By the time that the young midshipmen had been satisfactorily warmed, and their clothing had been dried, the ship's surgeon consented to their dressing. After this they were led to a private cabin where a satisfying meal was served them.
"Oh, I don't know," murmured Dan, leaning back, with a contented sigh, after the meal was over; "there are worse things than what happened to us to-day!"
The greater speed of the liner enabled her to sight the battleship squadron something more than two hours afterward. Then the nearest vessel of the fleet was steered for directly.
The deck officers of the liner sent their heavy overcoats for the use of the midshipmen, who, enveloped in these roomy garments, went out on deck to watch the pursuit of their own comrades.
Within another hour it was possible to signal, and from the "Princess Irene's" masthead the signal flags were broken out.
"Now, watch for excitement on board your own craft," smiled the liner's commander, an Englishman.
As soon as the liner's signal had been read by the vessels of the squadron a wild display of signal bunting swiftly broke out.
"Heaven be thanked!" read one set of signal flags.
"We have officially buried the young men, but ask them to go on living," read another.
While the most practical signal of all was: