‘The boat comes to the surface, the galley hatch is opened. A torrent of water rushes down; never mind, we shall have to swim for it directly, anyhow. Now the way is clear to the surface. The steamer is about 25 hms. (2734 yards) away, and firing as fast as she can. “You haven’t got us yet--not by a long way!” The guns quickly reply. Any result? The telescopic sights are still in the flooded conning-tower. The M.A.N. motors are quickly started--much more quickly than is permissible, but when all is staked on one card there is no help for it. All the men who are not occupied below are bringing up supply ammunition. The sub-lieutenant suddenly feels his feet blown away from under him, and staggers through a cloud of smoke against the gun. Poor fellow, he has probably had both legs shot away. But no, only a few small splinters--nothing more! The shell passed between the legs of the foremost gunlayer, the drum of his ear was perforated by the report, and there are some lumps and holes in the ready ammunition. The shells pass through, close to the men; they look like black specks in the air just before they fall. One of the railing supports is shattered. A Leipzig man is standing in the stern at the hand-wheel, steering calmly by the verbal directions of the navigating warrant-officer--the compasses can no longer be used. ‘The telescopic sights can now be recovered from the conning-tower. There is a report, “Destroyer to starboard.” Quite right. She is proceeding on a parallel course at 80 hms. (8750 yards) and the fire of her four guns mingles with that of the tank steamer. A destroyer like that has a speed of over 30 knots, and carries 4-inch guns. ‘“On lifebelts!” Below the horizon, in a S.S.E. direction, there must be a sailing-vessel; we sighted one this morning. Perhaps the boat may be able to reach her, so as to save the crew from a _Baralong_ fate. ‘The guns’ crews have become so deaf from the noise of their own guns that it is only possible to direct one gun by verbal orders. The decoy ship is now so far away that there is no further need to fire at her. Open fire on the new foe then! This is not a destroyer, however, but a “submarine-destroyer” of the _Foxglove_ class, about twice the size of the submarine, but no faster. At the same moment the second-engineer reports that he can repair the damaged conning-tower, and our hopes soar as far as neutral Spain.