims in mind, we have tried to explain things as clearly and simply as we can. Every
programming example is stripped-down and simplified as much as possible, but still com-
plete so that the reader may run them all as presented.

One of the things that we hope is unique about this book is that we have strived to make
it accessible to a beginner—that is, someone new to 3D graphics programming. While
there is by no means a lack of information available on the topic—quite the contrary—
many students are initially overwhelmed. This text is our attempt to write the book we
wish we had had when we were starting out, with step-by-step explanations of the basics,
progressing in an organized manner up through advanced topics. We considered titling the
book “shader programming made easy”; however, we don’t think that there really is any
way of making shader programming “easy.” We hope that we have come close.

Another thing that makes this book unique is that it teaches OpenGL programming
in Java, using JOGL—a Java “wrapper” for OpenGL’s native C calls [JO16]. There are
several advantages to learning graphics programming in Java rather than in C:
• It is more convenient for students at schools that conduct most of their curriculum
in Java.
• Java’s I/O, window, and event handling are arguably cleaner than in C.
• Java’s excellent support for object-oriented design patterns can foster good design.
 It is worth mentioning that there do exist other Java bindings for OpenGL. One that
is becoming increasingly popular is Lightweight Java Game Library, or LWJGL [LW16].
Like JOGL, LWJGL also offers bindings for OpenAL and OpenCL. This textbook focuses
only on JOGL.

Another point of clarification is that there exist both different versions of OpenGL
(briefly discussed later) and different variants of OpenGL. For example, in addition to
“standard OpenGL” (sometimes called “desktop OpenGL”), there exists a variant called
“OpenGL ES” which is tailored for development of embedded systems (hence the “ES”).
“Embedded systems” include devices such as mobile phones, game consoles, automobiles,
and industrial control systems. OpenGL ES is mostly a subset of standard OpenGL, elimi-
nating a large number of operations that are typically not needed for embedded systems.
OpenGL ES also adds some additional functionality, typically application-specific opera-
tions for particular target environments. The JOGL suite of Java bindings includes inter-
faces for different versions of OpenGL ES, although we do not use them in this book.

Yet another variant of OpenGL is called “WebGL.” Based on OpenGL ES, WebGL is
designed to support the use of OpenGL in web browsers. WebGL allows an application to
use JavaScript1 to invoke OpenGL ES operations, which makes it easy to embed OpenGL
graphics into standard HTML (web) documents. Most modern web browsers support
WebGL, including Apple Safari, Google Chrome, Microsoft Internet Explorer, Mozilla
Firefox, and Opera. Since web programming is outside the scope of this book, we will not
cover any WebGL specifics. Note however that because WebGL is based on OpenGL ES,
which in turn is based on standard OpenGL, much of what is covered in this book can be
transferred directly to learning about these OpenGL variants.

The very topic of 3D graphics lends itself to impressive, even beautiful images.
Indeed, many popular textbooks on the topic are filled with breathtaking scenes, and it
is enticing to leaf through their galleries. While we acknowledge the motivational utility
of such examples, our aim is to teach, not to impress. The images in this book are simply
the outputs of the example programs, and since this is an introductory text, the resulting
scenes are unlikely to impress an expert. However, the techniques presented do constitute
the foundational elements for producing today’s stunning 3D effects.

We also haven’t tried to create an OpenGL or JOGL “reference.” Our coverage of

OpenGL and JOGL represents only a tiny fraction of their capabilities. Rather, our aim is to

1
JavaScript is a scripting language that can be used to embed code in webpages. It has strong
similarities to Java, but also many important differences.

xii ■ Pr e f a c e
use OpenGL and JOGL as vehicles for teaching the fundamentals of modern shader-based
3D graphics programming, and provide the reader with a sufficiently deep understanding
for further study. If along the way this text helps to expand awareness of JOGL and other
JogAmp technologies, that would be nice too.

Intended Audience
This book is targeted at students of computer science. This could mean undergraduates pur-
suing a BS degree, but it could also mean anyone who studies computer science. As such, we
are assuming that the reader has at least a solid background in object-oriented programming,
at the level of someone who is, say, a computer science major at the junior or senior level.

There are also some specific things that we use in this book, but that we don’t cover
because we assume the reader already has sufficient background. In particular:
• Java and its Abstract Window Toolkit (AWT) or Swing library, especially for
GUI-building
• Java configuration details, such as manipulating the CLASSPATH
• event-driven programming
• basic matrix algebra and trigonometry
• awareness of color models, such as RGB, RGBA, etc.

How to Use This Book

This book is designed to be read from front to back. That is, material in later chapters
frequently relies on information learned in earlier chapters. So it probably won’t work to
jump back and forth in the chapters; rather, work your way forwards through the material.

This is also intended mostly as a practical, hands-on guide. While there is plenty of
theoretical material included, the reader should treat this text as a sort of “workbook,” in
which you learn basic concepts by actually programming them yourself. We have provided
code for all of the examples, but to really learn the concepts you will want to play with
those examples—extend them to build your own 3D scenes.

At the end of each chapter are a few problems to solve. Some are very simple, involv-
ing merely making simple modifications to the provided code. The problems that are
marked “(PROJECT),” however, are expected to take some time to solve, and require writ-
ing a significant amount of code, or combining techniques from various examples. There
are also a few marked “(RESEARCH)”—those are problems that encourage independent
study because this textbook doesn’t provide sufficient detail to solve them.

Pre fa c e ■ xiii
 OpenGL calls, whether made in C or in Java through JOGL, often involve long lists of
parameters. While writing this book, the authors debated whether or not to, in each case,
describe all of the parameters. We decided that at the very beginning, we would describe
every detail. But as the topics progress, we decided to avoid getting bogged down in every
piece of minutiae in the OpenGL calls (and there are many), for fear of the reader losing
sight of the big picture. For this reason, it is essential when working through the examples
to have ready access to reference material for Java, OpenGL, and JOGL.

For this, there are a number of excellent reference sources that we recommend using
in conjunction with this book. The javadocs for Java and JOGL are absolutely essential,
and can be accessed online or downloaded (we explain in Chapter 1 how to download the
JOGL javadoc). The reader should bookmark them for easy access in a browser, and expect
to access them continuously for looking up items such as parameter and constructor details.
The URLs for the Java and JOGL javadocs are:

https://docs.oracle.com/javase/8/docs/api/
https://jogamp.org/deployment/webstart/javadoc/jogl/javadoc

Many of the entries in the JOGL javadoc are simply pointers to the corresponding
entry in the OpenGL documentation, available here:

https://www.opengl.org/sdk/docs/man/

Our examples utilize a mathematics library called graphicslib3D. This is a Java library
that also has its own set of javadocs included. After installing graphicslib3D (described in
Chapter 1), the reader should locate the accompanying javadoc folder and bookmark its
root file (index.html).

Finally, there are many other books on 3D graphics programming that we recommend
reading in parallel with this book (such as for solving the “research” problems). Here are
five that we often refer to:
• (Sellers et al.) OpenGL SuperBible [SW15]
• (Kessenich et al.) OpenGL Programming Guide [KS16] (the “red book”)
• (Wolff) OpenGL 4 Shading Language Cookbook [WO13]
• (Angel and Shreiner) Interactive Computer Graphics [AS14]
• (Luna) Introduction to 3D Game Programming with DirectX 12 [LU16]

xiv ■ Pr e f a c e
Acknowledgments
Early drafts of this book were used in the CSc-155 (Advanced Computer Graphics
Programming) course at CSU Sacramento, and benefited from many student corrections
and comments (and in some cases, code). The authors would particularly like to thank
Mitchell Brannan, Tiffany Chiapuzio-Wong, Samson Chua, Anthony Doan, Kian Faroughi,
Cody Jackson, John Johnston, Zeeshan Khaliq, Raymond Rivera, Oscar Solorzano, Darren
Takemoto, Jon Tinney, James Womack, and Victor Zepeda for their suggestions. We
apologize if we have missed anyone.

We are extremely grateful for the invaluable advice provided to us by Julien Gouesse,
engine support maintainer at Jogamp. Mr. Gouesse provided technical information on
JOGL textures, cube maps, buffer handling, and proper loading of shader source files that
led to improvements in our text.

Jay Turberville of Studio 522 Productions in Scottsdale (Arizona) built the dolphin
model shown on the cover and used throughout this book. Studio 522 Productions does
incredibly high-quality 3D animation and video production, as well as custom 3D mod-
eling. We were thrilled that Mr. Turberville kindly offered to build such a wonderful new
model just for this book project.

We wish to thank a few other artists and researchers who were gracious enough
to allow us to utilize their models and textures. James Hastings-Trew of Planet Pixel
Emporium provided many of the planetary surface textures. Paul Bourke allowed us to use
his wonderful star field. Dr. Marc Levoy of Stanford University granted us permission to
use the famous “Stanford Dragon” model. Paul Baker’s bump-mapping tutorial formed the
basis of the “torus” model we used in many examples. We also thank Mercury Learning
for allowing us to use some of the textures from [LU16].

Dr. Danny Kopec connected us with Mercury Learning and introduced us to its pub-
lisher, David Pallai. Dr. Kopec’s Artificial Intelligence textbook inspired us to consider
Mercury, and our telephone conversations with him were extremely informative. We were
deeply saddened to hear of Dr. Kopec’s untimely passing, and regret that he didn’t have the
chance to see our book come to fruition.

Finally, we wish to thank David Pallai and Jennifer Blaney of Mercury Learning for
believing in this project and guiding us through the textbook publishing process.

Pre fa c e ■ xv
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
fifteen feet of ladder and stepped across the intervening space
between the water and the motor-boat's quarter.

"Here's your bunk," announced Waynsford, pointing to a cot swung

against the side of the bin. "Nalder, my opposite number, sleeps on
the port bunk."

"How about you?" asked Terence.

"I'm going to turn in on the floor for the next few nights," replied
Waynsford. "I'm used to it. You see, we've another boat for actual
duty purposes in fine weather. She's smaller and handier. We use
'Lonette' mostly as a kind of parent ship. Now, I'll get the boy to
bring the grub in. Fire away and let's have all the news."

During the rest of the day while daylight lasted Waynsford piloted
his chum round the Queen of Watering Places, taking him up to the
ruined castle and introducing him to some officers of Kitchener's
Army whose acquaintance he had recently made.

"Jolly decent place in the summer, I should imagine," declared

Waynsford, as the chums wended their way back to the harbour.
"But deadly dull now. Not a light to be seen after dark. It makes one
almost wish that the Germans would pay the place a visit, if only to
make things a little more lively."

"Eh, what's that?" inquired Terence.

"Only wishing for the impossible, my dear fellow. Being an

unfortified town Scarborough will not be favoured with the attentions
of the Teutons. Apart from that they won't risk another raid. They're
too wary of our fleet."

It was quite late in the night before the officers of the "Lonette"
turned in. The crew detailed for the duty boat had departed, their
"trick" commencing at midnight. Quietude settled upon the almost
lifeless harbour. Most of the fishing fleet that still remained at its
usual work were out. Five or six of the boats, locked up for the
night, were moored in the inner harbour. Three more, preparing to
leave at high water, were tied up to buoys at the entrance to the
outer basin, their crews working silently as if infected by the solitude
that overspread the once busy port.

Suddenly Terence was awakened by finding himself slipping from

his bunk. In the darkness, for the moment, unable to recall his
surroundings, he imagined himself back in the old "Strongbow," and
that the vessel was rolling badly. But quickly he discovered that the
movement was different; there was no recovery. He felt his bunk list
more and more, until vainly endeavouring to hold himself in, he
subsided upon the still soundly sleeping Waynsford.

"Confound it!" exclaimed that worthy. "She's heeled outwards. I

thought we'd taken proper precautions. Sorry to disturb you, old
man."

"It's a case of my disturbing you, I fancy," replied Terence, after he

had extricated himself from the pile of blankets and cushions. "I
don't mind, if you don't. There goes the crockery," he added, as a
series of crashes came from the fo'c'sle.

Striking a match Waynsford lit the cabin lamp and glanced at the
bulkhead clock.

"Seven, by Jove!" he exclaimed. "It's close on low water. In another

two hours we'll be afloat again. No use attempting to turn in. Nalder,
you lazy bounder, get up and join in a hand of dummy whist."

Sub-Lieutenant Nalder, who being in the port cot had been wedged
between the bunk cushions and those on the side, was sleeping
unconcernedly throughout the racket, as if such happenings were
quite in the usual order of things. Aroused by Waynsford's voice and
a hearty slap on the back, he sat up.

"Right-o," he agreed. "Jones!"

 "Sir!" replied a muffled voice from the fo'c'sle.

"Bring me my pack of cards, will you?"

Terence heard the unmistakable sounds of someone trying to open

a jammed door. Then, after a moment's delay the fo'c'sle sliding
door was thrust open and the seaman thrust his dishevelled head
into the cabin.

"Sorry, sir," he reported, "but the blessed condensed milk has gone
and upset itself all over the pack."

"That's kippered our game," remarked Waynsford. "Let's turn out

and see what it's like. A stretch before breakfast will do us good."

Donning their great-coats, the three officers contrived, without

mishap, to leap from the heeling side of the motor-boat to the rungs
of the ladder.

"Beastly foggy morning," declared Nalder.

"Just getting light enough to see," added Waynsford, as, in

contradiction to his statement, he stumbled and almost fell over a
mooring rope.

Gradually the gaunt outlines of the ruined castle that towered high
above the harbour began to grow distinct against the grey sky. The
fog began to disperse, although the cliffs to the southern end of the
town were still invisible.

"Let's stroll up to the castle," suggested Waynsford. "It will be

something to do."

Acting upon this proposal the two ascended the stony path. As they
approached the coastguard station they noticed that the signalman
was peering seawards through a telescope. The man was so intent
upon some objects out to sea that he paid no attention to the new-
comers.

Presently the coastguardsman put down his telescope and seized

the mouthpiece of a telephone in the signal hut. Terence could hear
him speaking distinctly.

"Strange vessels approaching from the nor'ard, sir," he reported to

the officer at the Naval Wireless Station behind the town. "I've
signalled them, but they won't pay any attention."

The three subs. gazed seawards. Just visible through the haze
were four cruisers, moving sufficiently fast through the leaden-
coloured water to cause the foam to froth at their bows. Even as
they looked the young officers were mildly surprised to see a spurt
of dull red flame burst from the for'ard turret of the leading vessel.

Mild surprise gave place to complete astonishment as a heavy shell

hurtled overhead, carrying away several of the telegraph wires, and
plunged with a terrific detonation into the fortunately unoccupied
barracks on the Castle Hill.

Before the noise of the falling brickwork and masonry had subsided
the devoted coastguardsman could be heard shouting on the
telephone:—

"They're German cruisers: they're shelling us."

The man had done his duty. He could do no more good remaining
where he was. At a quick double he tore for safety, shouting to the
young officers to get under cover.

Aubyn, with his companions, quickly took this advice to heart. He

had in the action between the "Saraband" and the "Osnabruck"
stood up to the hostile fire, but then it was a fight on even terms.
Now it was a one-sided affair, and by the noise of the exploding shell
Terence knew that it was of much larger calibre than those that
came from the German armed liner.

Scarcely had the fugitives covered a hundred yards when another

appalling crash, followed by a distinct blast of acrid-smelling air,
caused Terence to look back. A shell, better aimed than the first, had
completely demolished the signal hut. This missile was followed by
salvo after salvo, some forty shells of various calibre raining on the
Castle Hill. Others, striking the sheer cliffs, brought tons of rock
clattering down upon the Marine Parade, while what was far worse,
many projectiles skimming the ruins of the castle, fell with disastrous
results upon the congested buildings of the town.

The three subs. were now under the lee of the frowning rock. Here
they were comparatively safe, except from stray fragments of
splintered shell and flying masonry. The coastguardsman had gone
in a different direction.

"The swine!" ejaculated Nalder. "They're shelling a defenceless

town. And the 'Lonette' is high and dry too."

In spite of the serious situation his comrades gave vent to a hearty

laugh. It seemed so incongruous that Nalder should have taken the
plight of the little motor-boat into consideration. Yet had Nalder had
his way it was quite possible that he would have blazed away with a
rifle at the huge steel monsters with as much result as a small boy
using a peashooter against an elephant.

"Not a bad idea getting down to the harbour," added Waynsford.

"We'll be fairly sheltered, and we can see what's going on."

Terence thought otherwise. Massive stone walls afford no

protection from monster guns. Nevertheless he raised no objection.
For one thing—and here the professional sailor scored heavily over
the two amateurs—it afforded a chance of making a note of the
appearance of the hostile vessels: information that might prove of
immense service to the Admiralty.
 Shells were raining upon the undefended town as the three
reached the harbour pier. In several parts of Scarborough fires,
caused by the exploding projectiles, had broken out, and dense
columns of smoke rose from the demolished buildings. Having, as
they thought, completely demolished the supposed batteries on
Castle Hill the German gunners were out to do as much damage to
private property as they possibly could. It was but a phase in the
terrorizing operations that these modern barbarians delight in calling
"kultur."

The attacking craft had now passed in front of the Castle Hill and
were clearly visible from the harbour, as they slowly steamed within
a quarter of a mile of the shore, vomiting death and destruction
upon the hapless town.

The leading craft Terence recognized as one of the Derfflinger Class

—an inferior imitation of our Dreadnought cruisers. Astern of her
came the "Bluecher," a vessel whose construction the German
people hailed with acclamation as the most powerful craft afloat and
one that would outclass anything that the British had or would be
likely to have. Yet, ere the "Bluecher" took the water, she was
hopelessly outmatched by the "Indomitable" class.

For once, however, these two ships were having things all their
own way. With the exception of the fiasco at Yarmouth, over a
hundred years had elapsed since the thunder of an enemy's guns
had been heard by the dwellers of our sea-girt island. British pride in
the impregnable position of our insular kingdom had received a
nasty shock, for without let or hindrance German guns were
pounding her shores in broad daylight.

Half a mile or so behind the battle cruisers were two light cruisers,
which apparently took little part in the one-sided engagement. They
were engaged in the pleasant occupation of mine-laying, in the hope
that one of the British squadrons, summoned by wireless, would
flounder blindly into the dangerous zone.
 "Oh, for a couple of our submarines!" groaned Terence, as the
hostile craft moved slowly along the bay. "They'd bag the whole
crowd of them."

Twenty paces from the spot where the subs. stood was an old
bronzed and bearded fisherman—a typical Yorkshire salt. Heedless of
the risk he ran, he leapt upon the stone parapet, and shaking his fist
at the German ships rated them in the choicest language of the
Shire of Broad Acres. Nor would he descend when Aubyn pointed
out the risk he ran, and it was only when a shell tore a huge hole in
the side of the lighthouse that the old fellow would deign to move.

For a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes the two cruisers

maintained a hot fire with their starboard guns. Then came a pause
in the hitherto ceaseless roar of the ordnance, as the ships circled to
port. Retracing their course they reopened fire, till, gradually
increasing speed, they shaped a course nor'nor'east and disappeared
in the haze.

"Let's gie into town an see t' damage," suggested the old
fisherman, who, like the rest of the hardy East Coast men, had little
respect for rank and persons. "Sith'a, lads, there'll be work for us
over yonder," and he pointed to the maze of houses, many of which
showed signs of the effect of the high-explosive shells.

In the course of his sea-service Terence Aubyn had witnessed more

than one horrible sight; but in all his previous experience he had
never seen anything approaching the cold-blooded butchery of mere
civilians—men, women, and children—by the murderous German
shells.

With the energy and coolness that is characteristic of the born

seaman he dashed into a practically gutted house, whence cries of
pain had attracted his attention.

The house was in one of the poorer districts, substantially built of

stone, as is frequently the case in the north of England. A projectile
had struck the building just above the ground-floor window. The
stonework had, for the most part, resisted the explosion, the force of
which had resulted in floors and roofs being either demolished or
reduced to a state of absolute insecurity. The ground floors were
piled high with débris, under which, though partly visible, was the
dead body of an old man.

The cries for aid, uttered in a childish voice, came from the upper
storey. Here a part of the bedroom floor had collapsed, exposing to
view a wooden bedstead, so insecurely perched that it threatened at
every moment to topple over into the chaotic mass thirty feet below.
The stairs had vanished, only the iron handrail and a few of its
supports remaining.

"What's the move?" demanded Waynsford, as Aubyn threw off his

great-coat and handed it to a boy who was watching the scene of
desolation with marked curiosity. "Don't be a fool, man! Wait till they
bring a ladder."

"It may be too late then," replied Terence; then turning to the old
fisherman he bade him bring a coil of rope.

"Thank goodness, there's one man who knows what he is about,"

thought Aubyn, as the veteran salt hurried off. "No stopping to ask
what size or what length."

The next instant the sub. was well on his hazardous climb.
Grasping the handrail and making fairly certain that it would bear his
weight, Terence hauled himself up, using the holes in the stonework,
left by the dislodged stairs, as footholds. As sure-footed as a cat, as
active as a panther, he swung himself up, hardly pausing till he
gained the uppermost landing, where a few square inches of
floorboards remained. Between that and the bedstead was a gap
nearly ten feet in width. A professional long-jumper might have
essayed the task with success, but in his case Terence realized that a
leap would be out of the question.
 Rapidly the sub. reviewed the situation. From where he stood he
could see the children distinctly. One was a girl of about nine years
of age, fair-haired and pale-faced. It was she who was screaming,
more with fright than pain, although there was a dark moist patch
upon her hair. Her companion was a child of about three, lying with
his head over the side of the bed to all appearances either dead or
else unconscious.

Already the joist nearest the gap in the shattered floor was bending
ominously. Terence felt certain that even if he could get across the
intervening space his weight would precipitate the bed and its
occupants on to the mound of rubble and broken woodwork below.

He looked above him. The laths and plaster of the ceiling had
vanished, the tiles had been blown into the street, leaving the gaunt
rafters practically intact. Raising his hand he found that he could just
grasp the sloping timber.

"If it carries away, I'm done," he thought. "But it's no use hanging
on here, so here goes."

With a resolute leap the sub. seized the two adjoining rafters. The
rough woodwork lacerated his hands, but he heeded it not. By sheer
muscular effort he raised himself sufficiently to pass his arms over
the timber, whence it was a comparatively simple matter to clamber
on top of the outside wall.

Well it was that Aubyn had a good head for heights. Looking down
from that precarious perch would make most landsmen giddy, but as
coolly as if he were walking along a street, the sub. made his way
round to the opposite side of the shattered house immediately over
the still holding floor of the bedroom.

The elder child, on seeing Terence approach, had ceased her cries
and was watching him with wide-open eyes. Then she raised herself,
as if to make a spring into his arms.
 "Don't move just yet," exclaimed the sub. as calmly as he could.
"I'll help you both very soon."

He was desperately anxious lest the girl, by her action, would bring
about the calamity he was trying to prevent. At the same time he
was racking his brains to find out how he could get hold of the rope
when the fisherman returned with it.

"Eh, little lass," he exclaimed, imitating to the best of his ability the
East Riding dialect, "just you hand me up one of those sheets. Don't
hurry."

The girl obeyed, wonderingly but unhesitatingly. Terence began to

tear the cotton sheet into thin strips, binding them into one
continuous length, until he judged that he had sufficient to reach the
ground.
 [Illustration: "'Don't move just yet,' said the Sub. 'I'll help you both
very soon.'"]

Hardly were his preparations completed when the fisherman

returned, puffing and blowing with his exertions.

"Eh, lad, a've got 'en," he announced. "An' a block as well. Th'
knows it might come in handy.

"Good man!" thought Terence. "He's solved an awkward problem."

Then addressing the old salt: "Stand by and bend the rope on to
this," he shouted, as he allowed one end of the cotton strip to flutter
to the ground.

Steadily the sub. began to haul in his flimsy line, while the
fisherman dexterously paid out the coil of rope, the end of which he
had made to Aubyn's means of communication. Then, as soon as he
saw that Terence had secured one end of the rope, the old man
hitched on the large pulley and continued to pay out more cordage
until the block was within the sub.'s grasp.

Whipping out his knife Terence cut off about six or seven feet of
rope, using the severed portion as a strop to make fast the block to
a pair of rafters. Then passing the rest of the rope through the
sheave his means of effecting the rescue of the children were ready
for service.

"Stand by to lower away," he shouted, as he made a loop known as

a "bowline on a bight."

"Ay, ay," replied the old salt, at the same time signing to Waynsford
and Nalder to bear a hand.

Giving a final tug at the strop to make sure as far as possible that
the rafter would hold, Terence slid into the loop and swung himself
clear of the wall.

"Belay there," he hailed after being lowered a sufficient distance to

bring himself level with the remains of the bedroom floor. "Now, little
lass, I'll hold you. Don't be afraid."

The next moment the injured girl was safe in his arms. Although
the bed shook as the rescued child moved, it still withstood the
tendency to slip into the abyss. Twenty seconds later Terence
handed his charge over to a doctor who formed one of the rapidly-
gathering crowd in the street.

"There's another child—a baby," announced Aubyn. "Badly hurt, I

fancy so haul me up smartly."

Spinning round and round like a joint on a meat-jack the sub. again
ascended, till the smaller child's body was within reach of his arms.
As he whipped off the covering he gave an ill-suppressed
exclamation of horror. The left foot of the little victim had been torn
away at the ankle.

"Good heavens, Waynsford!" exclaimed Terence, after the child-

victims had been removed, and the justly-exasperated crowd began
to disperse. "I'm not a vindictive fellow, but if I had that low-down
German who gave orders for this butchery, it would give me the
greatest pleasure in the world to punch his head."

"You may have the chance yet," replied Waynsford. He had been
thinking deeply for the last few moments. "I'm afraid I'm on the
wrong lay. Here I am, wearing His Majesty's uniform, fooling about
in a rotten little motor-boat, when I ought to be taking a man's part
out there," and he pointed towards the North Sea."

"You haven't done badly, when you come to think of it," remarked
Terence. "At Yarmouth, for instance."

"A beastly fluke. You, my dear fellow, had most of the game then."
 "Buck up!" exclaimed Aubyn cheerily. "You may have a good sniff-in
yet. If you don't, remember there's some verse about people serving
who only sit and wait. I'm not fond of poetry myself, but perhaps
you may know the line I refer to. Let's make a move. There may be
more work for us amongst the ruins."

"May I coom along wi' tha', maaster?" asked the fisherman, who
was coiling away the rope that had been so instrumental. "Eh, lad,
thou'rt real champion."

"By all means," replied the sub. heartily. In spite of his years the
old fellow had his wits about him. If there should be any work of a
similar nature his assistance would be most valuable.

Before they had gone fifty yards the attention of Aubyn and his
party was attracted by the sudden appearance of an elderly
corpulent man whose garments consisted of a pyjama suit, over
which he wore a woman's jacket with the sleeves tied round his
throat, an old pair of carpet slippers and a felt hat. He had just
emerged from a cellar, into which he had bolted during the earlier
stages of the bombardment. Blinking like an owl he asked plaintively
if the danger was at an end.

"Eh, maaster," replied the fisherman. "They kind and humane

Germans sheered off half an hour agone."

"It's disgraceful!" exclaimed the dishevelled man vehemently.

"Didn't the First Lord of the Admiralty tell us plainly, only a few
months ago, that we could sleep quietly in our beds? Weren't those
his exact words?"

"Ay," replied the old salt, with a grim twinkle in his eye. "Ay, that a'
did. Th' knows the Huns gave us a look up at a time when most
folks ought to be up an' about. Naw, get you gone, friend Thomas;
thou'rt not fit to be seen in a respectable town like Scarbro'."
 Terence looked inquiringly at his humble friend, as the pyjama-clad
man waddled away.

"He'll be one o' those fools as oratates on t' parade on Sundays

afternoons," explained the fisherman.

"I knows him well. Always was trying to make us believe that those
Huns were our best friends, and that there weren't no use for a
British Navy. Th' knows t' sort. For one reason, sith'a, I'm not sorry
that those Germans came to Scarbro'."

CHAPTER XIV.
THE END OF THE "TERRIER"

H.M. torpedo-gunboat "Terrier" lay at anchor just within the limits

of one of the numerous shallow estuaries of the Essex Coast. By the
aid of the lead-line and an Admiralty chart on too small a scale to be
of much assistance, Captain Holloway had taken his craft through
the intricate approach channel with often less than three feet of
water under her keel. Now she was lying head to wind, for it was
high water and no tide running, in six fathoms, and within two
hundred and eighty yards of the mud-fringed shore.

The "Terrier" had spent an uneventful week on her station,

patrolling her appointed limits in the North Sea without a single
incident to break the monotony. Swept fore and aft by huge seas
that her high fo'c'sle failed to ward off; plugging away in a zig-zag
course day after day, till her grey funnels were bleached white with
salt spray; with her guns' crews standing by their guns through
watch and watch day and night, she was "doing her little bit" as one
small unit of the vast, tireless navy.
 A few hours previous to the torpedo gunboat's anchoring in the
creek, one of the crew had with great suddenness developed
appendicitis. Although the "Terrier" carried a surgeon, the case was
one for a shore hospital, and as one of the Admiralty "sick-quarters"
was situated in the village at the head of the creek, Captain
Holloway decided to land the patient with the utmost despatch.

It was blowing fairly fresh. Outside the bar the sea was foam-
flecked. Rollers came tumbling in, breaking heavily on shore or else
expending themselves harmlessly in the creek. At her anchorage the
torpedo-gunboat was pitching slightly to the heave of the open sea.

"Do you see any sign of the boat, Mr. Aubyn?" asked Captain
Holloway. "Those fellows ought to be on their way back by this
time."

Terence, who was officer of the watch, brought his glass to bear
upon the shore, where a cluster of red-tiled roofs, dominated by the
grey tower of a church, marked the position of the village—a
distance of about a mile and a half from where the "Terrier" lay.

"Boat's still at the hard, sir," he reported. "The boat-keeper is

sitting in the stern sheets."

Lieutenant-Commander Holloway gave vent to a gesture of

impatience. He knew from the fact that the seaman left in charge
was taking it easy that the rest of the party were not on their way
back to the hard.

On board the "Terrier" the crew were taking advantage of dry

decks to air their saturated clothing and bedding. The watches had
just been changed. Down on the ill-ventilated mess-deck grimy
stokers, up from the confined stokehold, were scrubbing themselves
and changing into clean rig. The fo'c'sle was packed with humanity.
Amid the babel of voices Terence could detect the burr of Glorious
Devon, the broad Scotch of the Highlands, the staccato voice of an
excitable Welshman, the rich brogue of Connemara, and the last but
not least, the unmistakable Cockney accent, but one and all stout-
hearted British seamen. The most frequent topic of conversation that
drifted to the sub.'s ears as he stood on the elevated bridge was
football. Some of the men were discussing home affairs in the blunt
open fashion that Jack Tar unconsciously adopts; others were
debating the prospects of Christmas leave. As for the war, the
subject was almost entirely ignored.

Once more the sub. brought his telescope to bear upon the shore.
There were signs of activity on the part of the boat-keeper, so
Terence came to the conclusion that the hospital party were on their
way back.

Then, with a true seaman's almost unconscious instinct he gave a

glance first to windward and then towards the open sea. As he did
so he made a sudden dash to the engine-room telegraph, signalling
for full speed astern with the starboard engine and full speed ahead
with the port, at the same time shouting in stentorian tones that
electrified the whole of the crew within hearing:—

"Submarine on the port beam!"

A bugle blared. Ere the short notes of alarm had died away Captain
Holloway was beside his subordinate on the bridge. The guns' crews
of the two 4.7's sprang to their weapons. Clang went the breach-
blocks.

"Eight hundred yards!" announced the gunner calmly, as the

copper cylinders with their deadly steel heads were thrust home.

But a deadlier weapon was already on its way towards the doomed
ship. A torpedo, set at its minimum depth in order to make sure that
it would not pass under the keel of its intended prey, was tearing
towards the "Terrier" with the speed of an express train.

From his position on the bridge Terence watched its rapid progress.
He could do nothing beyond what he had already done. It was
evident that before the ship could swing on her cable, under the
adverse action of her twin propellers, until she was bows on to the
deadly missile, the torpedo would hit her.

At times the gleaming steel cylinder was clear of the water

between the crests of the waves, yet unswerving either to right or
left, it headed with disconcerting accuracy towards the ship.

The two 4.7's clashed almost simultaneously. The shell from her
bow gun, aimed at the now disappearing periscope of the hostile
submarine, missed it by a bare yard, and ricochetting, threw up five
distinct columns of spray ere it sunk for good and all.

The gun-layer at the after gun with admirable presence of mind

launched a projectile at the torpedo in the hope of diverting its
course. He made one mistake: he forgot to take into consideration
the refractive properties of water, and consequently the missile
struck the surface too far in the wake of the torpedo to affect its
direction.

"Stand clear there!" shouted the captain, seeing even in that tense
interval that several of the men were standing by the stanchions.

There was a general rush to the starboard side to avoid the direct
effect of the explosion of the "tin-fish," then a strange silence fell
upon the ship's company.

"Crash!"

A hundred feet or so in the air rose a column of spray, as the

deadly torpedo exploded on the port side nearly abreast of the
fo'c'sle gun. The ship literally jumped a yard or so out of the water,
then with a sickening thud, followed by the unmistakable sound of
water pouring into her hull, subsided heavily in the agitated foam.

With his senses practically numbed by the shock of the explosion,

Terence stood stockstill, grasping the bridge rail with both hands,
while unconscious of the fact he held his telescope under his arm.
He was dimly aware of the débris flying all around him, as the
slender pole-mast, ventilators, and other heavy objects went
crashing over the side. Then, as the cloud of spray and acrid smoke
dispersed he could discern the forms of the crew as with varying
speeds the majority regained their feet. A few, stunned by the
concussion, were lying inertly upon the deck.

For quite ninety seconds Aubyn remained in his dazed condition.

Then he realized that the ship was done for, and that he was still
alive. Further, as an officer it was his duty to exert himself for the
sake of the men. He remembered that the captain had been on the
bridge, and turning saw his superior officer standing at the head of
the ladder.

The captain was capless. There was blood upon his forehead. A
splinter had grazed his head, making a clean superficial wound. The
two men exchanged reassuring glances, then in clear, steady tones
Captain Holloway issued an order for all hands to fall in on the
quarter-deck.

The men made their way aft at the double. There was no undue
scrambling or frantic haste, although the "Terrier's" raised fo'c'sle
was now almost flush with the water, and her after part, where the
freeboard was nominally only five feet, was thrice that height in the
air.

Up through the small awkward engine-room stokehold hatchways

came the "black squad," not one man of whom had stirred from his
post until ordered to do so. Knowing full well that a catastrophe had
befallen the ship, but ignorant of the actual facts, or whether she
was on the point of making a sudden plunge to the bottom, these
men had to undergo the greatest ordeal of any of the ship's
company. Yet, before making his dash for safety, the artificer-
engineer had taken care to prevent an explosion of the boilers as the
water poured into the stokehold.
 Of the boats on the davits only one was fit for service. The others
were badly strained by the explosion or damaged by the flying
débris. The serviceable one was quickly lowered, and, although
leaking freely, was manned and brought alongside.

"Pass all injured men over the side," ordered Captain Holloway.
"The rest of you can make the best of your way ashore—and good
luck to you."

The crew gave three rousing cheers and prepared for the coming
ordeal, for although the distance to the shore was an easy swim the
bitter coldness of the water had to be taken into consideration.

One by one the wounded were passed into the boat; after them as
many men as she could safely hold. The boat was ordered to lie off
and render assistance to any swimmers in difficulties.

"With your permission, sir," said Aubyn, "I'll have a look down on
the mess-deck. There may be some of the hands left below."

"Do so, by all means, Mr. Aubyn," replied his superior. "The old
boat shows no great hurry."

"I fancy she's aground for'ard, sir," said the sub. "I'll be as sharp as
I can."

Descending the now almost perpendicular ladder Terence gained

the shelving mess-deck. Already the water was surging over the
forepart; kit-bags, tables and stools were floating in a confused
mass, while those that were not yet reached by the rapidly rising
flood had been thrown about in all directions by the explosion.

It was some time before the sub. grew accustomed to the semi-
gloom. His senses were still affected by the concussion; he could see
the water pouring in, but the noise it made was barely audible. The
situation reminded him of a cinematograph show unaccompanied by
a band.
 "All clear as far as I can see," he thought. "It's about time I looked
after number one. Heavens! What is that?"

Lying almost buried by a pile of gear in one corner of the stokers'

mess was the body of a man. He was insensible, and, in the hurried
rush, had been overlooked by his companions. Already the level of
the water was up to the man's chin as he lay with his head and
shoulders propped up against a broken ditty-box.

Knee-deep in water Terence hurried to the rescue. The man, a

great brawny specimen of humanity, was stripped to the waist.
Surprised in the act of washing, after coming off duty, he had been
rendered senseless by the explosion. His right leg was bent under
him. The limb, Terence knew at a glance, was broken. He was also
bleeding profusely from an ugly scalp wound in the back of his head.

In spite of the unconscious stoker's weight—he turned the scale at

sixteen stone—Aubyn dragged him along the deck to the foot of the
ladder. Here he was temporarily baffled, for the metal "treads" were
now sloping downwards at such an angle that it would be difficult for
him to get a foothold unimpeded, much more when attempting to lift
a heavy man.

It never occurred to the sub. to call upon Captain Holloway for

assistance. The captain, the only person now on deck, was
mechanically puffing at an unlighted cigarette, while his attention
was fixed upon the crowd of swimmers, good, bad, and indifferent,
as they struck out for the shore. Beyond removing his boots the
captain had made no preparations for safety, resolving to remain on
his quarter-deck until his ill-fated command disappeared beneath the
waves.

Unseen by his superior officer and equally unconscious of his

presence, Terence gained the upper deck, secured a rope, and again
descended to the aid of the luckless stoker. Bending the rope round
the man's chest and back the sub. clambered up the ladder and
began to heave away. Under ordinary circumstances Aubyn would
never have attempted such a feat, but sheer nerve gave him the
strength of a giant. Unaided he succeeded in raising the senseless
man and toppling him over the coaming on to the deck.

Just then Captain Holloway, having seen that the last of the
swimmers had reached the mud-fringed shore, remembered that the
sub. had gone below, and finding that he had not returned, hurried
to the companion.

To his surprise he found Aubyn bending over the body of a badly

wounded stoker.

"Found him below, sir," explained the sub. "Double fracture of the
leg and a nasty gash on his head."

With his captain's assistance Terence proceeded to apply rough

splints to the injured limb and to staunch the flow of blood from the
man's head.

"We'll soon have him out of it," remarked Captain Holloway. "The
gig's returning, and I see the whaler is coming up as hard as she
can."

He pointed to the boat which had taken the invalid to the sick-
quarters. Alarmed by the explosion and concluding that something
had befallen the ship, the ship's crew had bent to their oars with a
will, to find on drawing clear of the hard that the "Terrier" was on
the point of sinking.

The sub. felt himself shivering. The keen wind blowing against his
saturated nether garments reminded him that it was mid-winter. As
he stooped to wring the water out of the bottoms of his trousers he
realized that the unconscious stoker, who a few moments before had
been toiling in the hot stokehold, was now lying stripped to the
waist.
 Removing his great-coat and muffler Terence slipped the garments
over the unfortunate man, just as the gig and the whaler came
alongside.

This time there were plenty of helpers. Carefully the stoker was
lowered into the whaler and placed in the stern-sheets.

"Give way, my lads," ordered Captain Holloway. "Run this man up

to the sick-quarters as hard as you know how."

Then turning to Aubyn he added,

"The old ship seems to be hanging on. We may as well have a look
below and see if there's anything of value in our cabins."

Bidding the gig lie off at a boat's length from the ship, which was
now tilted at such an angle that her propellers were clear of the
water, Captain Holloway, followed by Terence, disappeared down the
little companion just abaft the after 4.7-in. gun.

Although Aubyn had been on board the torpedo-gunboat only a

week he was thoroughly familiar with the appearance of the little
box-room dubbed by courtesy a cabin. It would be difficult to
describe its shape, for being well aft she was cut into by the "run" of
the ship's side as it approached the stern-post. It was lighted by two
scuttles, or circular ports. Immediately beneath these lights was his
bunk, extending from bulkhead to bulkhead, yet barely long enough
for him to lie at full length.

Underneath the bunk were two mahogany drawers. In one of the

two corners of the cabin, which were rectangular, stood a wash-
basin, hidden from view by a green baize curtain. Against the
opposite bulkhead was a very small stove, its brasswork polished to
a high degree. Somewhere between the rest of the space was a
chair which had to be moved whenever the occupant of the cabin
crossed from one side of his personal and private domain to the
other. Even the steel ceiling, coated with cork cement, in a feeble
attempt to prevent "sweating" of the metal, was utilized for a
secondary purpose; from here hung the sub.'s enamelled iron bath.

Being well aft Aubyn's cabin had escaped much of the force of the
explosion, but most of the loose gear had been displaced and lodged
in the angle formed by the sloping floor and bulkhead. Two
photographs in silver frames, their glasses smashed to atoms, lay on
the carpet in company with the sub.'s silver cigarette-case, his watch
and chain and a toilet-case—the latter a present from his
headmaster upon leaving school. That little heap represented
practically the whole of his worldly belongings in the way of luxuries:
he could have stowed the lot inside his sweater.

Yet he did nothing of the sort. Like a man in a trance he stood in

the doorway. Unaccountably the dazed feeling that gripped him
immediately after the ship had received her death-blow took
possession of him again. There he remained, gazing at the scene of
disorder, without stirring a finger to save his treasures, until he was
aroused by Captain Holloway exclaiming:—

"Look alive, Mr. Aubyn. She's going."

Up the companion raced the two officers. The ship was trembling
violently. Air bubbles, escaping through the submerged scuttles,
agitated the water alongside. The whole of the fore-part of the
"Terrier," as far as the base of the after funnel, was under the
waves. It was even a difficult matter to cross the deck from the
companion to the side.

The gig backed. Captain Holloway signed to the sub. to leap; then
giving a last look round he followed Aubyn into the boat.

"Lay on your oars, man," he ordered, after the gig had gone a
hundred yards from the sinking ship.

Standing in the stern-sheets, Captain Holloway waited for the end.

It was not long in coming. With the White Ensign still fluttering
proudly in the breeze, the "Terrier" dipped more and more till ten
feet of the after-part of her keel was visible. For a brief instant the
towering mass seemed to hang irresolute, then with hardly a splash
the hull disappeared from sight, leaving only the after-mast from the
truck to the hounds above the surface.

Raising his hand to the peak of his cap the captain gave his former
command a last salute, then resuming his seat, bade the men "give
way."

All the inhabitants of the village were on the shore ready to offer
hospitality to the crew, many of whom had discarded most of their
clothing before jumping from the ship. One petty officer, three able
seamen, and a stoker were missing—doubtless killed outright by the
explosion. Four men were seriously injured, while a score more were
suffering from wounds and shock.

"Hanged if I can quite realize it," remarked Captain Holloway, as he

walked with Aubyn towards the village. "I remember going down to
my cabin and grabbing a spare cap. There were two drawers in my
locker. In one was fifty half-sovereigns, and in the other over three
hundred pounds in notes. The gold is in my trousers' pocket, but,
although I recollect seeing the notes, I've let the whole lot go to
Davy Jones. Strange, eh? Why, what's the matter with you, man?"

He turned and grasped Terence by the shoulders just in time to

prevent him from falling to the ground in a dead faint.

CHAPTER XV.
VICE VERSÂ.

"Telegram for you, mum."

 Mrs. Aubyn put down her newspaper and took the orange-coloured
envelope which her sister's maid had just brought in on a tray.
Telegrams were rather unusual at "Anchor Cottage," and the
freckled, red-haired girl, with eyes and mouth wide open, stood
consumed with ill-concealed curiosity.

But she was disappointed. Deftly Mrs. Aubyn tore the envelope and
scanned the contents.

"No answer, Jane," she announced, in a steady voice.

Not until the maid had closed the door did the old lady betray the
anguish that the telegram had caused.

"God grant that he is not blinded or crippled for life," she

exclaimed, in low, earnest tones; then she re-read the momentous
words of the telegram in the vain hope that she had not rightly
grasped its significance, and that on second reading the message
might not appear so terribly grim:—

"Regret to have to inform you that Sub-Lieutenant Terence Aubyn,

R.N.R., is lying here seriously wounded."

The telegram was dispatched from Shotley Naval Hospital and bore
the signature of one of the medical officers.

"Seriously wounded," she repeated. "An accident, perhaps. I must

go to my boy."

She had read all the important news in the morning paper. There
had been no mention of a naval engagement, so there could be no
other explanation of how Terence received his injuries. She was
thankful indeed that she had not gone to Portsmouth for the day
with her sister. Thankful, also, that the said relative was not in the
house, for in contrast to the presence of mind displayed by Mrs.
Aubyn, Miss Wilson possessed a highly-strung temperament that
frequently expressed itself in hysterical outbursts.
 Mrs. Aubyn consulted a time-table and then rang the bell.

"Jane," said the old lady in even tones, "I want you to run across
to Smith's and order a taxi to take me to the station at once, to
catch the 9.15 train."

Quickly Terence's mother made her simple preparations. After

dressing for the journey she sat down and wrote a note to her sister,
explaining the reason for her hasty departure, and stating that she
would write the same evening and give full details. Upon second
thoughts she did not enclose the telegram, but placed it in her
handbag. Then, closing the envelope and sealing it with wax, she
gave it to the maid to hand to her mistress on her return.

It was close on four in the afternoon when the train steamed into
Harwich station. Making her way through crowds of bluejackets who
formed the bulk of the passengers, Mrs. Aubyn called a cab and
bade the man drive her to Shotley as quickly as possible.

The cabby looked curiously at her.

"Shotley?" he repeated. "'Tis a long way. It'll cost you a quid, mum
—a sovereign. Couldn't do it for less."

"A sovereign!" repeated Mrs. Aubyn aghast.

"Not a penny less, mum," declared the man, stolidly. The old lady's
hand tightened on her purse. Her means were strictly limited. A
sovereign was to her a large sum. Yet, for her boy's sake——

"Excuse me, madam," exclaimed a deep, pleasant voice.

Mrs. Aubyn turned. The cabby gave vent to an exclamation that,

although inaudible, clearly expressed his views upon "fussy toffs who
interfered with an honest chap's living."
 "Do I understand that you want to go to Shotley?" continued the
stranger, a tall, bearded gentleman in the uniform of a naval captain.

"Yes, to the hospital. My son, Sub-Lieutenant Aubyn, is lying there

seriously wounded."

She spoke bravely, laying emphasis upon her boy's rank. She felt
certain she could enlist the entire sympathy and aid of a brother-
officer, notwithstanding he was a post-captain.

"If you will allow me I will give you a passage in my gig," said the
naval officer. "It is only a short distance by water, but quite twenty
miles from here by land. I fancy that cabby knew you were a
stranger here. My name is O'Rourke—Captain O'Rourke."

Outside the station boys were selling the early evening papers.
Catching sight of the naval officer three or four of them made a rush
towards him.

"Evening paper, sir. H.M.S. 'Terrier' torpedoed and sunk."

He bought a copy, and without attempting to read it thrust it into

his coat pocket.

"When a ship is torpedoed, Captain O'Rourke, are the crew

severely injured?" inquired Mrs. Aubyn.

"A strange question to ask," thought the naval man. He glanced

swiftly at his companion, trying to read an unexpressed thought that
might have prompted her query. Her face betrayed no sign whatever.

"Well, it depends," he answered guardedly. "Unless there are men

below, close to the point of impact, there is generally very little
damage to personnel. The men would undoubtedly feel the effect of
the concussion. When the 'Hogue' and her consorts were torpedoed
the loss of life due to the actual explosion was absurdly small in
comparison to the number of men drowned. Of course, if the
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