"We're hard hit, sir," Manderson reported.

"Every man for himself, now?
Orders, sir ?" "My orders are, every man back to his post!" cried the Master, his voice a trumpet-call of resolution.

"There'll be no _sauve qui peut_, here!" He laid a hand on the butt of his pistol.

"Back, every man of you!" Came another dull, jarring explosion.

_Nissr_ reeled to port.