the shock of
the ram, trembled from stem to stern, and began to settle quickly by the
head. Before she had time to sink the _Ithuriel_ had shaken herself
free, swung round in half a curve, and ripped the port quarter of the
_Chanzy_ open ten feet below the water line. Then she charged the
_Bruix_ amidships and nearly cut her in half, and as the _Charner_
steamed up to the rescue of her stricken consorts her screws dragged her
back from the sinking ship and her stern ram crashed into the
Frenchman's starboard side under the foremast, and in about a quarter of
an hour from the delivery of the mysterious attack the four French
cruisers were either sunk or sinking.

It would be almost impossible to describe the effect which was produced
by this sudden and utterly unexpected calamity, not only upon the
astounded invaders, but upon the defenders, who, having received the
welcome tidings of the tremendous disaster which had befallen the French
Expedition at Portsmouth, were expecting aid in a very different form.
Like their assailants, they had seen nothing, heard nothing, until the
French cruisers suddenly ceased fire, rolled over and disappeared.

But a few minutes after the _Charner_ had gone down, all anxiety on the
part of the defenders was, for the time being, removed. The _Ithuriel_
rose to the surface; her searchlight projector turned inshore, and she
flashed in the Private Code:

"Suppose you have the news from Portsmouth. I am now going to smash
destroyers and sink transports if they don't surrender. Don't
shoot: might hurt me. Get ready for prisoners.
ERSKINE, _Ithuriel_."

It was perhaps the most singular message that had ever been sent from a
sea force to a land force, but it was as well understood as it was
welcome, and soon the answering signals flashed back:

"Well done, _Ithuriel_. Heard news. Go ahead!"

Then came the turn of the destroyers. The _Ithuriel_ rose out of the
water till her forward ram showed its point six feet above the waves.
Erskine ordered full speed, and within another twenty-five minutes the
tragedy of Spithead had been repeated on a smaller scale. The destroying
monster rushed round the transports, hunting the _torpilleurs de haute
mer_ down one after the other as a greyhound might run rabbits down,
smashed them up and sank them almost before their officers and crew had
time to learn what had happened to th