"Good!" said Jack, quietly. "I was afraid we would have to stand off and look on."
"That's what I was afraid of, too," declared Frank.
"Well, we won't," said Lord Hastings. "Not this time, at any rate. I guess you will see all the fighting you wish presently."
Still the German squadron came on, apparently unconscious of the presence of the British battleship Canopus, the only English vessel that could be seen from the open sea. All seven ships—five vessels of war and the two colliers—could be plainly discerned now.
"What's the matter with 'em?" demanded Frank. "Surely they can see the Canopus."
"I guess they are figuring she hasn't spotted them yet," said Jack. "Believing he has only one enemy to contend with, Admiral von Spee evidently is trying to get as close as possible without being seen."
Indeed, this seemed a plausible explanation. At any rate, in lieu of a more reasonable one, it answered. Men on the Canopus now rushed hurriedly to and fro, officers darted hither and thither. The Canopus was ready for instant battle.
All the other ships of the British fleet also had come to life. Men who had been sleeping hurried to their posts. The gun crews stood at their places, the range finders were at their posts, and the officers stood ready to repeat the signal for advance as soon as Admiral Sturdee should give it.
Stripped to the waists, in spite of the chilly atmosphere outside, the crew of the Sylph also was ready. There was grim determination written plainly on the face of every man. In spite of the apparent superiority of the British fleet, each man realized that the battle would be to the death.
They knew that, although surprised, the Germans would not give up without a struggle—that they would battle desperately for supremacy although outnumbered. Confident of their own prowess and marksmanship, they nevertheless did not discount the ability of the foe.