_Glasgow's_ seamen, admitted, "shooting very well." We have last seen the _Cornwall_, not wholly to her liking, upon the quarter of the even slower _Carnarvon_; but, a little after noon, to her great satisfaction, she had received orders to go ahead. When the three light cruisers had broken to the south in their endeavour to escape, she had turned after them, as we have said, with her sister ship, the _Kent_, in the wake of the nimbler _Glasgow_. Now, thanks to the _Glasgow_ and the superhuman efforts of their two engine-room staffs, both the _Kent_ and _Cornwall_ were at last in action, the former being ordered in pursuit of the _Nürnberg_--where we may leave her for a moment performing imperishable conjuring-tricks in the way of stoking and engine-driving, while her luckier consorts, already at close grips, were battering the _Leipzig_ to pieces. At twenty minutes to five, a shot from the _Cornwall_, at a range of between four and five miles, carried away her foremast; but, ten minutes later, after delivering a broadside, and as she was being hit herself, the _Cornwall_ drew away a little. The _Leipzig_ had now lost one of her funnels as well as being on fire aft, many of her guns being already silenced; but at six o'clock she was still firing well enough to hit the _Cornwall_ severely and once more to force the latter away a little. This was only for a moment, {77} however, the _Cornwall_ reopening with lyddite shell at a quarter past six, and now pressing her attack home with tremendous force and accuracy to a range of less than three miles. In this the _Glasgow_ joined her--it being obviously useless now to hunt for the _Dresden_ miles away in the mist--and, by ten minutes to seven, the _Leipzig_ was on fire everywhere, though her flag was still flying and her guns occasionally responding. The two British cruisers then stopped firing for a little, but dared not draw near for fear of a torpedo-attack. Blazing in every corner, with her sides red hot, and with great gaps in her torn by the lyddite, it seemed now that every moment must be the _Leipzig's_ last; but still she floated and would not strike her colours. Fire was again reopened, therefore, although, as one of the _Cornwall's_ officers said, "We all hated doing it," and, half an hour later, she sent up a couple of rockets signifying that she surrendered and asking for help. What her condition was then has been vividly described by Private Whittaker of the Royal Marine Light Infantry. "When we went right close," he wrote to his mother, "she looked just like a night-watchman's fire bucket, all holes and fire." Searchlights were now playing upon her through the rain and darkness, but, in view of possible explosions, the boats could not approach too near; out of her crew of over three hundred, less than a score were saved; and, at just about nine o'clock, she rolled over to port, seemed to recover a moment, and then slipped out of sight.