Another terrific explosion drowned her voice. The German cruiser suddenly sprang into a brilliant sheet of flame, seemed to leap in the air, then disappeared.
The calm waters of the Pacific closed over her. She was gone.
Shirley and Mabel held their breath in speechless amazement. It seemed to them incredible that such a great ship could have been sent to the bottom in such a short time.
“The poor sailors!” exclaimed Shirley. “I hope they will all be saved.”
“They won’t be,” declared Captain Anderson, who had come up and now stood among the others. “With my glass I saw the commander on the bridge a moment before the ship went down. He has gone with her, and so, probably, have most of his officers.”
He lifted his cap from his head, as did the passengers.
“It’s a terrible thing, this war,” continued the Captain. “How many went down I do not know; but how many of those who did knew what they were fighting for? Not many.”
Meanwhile the little lifeboats of the Yucatan were helping the crews of the British cruiser pick up the survivors. The work went on with the utmost haste, for there were many who could not swim.
Fortunately most of those who had jumped just before the explosion were saved. These were all taken aboard the British cruiser, and a short time later the British commander came aboard the Yucatan.
Shirley and Mabel looked with some awe at this British sea fighter. He seemed a veritable hero in their eyes. Once on deck, he strode toward Captain Anderson with quick steps, his carriage erect.