Ceaselessly his gaze circled the fleet; constantly, uncomfortably, he twisted in his chair.
Finally he climbed down, passed through the gate and went into the Captain's shelter.
Vallery had no light on and the shelter was in semi-darkness.
He lay there on his settee, a couple of blankets thrown over him. In the half-light, his face looked ghastly, corpse-like.
His right hand clutched a balled handkerchief, spotted and stained: he made no attempt to hide it.
With a painful effort, and before Tyndall could stop him, he had swung his legs over the edge of the settee and pulled forward a chair.
Tyndall choked off his protest, sank gracefully into the seat.
"I think your curtain's just about to go up, Dick...
What on earth ever induced me to become a squadron commander?"
Vallery grinned sympathetically. "I don't particularly envy you, sir. What are you going to do now?"
"What would you do?" Tyndall countered dolefully.
Vallery laughed.
For a moment his face was transformed, boyish almost, then the laugh broke down into a bout of harsh, dry coughing.
The stain spread over his handkerchief.
Then he looked up and smiled. "The penalty for laughing at a superior officer. What would I do?
Heave to, sir.
Better still, tuck my tail between my legs and run for it."
Tyndall shook his head.
"You never were a very convincing liar, Dick."
Both men sat in silence for a moment, then Vallery looked up.
"How far to go, exactly, sir?"
"Young Carpenter makes it 170 miles, more or less."
"One hundred and seventy." Vallery looked at his watch. "Twenty hours to go, in this weather.
We must make it!"
Tyndall nodded heavily.
"Eighteen ships sitting out there, nineteen, counting the sweeper from Hvalfjord, not to mention old Starr's blood pressure..."
He broke off as a hand rapped on the door and a head looked in.
"Two signals, Captain, sir."
"Just read them out, Bentley, will you?"
"First is from the Portpatrick:
'Sprung bow-plates: making water fast: pumps coming: fear further damage: please advise.'"
Tyndall swore.
Vallery said calmly:
"And the other?"
"From the Gannet, sir.
'Breaking up.'"
"Yes, yes.
And the rest of the message?"
"Just that, sir.
'Breaking up.'"
"Ha I One of these taciturn characters," Tyndall growled. "Wait a minute, Chief, will you?"
He sank back in his chair, hand rasping his chin, gazing at his feet, forcing his tired mind to think.
Vallery murmured something in a low voice, and Tyndall looked up, his eyebrows arched.
"Troubled waters, sir.
Perhaps the carriers------"
Tyndall slapped his knee.
"Two minds with but a single thought.
Bentley, make two signals.
One to all screen vessels, tell 'em to take position-astern-close astern, of the carriers.
Other to the carriers.