Unswervingly the Independencia kept her course; the Frome settled down to the same rate, and kept her station at less than eight hundred yards on the cruiser's quarter. Four more shots came from the British destroyer, then she ceased firing, holding doggedly on to the chase. The prominent positions occupied by the pirates' hostages rendered shell fire upon the Independencia out of the question, and Juan Cervillo knew that for the time being he held the whip hand.
But the tenacious dogging of his vessel by the British destroyer was a serious business. Unless pursuit could be shaken off, the Frome, by the aid of the wireless, would bring a cordon round the modern buccaneer long before she had done anything like the damage she wished to do. Already, no doubt, other warships were steaming under forced draught to settle accounts with the filibustered battle-cruiser. The Frome must be put out of the running.
It was now half-an-hour after sunset. The horizon was quite uninterrupted, grey sea met grey sky in an unbroken line, and the outlook promised dirty weather on the morrow.
Having satisfied himself that no other vessel was in sight, Cervillo descended from the after-bridge and entered the conning-tower. An order to the quartermaster made that worthy put the steam steering-gear hard over, and as the Independencia swung round at right angles to her former course, one of the quick-firers let fly a plugged shell.
Cervillo's idea was merely to cripple the destroyer by sending a non-explosive shell through her engine-room. He was very chary of going to extreme measures, not that he was averse to committing murder, but he had a wholesome respect for the British Navy. The partial disablement of the Frome would give him another start in his piratical career. But unfortunately Cervillo's action had far more disastrous effect than he had anticipated.
The missile sheared its way through the thin steel plating of the destroyer like an arrow fired through a sheet of brown paper. It struck one of the cylinders of the motors, fracturing it into fifty pieces. The petrol caught fire, and, leaping in a cascade of flame, ignited the main tanks in the double bottom.
The motors stopped spasmodically. The engineer-lieutenant and his staff had barely time to rush through the small manhole and gain the deck ere the 'midships section of the ill-fated Frome was a mass of flames. With the utmost discipline the crew lowered the remaining boats, and, deeply laden, they pushed off, leaving Drake, the gunner, and about a score of the crew clustered for'ard. Luckily the destroyer kept head to wind, which, in a manner, preserved those on the fo'c'sle from being slowly roasted to death.
Horror-stricken, Cardyke watched the enactment of the tragedy. By the glare of the burning petrol, that shot skywards to a height of over one hundred feet, he could see the boats, deeply laden, lying on their oars, and the knot of brave men gathered around their rash but intrepid commander.
Suddenly there was an explosion as the sea burst through the heated plating. The pillar of flame died out, stifled in the cloud of smoke and steam, but the burning petrol floating on the water, spread in all directions, spurts of fire rising and falling intermittently till darkness and the increased distance hid the awful scene from the midshipman's view.