Seeing no ships but the little ones, the Russian admiral lost no time in going forth to meet the enemy. At once the Japanese warships retreated, but did it so slowly that the Russian ships were led on and on, until they were about fifteen miles out to sea. As soon as this was accomplished a wireless message to the big Japanese ships was forwarded, and they at once put on all steam, to get behind the enemy, and thus cut the Russians off from the harbor, in which case they would no longer have the aid of the land batteries, and would have to face, in the open sea, a force considerably larger than their own.
The plan was well laid and would have succeeded had it not been for a sudden change in the weather. Quite unexpectedly a stiff breeze sprang up, blowing the mist away. As soon as the sun began to peep through the clouds the Japanese warships trying to get behind the Russians were discovered, and Admiral Makaroff at once signaled to his fleet to return to the harbor with all speed.
Disappointed at being unable to surround his enemy, Admiral Togo put on all steam and went in pursuit and then began a chase such as has not been seen since Admiral Cervera was followed by our own warships from out of Santiago harbor. Back for Port Arthur went the Russian vessel, battleships, cruisers, and all, steaming as they had never steamed before.
In coming out of the harbor the Russian ships had carefully avoided the numerous mines planted there. But they knew little about the Japanese torpedoes placed to do them harm, and without warning the Petropavlovski came upon one of these.
A dull report was heard, and a great cloud of greenish-white water and smoke arose in the air. Then, as the big battleship was seen to lurch to one side, came another report, louder than the first, and once more the water flew in all directions, while this time a heavy cloud of black smoke arose in the air, mingled with wreckage and the forms of officers and sailors.
An instant later the battleship gave another lurch, swayed unsteadily for a moment, and then burst into flames from stem to stern. As the horrified onlookers gazed at the spectacle the ship swayed again, turned over on her side, and then, with a strange hissing and roaring, disappeared beneath the waves, carrying her gallant admiral and over six hundred officers and sailors with her.
For the time being there was utter confusion in the Russian squadron and the other vessels scarcely knew what to do. One ship, the Poltava, put out several small boats and succeeded in saving seven officers, seventy-three sailors, and also the Grand Duke Cyril, who chanced to be on board.
The Russian squadron was now close to a place of safety, but their troubles were not yet over. Only a few minutes later, a mine exploded close to the side of the Pobieda, tearing a great hole in the battleship. But as good fortune would have it, this explosion failed to set off any of the magazines, as had been the case with the flagship, and with her bulkheads tightly closed, the crippled vessel managed to get to her anchorage without further mishaps.
The loss of the great battleship Petropavlovski was a great blow to Russia, and when the news of the disaster reached that country everybody went into mourning. Many officers of reputation happened to be on board of the ship when she sank, and some of the bodies have never been recovered. It may be mentioned here that the battleship also had on board the famous Russian artist, Verestchagin, well known the world over for his war paintings. Just before the first explosion came he was seen on the deck, sketch-book in hand, making a pencil drawing. It was his last bit of work, for he went down with the ship.
“That must have been a horrible sight,” said Gilbert, to Ben, when they were discussing this bit of news. “Think of the hundreds of officers and sailors that were drowned.”