The doomed vessel was instantly swept out of existence. The massive, yet graceful, outlines of the cruiser seemed to melt into a hundred thousand fragments, then as the smoke slowly drifted, no trace of the _Independencia_ was visible, only an ominous swirl in the agitated waters as the disintegrated hull plunged to its ocean grave. Appalled by the fate of her consort, the _Restauracion_ turned tail and fled, being joined in her flight by the remaining cruisers, the gunboats being left to their fate. But, satisfied by the moral effect of his victory, Captain Brookes desisted from the pursuit. "We're in a pretty pickle," said Gerald as he joined his friend Stockton. "Partially crippled, and every port closed to us." "Can't they make good the damage afloat?" asked Jack. "Divers could go down, couldn't they?" "If it were merely a matter of replacing the propellers they might, but it's the damaged shafting that will cause all the trouble." "Depend upon it, Captain Brookes will find a way out of the mess," replied Stockton, reassuringly. "The only thing that puzzles me is what he will do should we be overhauled by a British cruiser. If he keeps to his word he won't open fire on her, and if he attempts to run away he'll be overhauled. That's a moral certainty." [Illustration: The doomed vessel was instantly swept out of existence. The massive outlines of the cruiser seemed to melt into a hundred thousand fragments.] "Well, let's hope we shan't be put to the test," said Tregarthen. "But, by George, didn't the shell which hit us knock up a dust? It simply swept the charthouse and bridge away like brown paper. That means that all the steering will have to be done from the conning-tower until we find time to make good the damage. But stand by--here comes the captain." Captain Brookes, however, passed them without apparently noticing their presence. He seemed intent upon some great problem, and, lost in thought, he descended the companion ladder and entered his cabin. "What's the course, Mr. Slade?" asked Gerald of the navigating lieutenant. "We're going to fall in with the Chilian fleet next," was the reply. "More pulverising?" "I cannot say; captain's orders," replied Lieutenant Slade, laconically. At two bells in the first dog-watch the Chilian fleet was sighted, but the victory was an easy, bloodless one. By means of the Z-rays the fleet was demoralised, and thereupon a signal was sent to Admiral Zaetos's flagship, informing him of the fate of the _Independencia_. On learning that the _Olive Branch_ was no myth, the Chilian admiral consented to return to Iquique to await further instructions from the President, and an hour later the _Olive Branch_ was alone on the vast Pacific. "Now to get the damage made good," remarked Captain Brookes, cheerfully. "Have you ever put into Talcahuano, Mr. Tregarthen?" "No, sir."