The Austrians had had the best of it all through the fight, another ironclad, the _Palestro_, had been blown up, the other three, with which Petz had been engaged, were badly hurt, and now this last disaster broke the Italians and sent them in full flight to Ancona. The battle was won! Admiral Tegethoff summoned his captains to the flagship, and when they were all drawn up on the quarterdeck, he went up to Petz, kissed him on both cheeks, and said: “This is your victory!” The _Kaiser_ was naturally very much mauled, but the wooden ship had scored; she had practically disabled two other ironclads and battered a third before sinking the _Ré d’Italia_, and could carry her wounds bravely into port. Long years afterwards at luncheon at the Travellers’ Club, I was telling the story as I had it from Admiral Petz himself. My dear old friend, Lord Alcester, the famous admiral, who was nothing if not stiff in opinions, stoutly denied the possibility of a wooden ship in any circumstances sinking an ironclad; but “Facts are chiels that winna ding And downa be disputed,” the _Ré d’Italia_ with her crew of six hundred lies at the bottom of the Adriatic, the _Kaiser_ came away a cripple covered with glory, and her gallant Commodore received the Maria-Teresien order—a distinction even more rarely bestowed than the V.C. To earn it three conditions must be fulfilled—the feat must have been performed at risk of life; it must have been spontaneous, without any superior command, and it must be successful. It was good to hear the brave sailor tell his tale, simply and without any suspicion of vainglory. He would not admit that he had done anything wonderful. He saw death before him as he stood on the bridge—a sudden idea flashed across his brain—Impossible? Why not try? That was all. * * * * * On the 1st of January, 1870, I left Japan. The work of the last two years had told upon me. I was out of health, and had almost to be carried on board ship by our good Doctor Willis. I went to Singapore, and there awaited the arrival of the Messageries ship _Hoogly_, which was to bring my friend and colleague, Gustave de Montebello, who afterwards, as Ambassador at St. Petersburg, initiated the _entente_ between France and Russia, which was destined to bear fruits which now, in 1915, are ripening to their full value. A month of the _dolce far niente_ at Singapore, a life of lotus-eating, resting in a luxurious rattan chair, breathing in a balmy, spice-laden atmosphere on a verandah broad enough to protect me from any insidious attacks of the sun, set me quite on my legs again, and by the time my friend arrived, I was as lively as a thrush, and ready to enjoy the delights of a voyage with one of the most agreeable of companions, both of us hungry for home, and yet full of the memories of our past experiences.