For answer, Lord Hastings stepped aside and motioned the lad to his place at the periscope. Frank, turning the wheel over to a sailor, sprang forward quickly. And here is what he saw:
A short distance to port, a huge German battleship was slowly sinking by the head. Fully half a hundred great searchlights—the eyes of the many other German ships of war—played upon the sinking vessel now, lighting her up like day. Movements aboard the sinking vessel were plainly visible to Frank.
Men rushed hither and thither in the greatest confusion, and while Frank could hear no sounds there below the water, there was every indication of shouts and cries of panic and of fright.
An officer rushed aft and sought to maintain some semblance of order among the members of the crew who were seeking to get a small boat over the side at that end of the ship. A German sailor struck him down with a blow of his fist and returned to his place at the boat.
Men struggled frantically. The German officer picked himself up and drew a revolver; then advanced again upon the sailors. One sprang forward, but fell sprawling upon the deck. No sound came to Frank, but he knew that the German officer had fired.
One, two, three others of the struggling sailors now fell before the revolver of the infuriated German officer; the others gave back. Frank saw the man gesticulating angrily; and the sailors fell to getting the boat over in a more orderly manner, apparently more afraid of the officer who confronted them with leveled revolver than they were of the imminent danger of the ship going to the bottom.
Forward, aboard the German battleship also were signs of confusion. There, too, officers had their hands full in attempting to maintain discipline. Several times one of their number fired into the faces of the crowd of sailors.
Suddenly the great German ship staggered visibly and a dull roar carried to the ears of those aboard the D-17.
“Explosion,” Frank explained to those behind him.
“Fire aboard must have reached her magazine,” said Lord Hastings.