If the captain had now continued his course he would probably have reached Alexandria in safety. But he wished to avoid the delay, which would have been considerable, and the entreaties of the passengers, who, greatly excited, begged him to remain near the scene of action, coincided with his own wishes.
Accordingly the Caledonia slackened speed, and took up a position to the south-east of the field of battle, whence she could make for Brindisi or Alexandria as soon as the result was decided.
For some time neither side gained the advantage. The Chanzy and Royal Arthur had turned broadsides to each other and fired, but the effect was not visible from the Caledonia.
Suddenly the Royal Arthur began to move in a northerly direction, firing upon the enemy from her stern-guns.
“It almost looks as if he meant to help the O’Hara,” said Heideck to Edith, who was standing by his side with a field-glass. “The gunboat is clearly no match for the Forbin, and has perhaps been hopelessly damaged.”
In fact, the Royal Arthur continued her course northwards, maintaining an incessant fire upon the Chanzy and the destroyer, which still kept on the watch in the rear, and made for the Forbin, on which she immediately opened fire with her bow-guns.
As the scene of action thus shifted further and further north, the captain of the Caledonia resolved to turn westwards again. It did not seem advisable to call at Malta, but assuming that the Royal Arthur could hold the French ships for a considerable time, he might fairly hope to reach Brindisi, his original destination.
But the course of events disappointed his hopes. A ship was reported ahead, which proved to be the Arethuse, bearing down straight on the Caledonia. To avoid meeting her the captain immediately headed northwards. This brought the Caledonia closer to the scene of action than had been intended, so close that a British shell, discharged at the destroyer lying to the east, flew over the low French vessel, and fell into the sea right before the bows of the Caledonia, raising great jets of water.
A few seconds later the French destroyer moved rapidly in the direction of the Royal Arthur, and the passengers of the Caledonia, and all the sailors on the now more restricted field of operations, witnessed a fearful sight. The destroyer had seized the right moment to attack, and from one of its tubes had launched a torpedo with splendid aim against the enemy. In the centre of the Royal Arthur, just above the water-line, a tiny cloud of smoke was seen, and then a large column of water spurting up. At the same time a dull, loud report was heard that shook the air for a considerable distance round and drowned the thunder of the guns.
It looked as if the cruiser was being torn asunder by the hands of giants. The enormous hull split in two. Slowly the prow leaned forwards, the stern backwards. Immediately afterwards both parts righted themselves again, as if they would close up over the gaping breach. But this movement only lasted a few seconds. Then the weight of the water rushing in drew the gigantic hull into the depths. The Royal Arthur sank with awe-inspiring rapidity. Now only her three funnels were seen above the surface of the water; a few minutes later nothing was visible save the top of the mast and the top-pennants hoisted for battle. Then a mighty, foaming billow rose on high, and only the breaking of the waves marked the spot where the proud cruiser lay.
The guns had ceased firing, and deep silence reigned on all the ships. The passengers were paralysed by overwhelming horror. The captain ordered all the boats to be launched to go to the assistance of the crew of the Royal Arthur. The Chanzy also was seen to be letting down boats. The O’Hara fled, to avoid falling into the hands of the superior French forces, and withdrew from the scene of action in an easterly direction, pursued by the Forbin, which sent shot after shot after her. If the captain of the Caledonia had abandoned all idea of flight, he was not only following the dictates of humanity, but obeying the signals of the destroyer, ordering him to bring to. He knew that there was no longer any chance of escape for the steamer entrusted to his care, since the shells of the Royal Arthur had ceased to threaten the enemy.
The struggles of the unhappy men, who had reached the surface from the gloomy depths, and were now making desperate efforts to save themselves, presented an affecting sight. Those who could not swim soon went under, unless they succeeded in getting hold of some floating object. Every second more of the numerous heads, which had been seen above the water immediately after the sinking of the cruiser, disappeared, and there was no doubt that the crews of the boats, though working heroically, would only be able to save a small part of the crew.
Meanwhile the commander of the Chanzy’s gig lay to at the gangway of the Caledonia. The first officer, with four marines and a non-commissioned officer, boarded the steamer and saluted the captain with naval politeness.
“I greatly regret, sir, to be compelled to inconvenience you and your passengers. But I am acting under orders, and must ask you to show me your papers and to allow me to search the ship.”
“It is yours to command, as things are,” replied the Englishman gloomily.
He then went down with the Frenchman into the cabin, while the non-commissioned officer remained with the soldiers on the gangway. The proceedings lasted nearly two hours, during which the work of rescuing the crew of the Royal Arthur was continued unremittingly. A hundred and twenty soldiers and sailors and five officers, besides the commander, were saved. Most of the officers and crew were lost.
Unusual steps were taken to secure the prize. The captain, with the first and second officers, was taken on board the Chanzy. The first officer of the Chanzy took command of the ship, and two lieutenants and fifty men were transferred to the Caledonia. These precautions were sufficiently justified by the great value of the cargo. According to the ship’s papers, the Caledonia carried no less than 20,000,000 rupees, some in specie, others in silver bars, consigned from Calcutta to England. The French commander was naturally very anxious to take so valuable a cargo safely to Toulon.
A further triumph fell to the lot of the French. The British gunboat, flying the tricolour in place of the Union Jack, was brought back to the scene of action by the Forbin. All four French ships accompanied the two captive vessels on the voyage to Toulon—full steam ahead.
XXIV
THE ADVENTURES OF THE CALEDONIA
The passengers of the Caledonia were in a state of hopeless dejection and violent exasperation. An attempt was made to throw the blame of their misfortune on the unpardonable carelessness of the responsible military authorities, rather than attribute it to an accident that could not have been reckoned upon.
“Here we have another striking example of English lack of foresight,” said Mr. Kennedy. “The idea of allowing the Caledonia to travel without protection! Think of all the men-of-war lying idle at Bombay, Aden, and Port Said! And yet nobody thought there was any occasion to send one or more of them to escort this splendid ship, with nearly a thousand Englishmen on board, and a cargo worth more than a million. Had our commanders no suspicion that the French ships were so near?”
“Our commanders relied upon there being enough English ships cruising in the Mediterranean to prevent such enterprises,” said the General.
But this excuse was not accepted, and bitter were the reproaches hurled at the English way of managing the war. When night came on the majority of the passengers, utterly exhausted by the exciting events they had gone through, retired to their cabins. But Heideck remained on deck for some time, cooling his heated forehead in the delightful night breeze. The squadron quickly pursued its course through the gently rushing waves, the position of each ship being clearly defined by the sidelights. On the right was the Chanzy, on the left the Arethuse, in the rear the Forbin and the O’Hara, manned by a French crew. Nothing could be seen of the destroyer. At length Heideck, tired of hearing the regular steps of the French sentries pacing up and down the deck, went down to his cabin. He was soon asleep, but his rest was broken by uneasy dreams. The battle, of which he had been a spectator, was fought again. His dreams must have been very vivid, for he thought he heard, without cessation, the dull roar of the guns. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in his narrow berth. Was it a reality or only a delusion of his excited senses? The dull thunder still smote on his ear; and, having listened intently for a few moments, he jumped up, slipped on his clothes, and hurried on deck. On the way he met several passengers, who had also been woke by the report of the guns. As soon as he reached the deck, he saw that another violent naval engagement was in progress.