that he was not even
conscious of the foolhardy intrepidity with which he risked it at every
step.

Majestic and powerful, sending forth death-dealing flashes from her
turrets and portholes, the Wittelsbach had hitherto proceeded on her
way, not heeding the wounds which the enemy's shot had inflicted in her
hull. An almost thankful feeling for the glorious ship which carried him
arose in Heideck's breast.

"You do honour to the great name you bear," he thought. Through
smoke and steam he looked up at the conning-tower, where he knew the
Prince-Admiral was. Then he saw it no more, for suddenly a thick, black
cloud overspread his eyes. He had only felt a slight blow in his breast,
but no pain. He tried to lift his hand to the place where he had been
hit, but it sank powerlessly. It seemed as if he were being turned round
in a circle by an invisible hand. Thousands of fiery sparks shot
up suddenly from the dark cloud--the night closed completely round
him--deep, impenetrable night, and still, solemn silence.

Major Hermann Heideck had found a hero's death.

. . . . . . .

A torpedo-boat that had been summoned by signal hurried up at full
speed to the Admiral's flagship which was lying on her side. A broadside
torpedo had struck the Wittelsbach; and although there was no fear of
her sinking, it was impossible for operations to be directed from her
any longer.

Regardless of the danger it involved, the Prince-Admiral had himself and
his staff transferred by the torpedo-boat to the Zahringen, on which his
flag was at once hoisted.

. . . . . . .

The progress of the engagement had hitherto been favourable to the
German fleet to a surprising extent. Its losses were considerably less
than those of its numerically far superior enemy, and its ships, with
few exceptions, were still able to fight and manoeuvre. But as yet,
considering the strength of the ships still at the enemy's disposal,
it was too early to speak of a decision in favour of the German fleet.
Although the clever manoeuvre of the German squadron had frustrated the
intended attack of the English, and inflicted very considerable losses
upon them, it might still be possible for Sir Percy Domvile to atone for
his mistake and to bind the capricious fortune of war to his flag.

The same frightful scenes which Major Heideck had witnessed on board
the Wittelsbach had also taken place on the other German battleships
and cruisers. Blood flowed in rivers, and, if