There was nothing that could be done for her until after the battle, at any rate, and the others left her to her fate. Drifting as she was, the Marlborough continued her fire; and of a sudden she put a shot aboard the Lutzow in a vital spot.
The Lutzow blew up with a terrible roar. The crew of the Marlborough cheered and waved their hands to their companions on the other British ships.
Apparently this was more than the German admiral had bargained for. With his whole second squadron intact and the British apparently helpless, he had thought to crush these few ships before aid should reach them; and then, if the approaching British were not too formidable, to offer them battle also.
Now there were only three British ships in line—the Lion, the Queen Mary and the Indefatigable—and these were really not fit nor able to continue the fight.
But the men fought on doggedly. None of the others had thought of surrender and no such idea entered the head of a single man aboard any of the British ships. Help was at hand and then the Germans would get the thrashing of their lives, the men told themselves. They would keep the Germans busy until this help arrived.
Hardly a man aboard the Queen Mary that had not been wounded. Sweat poured from their faces, hands and body as they continued to fight their guns; and as they fought they shouted and yelled encouragement to one another.
"Boom!"
There was a different tone to this deep voice and every man on board the hard pressed British ships knew what it meant.
The first ship of the main British fleet had come within range and had opened with her biggest gun.
Other new voices took up the challenge and within a few moments the roar of battle was at its height once more.