and the Don is overhauling her hand over fist. We shall be there just in time to see the fun."
The America's course is converging toward that of pursuer and pursued. Capt. Meade's keen eyes are alternately riveted on the Spanish warship and the unknown vessel.
"If that steamship did not set so low in the water," he remarks, thoughtfully, "and was going about two-thirds faster, I should say that she was our old friend, the big black yacht Semiramis. But—great heaven! The steamer is sinking! That's what's the matter with her! She is steadily settling!"
All eyes on the cruiser are now directed toward the crippled stranger. She is, as Capt. Meade says, slowly sinking while yet the waters are dashing on either side of her bow like mountain streams.
"A game struggle, but all in vain," is the comment of the captain, shaking his head. "Probably the Spaniard hulled him below the water line early in the struggle, and he has been slowly making water ever since. He can't last much longer. The water must be near the fires now. Ah! I thought so!"
For the strange steamer has apparently lost headway. The black smoke that a moment before poured from her chimneys now mingles with a white cloud of steam.
"Her fires are out," Capt. Meade explains to Ashley. "She will go down in twenty minutes, if she doesn't blow up before."
The boom of a heavy cannon startles the watchers and they turn quickly to the Spanish man-of-war. A curling wreath of smoke from her forward deck tells the origin of the report, and their eyes return to the sinking vessel. A puff of wind lifts for a moment the flag hanging limp at her masthead, as if in mute defiance of the Spanish shot. Capt. Meade starts as if he had received an electric shock.
"The American flag!" he thunders, "and fired on by the Spaniard!" Then to the executive officer: "Signal for the forced draught and bear down on the steamer. We will pick up her boats and then investigate the outrage on the flag."
