The Sylph came back to her course as if by magic, and once more rushed toward the enemy. Several miles to port, could now be seen the faint outline of the approaching British battle cruiser, sailing swiftly, under full steam, as though she were afraid she would not arrive in time to take part in the battle. "Full speed ahead!" came the order from the Sylph's commander, and the little craft leaped forward in the very face of her two larger enemies. A shell from the Goeben, which was nearer the Sylph than her sister ship, crashed into the very mouth of one of the Sylph's 8 inch guns, blowing it to pieces. Men were hurled to the deck on all sides, maimed and bleeding. Others dropped over dead. An officer hurriedly reported the fact to Lord Hastings. "We'll get even with her," said His Lordship grimly. "Give her a shot from the forward turret." In spite of the tragedy enacted before his eyes only a moment before, the British gunner took deliberate aim. "Boom!" There was silence, as all watched the effect of this one shot. "Right below the water line," said Lord Hastings calmly. "A pretty shot, my man." By this time the Gloucester had come within striking distance, and her heavy guns began to breathe defiance to the Germans. But the Breslau and the Goeben had no mind to engage this new enemy, and quickly turned tail and fled. Lord Hastings immediately got into communication with the captain of the Gloucester by wireless. "Pursue the enemy!" was the order that was flashed through the air. The two British ships sped forward on the trail of the foe. But the latter made off at top speed, and in spite of the shells hurled at them by their pursuers, soon outdistanced the Gloucester. The Sylph, however, continued the chase and was gradually gaining, although, now that the battle was over for the time being, the strain on the little cruiser relaxed. Wounded men were hurriedly patched up by the ship's surgeon and his assistants, and the dead were prepared for burial. Jack and Frank approached Lord Hastings on the bridge. The latter was talking to his first officer. "They must be the Breslau and Goeben," he was saying, "though I am unable to account for the manner in which they escaped the blockade at Libau. They were supposed to be tightly bottled up there and I was informed that their escape was impossible." "Something has evidently gone wrong," suggested Lieutenant Hetherington. "They probably escaped by, a ruse of some kind," said Jack, joining in the conversation. And the lad was right, although he did not know it then. The two German ships, tightly bottled up, even as Lord Hastings had said, in Libau, had escaped the blockading British squadron by the simple maneuver of reversing their lights, putting their bow lights aft and vice versa, and passing through the blockading fleet in the night without so much as being challenged. This is history.