Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-03-18
charge is over and the ships are firing stern

charge is over and the ships are firing stern
guns.
Only three mnutes-and at the end of
that time one British battleship, the Illus
trfous, and four foreign battleships. the
Italia, the Francisco Morosimi the Lepanto
and the Admiral ship, are no longer there
seven minutes later and nine more foreign
battleshfps. with three more British, sink
without receiving further injuries. Some of
the crews of these last are afloat In boats.
Two of the six British ships in tatters
and SIX of the enemy In tatters, still float.
Hardy slowly opens his eyes, leaps to his
feet, looks around and orders his helm to
starboard; for there is wide clear space
about him. He is told, in reply, that it is
impossible to keep steam, as the water is
rising in the stokeholds.
This only means that he cannot ram
again not that the fight is quite over for
him. The Royal Sovereign creeps weaTily
round; yonder to the northwest is Il still
reeking ship the SfaX, hardly moving; and
like dying lion. intent upon dealing a last
rent to his enemy. the Royal Sovereign.
trailing her wounded stern. drags herself
painfully forward upon the Sfax
The ships are alone, and the combat
dreadful because almost stationary, lasts
five minutes. Neither is fiji fer fight. yet
neither will strike colors. The rain Of
shells clash midway IN the air and
burst III unison, as if with clapping
hands, and grand hurrahs of fame
and sound. The ships near; and sud
denly cries Hardy: Helm hard to port
hands prepare to board" And as the sfax
discharges d LAST broadside at nothingness
the high bow Of the Royal Sovereign creeps
forward upon her quarter; there is a small
crash and mutual shudder of the meeting
ships; and the next moment, Jack, with
Hardy at his head. is sWarmiug, cutlass in
hand, with nimble impetuosty, into the
enemys aft upper deck. The feat is un-
expected; the Frenchmen vince and die;
in moment the British tar Is everywhere,
and his touch is rough. A whlte-faced
commodore PUSHES past Hardy on the main
deck, crying: We yield. yield,'
The stern Of the Sfax sways and Wobbles
a little; she feels the suction of the Royal
Sovereign which has quietly sunk beside
her
Hardy stills the tumult orders the French
flag to be pulled down, and leaps to the
coming tower. He looks abroad with keeny
curious eyes over the sea Around him is
a great duh roar. and the air Is all of / hin
smoke. No human brains can now altogether
divine. much less direct, the vast drama
that is still progressing. Far away, be-
yond the ken of vision. the battle is ia ging
between meeting cruisers, between torpe-
does and -torpilieurs, between shot
and she'll ram and barbette, In lncalculable
hurry -burly., But through all this con-
fusion there has run, and runs, thread
of plan. on at least one side Hardy, as
far he can see, Is well content. He
waits and waits, with wildly throbhlng
heart for the appearance of his three bat
tleships.
AS for himself. he is prisoner. The
Sfax has neither screw, nor rudder. nor
boat
At last they come. hurrying from the
eastward where they have been delayed
by sinking the greater part of the enemy S
troopsiips-in line abreast Hardy signal
man has been busy among the French flags,
and when they approach within a thousand
wards of the Sfax, summoned by steam
siren lie signals them to destroy or cap
tnre first the five dismantled battleshlps
which remain.
And with this order the battle Is nearly
over: the mere apparition of the fresh
shins has all but won It. There is a re-
newed energy of firing which lasts from
four to five minutes. And then a gradual,
and finally deathly. silence grows upon the
dun air and the calious green sea-surface;
and night at last descends.
ITO he continued tomorrow