One morning, soon after daybreak, they sighted a British torpedo-boat-destroyer, racing due northward, travelling at a speed of almost thirty knots an hour. The destroyer, evidently wishing to speak to the "Harlech," which was not, of course, equipped with wireless apparatus--drew to within a cable's length of the steamer, when the commander shouted through a megaphone to Captain Crouch, who was on the bridge.
"Have you heard the news?" he asked.
"What news?" asked Crouch. "We've seen no papers since we left New York, more than a week ago."
"Admiral Sturdee has thrashed the German squadron off the Falkland Islands. The 'Gneisenau,' the 'Scharnhorst,' the 'Leipzig,' and the 'Nuremburg' have been sunk; but the 'Dresden' managed to escape, and is believed to have come this way."
"I've seen nothing of her," answered Crouch.
"Do you know what she looks like?" asked the commander.
"Sure enough," said Crouch. "Protected cruiser, of about three thousand five hundred tons. Speed about twenty-four and a half. Two masts and three funnels--a trifle forward. Sister ship to the 'Emden.' Completed in 1908."
"That's her," shouted back the officer. "Sorry you haven't seen her. Good-bye, and good luck. Look out for enemy submarines," he added, "when you get into the Channel."
A moment later, the destroyer was flying on its way, cutting through the water at such a velocity that the spray was sent high into the air, to form a kind of rainbow in the sunshine immediately above her bows.
The news of the defeat of Admiral von Spee's squadron was received with delight by the ship's officers and crew of the "Harlech." That evening, for the first time during the voyage, a banjo made its appearance on the forward well-deck, and there were songs, not unconnected with the fact that England had been in the past, and would continue to be in the future, the sole mistress of the seas. Throughout these quite excusable rejoicings, it was a fact--that passed unnoticed by every one, except by Jimmy Burke--that Rudolf Stork held himself aloof, standing apart from the others, with his bare arms folded and never a smile upon his lips. Jimmy hoped that the man's surly manner would be noticed by the captain, upon whom as a rule little or nothing was lost. But Crouch paced the main-deck, with both hands behind his back, lost in thoughts of his own and a veritable cloud of the black smoke of "Bull's Eye Shag."