"Do you want me to pick up any of your crew, sir? I’ll stand by if you desire it," shouted Captain Restronguet to a solitary figure on the steeply-inclined fore-bridge that the men of the "Aphrodite" recognized as Captain Sedgwyke. "Thank you," replied the captain of the "Topaze." "We have enough room in the boats for the whole of the ship’s company. Do you, sir, kindly take up the work that I had the misfortune to interrupt you in, and may you have better luck." Captain Restronguet gravely saluted the gallant yet ill-fated officer. At the same time, although anxious to set off in pursuit, he was loth to leave the cruiser until every man was saved. "What are you waiting for, sir?" hailed Captain Sedgwyke, his voice barely audible above the hundred different noises emanating from the doomed cruiser, as the water, pouring in, broke down bulkheads, swept buoyant objects ’tween decks in a wild stampede against the partitions, and caused the imprisoned air to escape with a vicious hiss. "I am standing by," replied Captain Restronguet. "You gave a signal for urgent aid, sir." "We thought the ship would sink before the boats could arrive," said the captain of the "Topaze." "There is no danger to life. Our consort the ’Pique’ is on her way to pick us up." Still Captain Restronguet stood by. He was not so sure that the "Pique" might not share the same fate as the "Topaze" since the "Vorwartz," going south, was almost bound to fall in with the British cruiser from Delagoa Bay. Just then the "Topaze" gave a sudden lurch to starboard, heeling so much that the line of men still remaining on board was broken. But only for an instant, it was the unexpected lurch and not panic that caused the seamen to move out of position. Sharply they redressed line--and waited. Boat after boat received its full complement, and pushed off to a safe distance lest the cruiser in her final plunge should swamp them. Not until the last of his officers and men had taken to the boats did the gallant captain descend from the bridge. It was touch and go with him, for to gain the boat he had to wade up to his waist in water that swirled over the steeply sloping decks. "She’s going!" ejaculated Devoran. Heeling more and more the "Topaze" turned completely on end, so that the whole length of her keel plates and her four propellers were out of water. Then, slipping bows foremost, she disappeared from view in a smother of foam, leaving only an expanse of oil and petrol, a few floating pieces of timber and her boats to mark the grave of a splendid cruiser. Twenty seconds after she had disappeared the muffled sound of an explosion--the bursting of the air in one of her compartments--threw up a column of water that almost swamped the nearest boat, the gig in which Captain Sedgwyke had taken refuge. That was the last message from the "Topaze" as she sped to her ocean grave one hundred and eighty fathoms beneath the surface.