They were standing silently and outwardly were calm, but from the way in which they looked at me I noticed that they were all possessed by some undefined feeling of fear, as well as of expectation and hope. They appeared to believe, or to wish to believe that I was still able to issue the necessary order which would save them, and so they waited. But what order could I give? I might advise them to go below--to take cover under the armoured deck and await their fate, but this they could have done of their own accord. They wanted a different order, for they still felt themselves indispensable to the fight, if it were to be continued. These “tempered” men were just the men we wanted. And to me, indeed, it seemed useless as well as cruel to shatter their belief--to stamp out the last spark of hope--to tell them the hard truth--to say, in fact, that it was of no use our fighting, and that all was over. No! I couldn’t! On the contrary, I was filled with a desire to mislead them--to feed that flame of hope. Rather let them die in the happy consciousness of victory, life, and glory, coming perhaps in a few moments. As already said, the place where the church was usually rigged[22]--and which the doctor had (so unluckily) selected for his temporary dressing station--had been fairly fortunate, but now, abaft the centre 6-inch turrets, the fire had commenced to make its way. Proceeding thither, we set to work dragging away the burning _débris_, extinguishing it, or throwing it overboard through the huge holes in the ship’s side. Finding an undamaged water-main and a piece of a hose (without a nozzle), we worked quietly and in earnest. We extinguished some burning furniture, but alongside it, behind the thin, red-hot, steel partition separating us from the officers’ quarters, another fire burst forth, whose roar could at times be heard even amidst the noise of the battle. Occasionally a man fell wounded, and either lay where he was, or got up and walked or crawled to the ladder leading below. No attention was paid to him--What mattered it? one more, one less! How long we were thus employed--five, ten, or fifteen minutes--I do not know, but suddenly the thought occurred to me, “The conning tower--what is happening there?”