Round we went, clear of the harbour mouth, and heading south as if we were going to run away; but if the people in the Patagonians thought we were going to do so they were jolly well mistaken; it was only to get up full speed and clear to quarters, which we did in a brace of shakes, the men as keen as mustard. Tommy had to go down on deck and take charge of the two for’ard 6-pounders, but Mr. Pattison ordered me to stay on the bridge with him. The helm was put hard a-starb’d, we swung round like a top, and headed straight for them. The destroyers seemed at first to be making straight for us too, but almost immediately turned off to starboard and ran into the little harbour we had just left. The signalman sang out, as they showed their sides to us, that they had no guns aboard, so that explained their flight. We were now rushing down on the cruiser, going at quite twenty knots, and wondered whether she would open fire. We were not long left in doubt, for we were not more than eight hundred yards from her when we saw two little spurts of flame from under her bows, and then more from her fore-top, and the little shells whistled past and burst in the sea behind us. I know I ducked my head, and rather thought Mr. Pattison did so too. Then we began firing from the 12-pounder on the bridge and from Tommy’s 6-pounders as fast as we could, and what with the noise of the guns going off so close to me and the whistling of the enemy’s shells, I felt quite dazed, and it was no use to bob or duck, because the air seemed full of them. Mr. Pattison startled me to life again by sending me aft with a message to the Sub. As I ran down the ladder two holes suddenly appeared in the after funnel, and a cloud of smoke burst out with a roar close to the after steering-shield. I must confess I stopped running, absolutely in a funk, and my legs would hardly hold me up. It was only for a second, though, and I ran aft just as hard as I could. The shelter screen was all bent and twisted, and in front of it were two of the after 6-pounder gun’s crew lying on their faces, and blood was oozing from under them and running along the deck. I just managed to give the message to the Sub, who was bending over them, and then I was horribly sick. I don’t remember how I got back to the bridge, but just as I did so—and now we were not a hundred yards from the cruiser—a shell burst on the fo’c’stle close to the port anchor, and pieces came tearing through the canvas screen round the bridge with a horrid shrieking noise. Looking down I saw that one of the securing chains had been smashed, and that the anchor was now half over the side, hanging by one small chain. Mr. Pattison saw it too, and tumbled down to the fo’c’stle, shouting to me, "Keep her as she is, and run along her starboard side as close as you can go."