tiller of
the little steamer, which was consequently yawing wildly about. The
remainder of her crew were in the well abaft the boiler, some lying
huddled up on the floor, while others hung loosely, like half-empty
sacks, over the launch's bulwarks, their arms trailing in the water.
Indeed it appeared as though the _Blanco Encalada_, by a lucky fluke,
had concentrated her whole fire upon that one devoted craft. For a
moment it appeared as though the little steamer, with her crew of dead,
would still effect her purpose, for the torpedo was still intact at the
end of its spar, and the launch was heading straight for the battleship;
but just at the last moment the corpse of the helmsman was jerked from
the tiller by the motion of the sea, and the launch's head immediately
fell off a point or two. She rushed past the _Blanco Encalada's_ bows,
missing them by no more than a few feet, and a few minutes later a
deafening report from the shore told those on board the flagship that
the torpedo-launch had rushed at full speed upon the rocks, thus
exploding her torpedo and blowing herself to pieces.

The second launch, which had been steaming about a hundred yards astern
of her consort, had miraculously escaped that whirlwind of shot, and
now, seeing the fate of her consort, she described a wide circle, and
headed away to the north-west, out of the bay, at full speed. In a few
minutes she would be beyond the circle of light thrown by the flagship's
brazier of fire, and would be in safety; but she was not to escape so
easily. The _Blanco Encalada's_ gunners carefully laid their machine-
guns on the craft, and opened a furious fire upon her. The rattle of
the Nordenfeldts sounded like a continuous roar of thunder, and the
stream of fire from their muzzles itself illuminated the darkness of the
night with a fitful glare.

The gunners got the range almost immediately, and those on board the
flagship could see that the water was lashed into foam round the launch
by the pelting rain of missiles. There was no escape from that iron
hail, not even for those desperate members of the crew who dived
overboard, for the men of the _Blanco_ made a target of every face that
appeared upon the surface of the water.

Then the end came, suddenly and dreadfully. A bullet must have passed
in advance of the launch and struck the torpedo itself, for the
onlookers saw a dazzling burst of whitish-blue flame, which was followed
by a deafening, stu