T. B. struggled into his clothing, and, with some difficulty, made his way to the bridge. Van Ingen was already before him. As he climbed the little steel ladder, he heard the engine-bell ring, and instantly the rattle and jar of the engines ceased.
T. B. Smith
"She's stationary," explained the officer, "so we've stopped. She has probably upset herself in this sea."
"How do you know she is stationary?" asked T. B., for the two faint stars ahead told him nothing.
"Got her riding lights," said the other laconically.
Those two riding lights stopped the destroyer; it stopped six other destroyers, far out of sight, six obedient cruisers came to a halt, and, a hundred miles or so away, the combined French and German fleets became stationary.
All through the night the watchers lay, heaving, rolling, and pitching, like so many logs, on the troubled seas. Dawn broke mistily, but the lights still gleamed. Day came in dull greyness, and the young officer, with his eyes fastened to his binoculars, looked long and earnestly ahead.
"I can see a mast," he said doubtfully, "but there's something very curious about it."