The terrible drama was brought to a close by the surrender of Admiral Nebogatoff's ships, on Sunday afternoon, off the rocks of Liancourt. The next morning the world stood thunderstruck as it heard of the utter annihilation of Russia's proud fleet. Six battle-ships, five cruisers, and many other smaller vessels sunk, and two battle-ships, with several defence ships or destroyers, _captured_. It was this last item that was most significant. Even Spain had gone down fighting, on the coast of Cuba and off Manila, under the withering fire of Dewey, Sampson, and Schley; for the first time in modern warfare a battle-ship, nay, two of them, had run up the white flag. Truly Russia, haughty Russia, which "never carried to the front material from which to make a flag of truce," had been humbled in the dust. And in the Winter Palace of Tsarskoe-Selo the pale young Czar was weeping. CHAPTER XXVII. ORDERED HOME. "Ow-yow!" yawned Midshipman Robert Starr in the wardroom of the _Osprey_. "I'm tired of this dodging back and forth between two fires, with no chance for a slap at either of them. We might have got up a good scrap over Junk, here," he added, patting the Newfoundland's broad head, and looking reproachfully at Liddon. The dog yawned, as if in sympathy with the young officer, and stretched himself at full length on the deck, his paws under the mess-table. "You're teaching our coloured friend bad manners, Bob," laughed the ensign, giving Junk a playful push with his foot. "Get up, there, you old peripatetic door-mat, and muster on the forecastle. There's no room for yawners down here." "I consider that remark personal," retorted Bob, as he rose. "I'm going to--" Here he was interrupted by the entrance of a marine, who announced that the captain wished to see his officers in the after cabin. "What's up now, I wonder?" said Staples, leading the way to the commander's quarters. "Oh, another wildly exciting cruise to Woosung or Chemulpo, or Chefoo, or some other old Che," sighed Starr. "I never was very fond of cheese, anyway!" When they entered the cabin their undignified deportment was laid aside. Rexdale's eyes were sparkling. He evidently had important and pleasurable news to communicate. "Gentlemen," said he, "I have just received orders from the Department. The _Osprey_ is to change her station once more." Bob groaned softly, under his breath. "This time," continued Dave, "our port of destination is not Cavite or Shanghai. We are to sail due east. We are ordered home!" Every officer sprang to his feet. "Hurrah!" shouted Bob, forgetful alike of dignity and discipline. "I beg your pardon, sir," he stammered, the blood rushing to his cheeks; "but that's grand news! If the Secretary were here I'd hug him!"