It was quite late at night when the forecastle, at last, was still. Six bells had sounded when the banjo was put back into its case and the crew turned in. An hour after that, Rudolf Stork was pacing the lower deck---a silent, shadowy figure in the moonlight, moving in and out among the derricks and the hatches. Jimmy Burke, lying upon his bunk at the entrance of the forecastle, watched the man for a long time, wondering what were the dark thoughts that Rudolf Stork could share with no one; and when, at last, the boy fell asleep, the ship's carpenter was still striding to and fro, like some restless, evil spirit.
The boy was awakened suddenly by the shrill note of the boatswain's whistle. One after the other, close upon each other's heels, the crew tumbled out upon the well-deck. Simultaneously, the voice of Captain Crouch rang out, so loud as to be audible from one end of the ship to the other.
"Every man at his alarm post! Have the boats ready to be lowered; we may have need of them before we are much older. Mr. Dawes, spare every man you can to work in the engine-room like a nigger. If we can manage to squeeze fifteen knots out of the old ship, there'll be just a dog's chance that we escape."
Jimmy waited to hear no more, but, springing from his bunk, hastened out upon the deck.
A group of men was standing upon the main-deck immediately beneath the bridge, many of whom were pointing excitedly towards the east. It was dawn; and although the sun had not yet risen, the first signs of daybreak were clearly visible upon the horizon. The sea itself looked black; in the sky, a few stars still glimmered faintly. Upon the eastern sky-line extended a long belt of silver, in the immediate centre of which there could be seen a thin trail of smoke. Captain Crouch was on the bridge, with a large telescope raised to his only eye.
For the first five hours of that memorable day, the excitement that prevailed on board the "Harlech" was intense. Every one went about his work in breathless haste. Mr. Dawes shouted his orders like a madman. From time to time, the chief engineer appeared on deck to report progress from the engine-room. Every pound of coal that it was possible to throw into the furnaces would tend to increase the ship's speed, if--as Captain Crouch believed--the trail of smoke upon the far horizon came from the funnels of the "Dresden."
By eight o'clock, there was no doubt whatsoever that it was the German cruiser herself that they had sighted. A little after, it was evident that the "Dresden" was giving chase. From the well-decks only her smoke was visible, but this was rapidly growing more and more distinct. Crouch remained upon the bridge, his telescope glued to his eye; and from that altitude no doubt the hull of the German warship was visible.
Presently, from the direction of the enemy, there came a dull booming sound that died away across the great expanse of water, like the rolling sound of a monster drum. It had hardly ceased before there became audible a shrill, piercing hoot, not unlike a human shriek, that became louder and louder with alarming rapidity.
There was no need for one of the crew who had taken part in the South African War to cry out that a shell was coming. Every one on board knew what that sound meant. Following a not unnatural curiosity, every man rushed to the taffrails, to see what would be the result. There was a loud, and almost unanimous, shout of "There she goes!" as the shell plunged into the water about two hundred yards from the starboard side of the ship, sending a great savage fountain high into the air.
By then, the "Harlech" was steaming almost due south. Her course had been changed at daybreak, when the "Dresden" had been sighted immediately ahead. The first shell, which was marvellously accurate as far as direction was concerned, must have passed immediately over the mast-head of the merchant ship.