No doubt we should always be prepared for the unexpected, but the fact remains that we very seldom are. In this case, the voice of Captain Crouch carried from one end of the ship to the other, bringing a sudden ray of hope into the heart of every man that heard it, that was like a flash of light in a darkened room.
Every living soul on board--including the ship's carpenter himself--had already given himself up for lost. The "Harlech" was apparently in a sinking condition, and under the continual and merciless fire of the enemy cruiser. They were miles from anywhere, in the very midst of the ocean; and it had seemed as if nothing could save them from a watery grave, or, at least, captivity. And suddenly, the intelligence was burst upon them that the ship might yet be saved. The crew had been ordered to return to the pumps. The unexpected had occurred.
Now, curiosity is a very natural sentiment that at times overcomes even the strongest impulse. For the moment, Stork forgot that he was on the point of committing murder; Jimmy Burke, that his life was in the greatest peril. Without a thought for one another, both rushed out upon the well-deck, to learn what had happened.
The "Harlech" still listed so much that the decks sloped at an angle of almost twenty degrees. It was then afternoon, though the sun was still high. The "Dresden" lay to the north-east, her great guns sounding in quick succession, like peal after peal of thunder immediately overhead. Though the shells still shrieked through the rigging, or burst their way through the fragile sides of the ship, all eyes were turned towards the south, in which quarter Captain Crouch upon the bridge was directing his enormous telescope. Jimmy, regardless of his danger, dashed up the steps that led to the forecastle-peak, and shading his eyes against the glare of the sun, looked in the same direction.
It was some moments before he was able to make out anything at all; and then, suddenly, he discerned quite clearly the funnels--from each of which proceeded a thin trail of smoke--of three separate ships that appeared to be advancing in line, steaming forward with rapidity and making straight for the "Dresden."
Suddenly, Captain Crouch tucked his telescope under his arm, and shouted to Stork, who was still upon the well-deck, to take charge of the party that was again working at the pumps. And hardly had the words left his lips than from the south there came a heavy thudding sound that was like a thunder-clap in the distance, and a few seconds later, a great shell screamed immediately overhead, to send up a fountain of water several feet into the air, not more than forty yards from the "Dresden's" bows.
A loud cheer was lifted by the crew of the "Harlech"--the men who saw on a sudden, as if newly awakened from a nightmare, that deliverance was, indeed, at hand. For yonder, bearing straight in their direction, the tolling of the great guns echoing across the sea, were three ships of the British Navy, racing towards the enemy like as many joyful greyhounds loosed together from the leash.
They were indeed three greyhounds of the sea: the "Glasgow," the 27-knot cruiser that had escaped from the fatal fight off Coronel, when the "Monmouth" and the "Good Hope" went down before the weight of the German guns; the "Kent," which had run down and sunk the "Leipzig"; and the "Invincible," the splendid armoured cruiser--the first of its kind--whose twelve-inch guns had sent to the bottom the "Scharnhorst" and the "Gneisenau," to avenge the death of Cradock. These were ships that had been tempered in the stern forge of warfare, that had been tried and not found wanting; even then, they had come from a great victory in the south. As they swept down upon the foe, there was something in the outline of their dark and threatening hulls, in the very smoke that issued from their funnels, that made them appear, in very truth, invincible and ruthless.
One after the other, in quick succession, their great guns opened fire, until the sound was deafening, and it was as if the broad waters were alive. Everywhere were great living fountains in the sea, and around each one the water was churned white as snow.
The "Dresden," which was completed in the year 1907, had been built with the idea of speed, and was but lightly armed. She carried only ten four-inch guns and two torpedo-tubes, and with these she could not hope to put up a fight against such a powerful adversary as the "Invincible." In an old, time-worn phrase, she questioned not the order of her going, but, putting her helm about, fled like a startled roe at very sight of those who had marked her down.