Underneath this platform, with the observation holes barely six inches above the back of the curved deck, was the conning-tower. Above was the "navigating bridge," which could be removed if going into action. Here was the slight shelter, called by courtesy the chart-room, and two powerful searchlights.
Immediately abaft the bridge was a light telescopic mast for signalling purposes. Wireless "aerials"--always the bugbear of naval officers while overhead gear was in vogue--had been consigned to the limbo of the past, and receivers in the wireless room "picked up" the messages with unerring fidelity.
Abreast the mast were two seven-pounder automatic guns, protected from Maxim fire by light steel shields forming a complete turret. Abaft the mast, and twenty feet from the guns, were the two 21 in. torpedo tubes, taking an improved Whitehead with an effective range of five miles. From this point was a clear run of deck-space--save for the ventilating cowls and hatchways, that could be respectively unshipped or battened down should occasion arise--to the aft torpedo-tubes.
On the poop turtle-back was the supplementary conning-tower, and another eleven-pounder gun.
"All out" the _Frome_ could do forty-three knots. With her, speed was the primary consideration. To minimise windage every object that it was possible to construct in that fashion was wedge-shaped--even the shafting of the ventilators, while with her after turtle-back deck the destroyer could go astern at twenty-one knots without fear of being swept by the waves. She carried a complement of ninety men, of whom only fifteen were "engine-room ratings."
Gradually the fog lifted, till the outlines of Southsea Beach could be followed almost as far as the mouth of Portsmouth Harbour; and now, with her speed increased to a modest ten knots, the destroyer slipped up the fairway against the surging ebb tide.
Just as the _Frome_ was within a quarter of a mile from the Round Tower, where the entrance of Portsmouth Harbour is barely 250 yds. wide, a burst of sunshine dispersed the last vestige of the fog within the sheltered waters, though at Spithead the haze was as thick as ever.
[Illustration: RIGHT AHEAD CAME A HUGE BATTLE CRUISER. [_Page_ 17. ]