In five minutes the Cerro Algarrobo was on fire fore and aft. Her masts and funnel had disappeared, her topsides were torn by ragged gashes through which lurid flames poured fiercely.
She was still making way, but at a very reduced speed, and showed a pronounced list to starboard.
"Cease fire!"
The pandemonium died down. A tense silence brooded over the destroyers, save for the hiss of escaping steam and the swish of water from their knife-like bows.
Satisfied that the pirate craft had received her quietus, the British destroyers were about to close and lower boats. There were lives to be saved, even if they were those of blood-thirsty pirates. Apart from humanitarian instincts, it was desirable to find out from the survivors the exact particulars of the mysterious buccaneering vessel.
A gun was discharged from the burning Rioguayan cruiser, Whether it was a note of defiance, or merely caused by the flames exploding the charge in a loaded quick-firer was a matter for speculation.
The masthead flashing lamp of the Messines sent out a demand for surrender, with the assurance that quarter would be given to the survivors.
"X G E" (surrender), read out the Chief Yeoman to the signalman, at the key of the flashing lamp, referring to the International Code Manual, "O A H (I will give you)..."
Then he paused and turned inquiringly to the Lieutenant-Commander.
"Beg pardon, sir," he exclaimed, "but there ain't no right letters for 'quarter '. Will this 'ere 'U E V' do?"