ng straight for them, they swerved away until they were
heading almost due east, as though even now anxious to defer the evil
moment as long as possible. But they must speedily have recognised the
impossibility of escape, for now, with carefully-cleaned furnace fires
and a full head of steam, our ships were racing along through the
fast-rising sea at a speed which would enable us to rapidly overhaul the
chase, notwithstanding that they were plunging until they were buried to
the hawse-pipes, and their fore-decks were smothered with spray.

The two fleets were now running upon converging lines, the enemy, about
a point before our port beam, steering east, while we were steering
east-north-east, and visibly gaining as the minutes slipped by. At last
it looked as though the fight could no longer be delayed, and a thrill
of excitement passed through me as I now began to fully realise that I
was about to take part in a great naval battle, fought under modern
conditions in ships protected by ponderous plates of steel armour and
furnished with all the most modern engines of destruction. What would
such a battle look like, and how would it end? Meanwhile the day was
passing, and although the two fleets had been within sight of each other
for more than two hours, nothing had thus far been done.

Both fleets were now steaming in single line ahead, the battleships
leading, and the cruisers following closely, the Russian fleet being
slightly ahead and steaming surprisingly well, considering the condition
of their ships, though we were rapidly overhauling them.

Five bells (half-past two o'clock) in the afternoon watch pealed out,
and at the same moment the _Asama_ and _Yakumo_ received orders to haul
out from the fleet and heave-to, holding ourselves ready to deal with
any enemy ships which might attempt to break back toward Port Arthur.
So we were not to be allowed to take part in the fight, after all! It
was positively heart-breaking, and for a moment I felt inclined to
imitate Nelson at Copenhagen and turn a blind eye to the signal, but the
sight of the _Asama_ promptly sheering out from the line brought me to
my senses. I knew that poor Yamada would be just as bitterly
disappointed as myself; yet there he was, obeying the order with the
same promptitude that he would have displayed had he been ordered to
attack the enemy single-handed. I nodded--rather savagely, I am
afraid--at Arisaka, the Commander, who was regarding