By this time the flotillas had again passed each other. But on turning once more to renew the fight, Captain Asai found that the enemy had had enough of it. They were steaming full speed ahead towards the harbour. The order was given to pursue; but the Russians had obtained too great a start to permit of their being overhauled before gaining the protection of their cruisers and shore batteries. The pursuit had necessarily to be abandoned, and the Japanese commanders turned their attention to making good the damage sustained during the action.
The full results of this spirited forty minutes' engagement were not known on board the Kasumi until some time afterwards. Near the entrance to the harbour two of the Russian destroyers were intercepted by the second Japanese flotilla. The Russians, battered as they had been, showed no lack of courage. There was a short, sharp fight, during which one of the boats slipped past the enemy and got away. The second, however, the Stereguschitshi, was not so fortunate. She fell a prey to a Japanese destroyer, and was taken in tow. But she was leaking badly; the tow-rope was snapped like a thread of cotton by a heavy sea, and, left to her fate, the Stereguschitshi went down.
Meanwhile the three vessels of Captain Asai's division lay for about an hour with only steering-way on, until the extent of their injuries should have been ascertained and as far as possible repaired. On the Kasumi two compass-boxes had been damaged, part of the fore-bridge carried away, one funnel breached, the chart-room almost entirely wrecked; but the most serious injury was the shattering of the steam-pipe, throwing one engine out of action. The other two vessels stood by while some repairs were being made; it was not safe to leave the Kasumi to face alone the risk of the appearance of the Russian cruiser squadron. The work was barely completed, indeed, when two cruisers, the Bayan and the Novik, the latter flying Admiral Makaroff's flag, steamed out of Port Arthur and ran down towards the three destroyers. But at the same moment a forest of military masts appeared on the horizon: the Japanese fleet was evidently coming up in support; and the two Russians, fearful of being cut off, retired, fighting at long range with the leading Japanese cruisers until they ran in under shelter of the forts.
"Another bombardment coming off?" said Bob to Yamaguchi, as the splendid battle-ships went by.
"Perhaps. The flagship is signalling us."
"What are the signals?"
"Nothing important; the admiral merely says he is satisfied with us."
The flush of pleasure was not on Yamaguchi's cheeks, but on Bob's. He remembered the historic "Well done, Condor!" and felt a sympathetic glow.
The battle-ships steamed past, and took up a position whence they could neither see the Russian vessels nor be seen by them. Depending on high-angle fire from their twelve-inch guns, they sent shell after shell into the town and harbour, the effect of their shots being signalled by wireless telegraphy from the cruiser squadron stationed round the point. The bombardment lasted for nearly four hours, during which several outbreaks of fire were seen in the town, and a distant explosion announced that a magazine had been blown up. There was but little reply from the Russians, and about two o'clock Admiral Togo, having accomplished his immediate purpose, retired, accompanied by the cruiser and destroyer squadrons.
Two hours later Yamaguchi was signalled to go aboard the flagship. It was blowing hard at the time, and seas were sweeping the deck of the Kasumi, tossing her about, and rendering the launching of her boat a matter of no little difficulty. By the time the little lieutenant reached the Mikasa he must have been drenched through and through.