And indeed such was the case. When the great ship staggered there was a terrible roar, louder than the loudest peal of thunder. Ensued a greater panic than before aboard the German vessel.
No longer did men fight for the boats. No longer did they heed the cries of their officers to stick to the ship and die like true German sailors. Instead, they rushed for the rails and threw themselves into the sea in scores. Several times officers rushed in between them, but they were hurled aside. It was every man for himself now, and finally the officers gave up the attempt to check the panic.
As the sailors continued to leap into the sea, the officers congregated on the bridge, gathering about a tall figure, apparently the German commander.
And at length, besides these officers, there was not a man to be seen aboard the battleship. Then the commander raised his hand in a commanding gesture. A dozen of the score of officers left him and threw themselves into the sea after the sailors.
Another command from the German captain and others left his side, though plainly more reluctantly. This continued until, besides the commander, there were but two men left.
“His first officers, I suppose,” Frank muttered to himself.
Again the German commander gesticulated angrily. The others argued back. The commander stamped his foot. One of the officers laid a hand on his arm. The commander shook it off.
“They want him to go along,” said Frank, who had already explained the situation to Lord Hastings and the others within hearing.
“They are wasting time,” said Lord Hastings. “I know these German naval commanders.”
Frank peered across the water again.