ngside arose in a mound,
and she seemed to lean away from it; then the mound burst, and out of
it, and spouting from funnels, ventilators, and ports, came a dense
cloud of smoke, which mingled with the steam and hid her from view,
while a dull, booming roar, barely distinguishable in the noise of
battle, came across the water. When the cloud thinned there was nothing
to be seen but heads of swimming men, who swam for a time and sank. The
flag-ship had been torpedoed.

But the torpedo-boat followed her. Pursued by the mouse-colored
destroyer, she circled around and headed back in the endeavor to reach
her consorts; but she had not time. Little by little the avenger crept
up, pounding her with small shot and shell, until, leaking from a
hundred wounds, she settled beneath the surface. She had fulfilled her
mission; she was designed to strike once and die.

No armored cruiser may withstand the fire of a battle-ship. The
_Lancaster_, leading the _Argyll_, received through her eight-inch
water-line belt the heavy shot and shell of the _Moscow_ and _Orenburg_.
Nine- and eleven-inch shell fire, sent by Canet and Hontoria guns, makes
short work of eight-inch armor, and the doomed _Lancaster_ settled and
disappeared, her crew yelling, her screws turning, and her guns firing
until the water swamped her. The following _Argyll_ scraped her funnels
and masts as she passed over.

Eight hundred feet back in the line was the _Beaufort_, armored like
the _Lancaster_. Her ending was dramatic and suicidal. Drilled through
and through by the fire of the _Riga_, she fought and suffered until
the _Lancaster_ foundered; then, with all guns out of action, but with
still intact engine-power, she left the line, not to run, but to ram.
The circle was narrowing, but she had fully four minutes to steam
before she could reach the opposite side and intercept her slayer. And
in this short time she was reduced to scrap-iron by the concentrated
fire of the _Warsaw_, _Riga_, and _Kharkov_. Every shot from every gun
on the three battle-ships struck the unlucky cruiser; but in the face
of the storm of flame and steel she went on, exhaling through fissures
and ports smoke from bursting shells and steam from broken pipes.
Half-way across, an almost solid belching upward and outward of white
steam indicated a stricken boiler, and from now on her progress was
slow. She was visibly lower in the water and rolled heavily. Soon
another cloud arose from her, her