The "Numancia" was evidently ashore on the East bank. Her fore and mainmasts were gone, and clouds of dark smoke were lazily ascending from her forecastle. Suddenly, the whole ship seemed to burst into a sheet of flame, there was a deep explosion, the air was filled with flying fragments, and a blackened hull was all that was left of the proud man-of-war.
The "Arapiles," about two miles further out to sea, was making a gallant defense against three strange vessels. Two, lying at short range on her quarters, were pouring in a fearful fire; the third, which had evidently been engaged with the "Numancia," was rapidly bearing down upon her, apparently intending to ram.
Who could the strangers be?
The flags which floated from their mast-heads bore a strong resemblance to our own, yet they were not the stars and stripes; for the stripes were replaced by but two broad bands of red and white, and in the blue field there was but a single star.
"Chili, by Jove!" ejaculated some one in the signal station.
He was right.
The new-comers were the "Huascar," the "Almirante Cochrane" and the
"Blanco Encelada," the three armored vessels of the South American
Republic.
It was the "Huascar" which was now bearing down upon the "Arapiles."
Suddenly, the Chilian monitor was seen to slacken her speed and change her course.
She no longer meant to ram; the necessity had ceased. At the same time, the other Chilian vessels ceased firing.