Part 26 (1/2)

He was awakened by a seaman shaking him vigorously. For some moments he was unable to realize his surroundings. Sleeping in the hot and almost fetid air had benumbed his brain. He felt fuddled, his eyes seemed strained and dim, his throat burned painfully.

”On deck for exercise,” ordered the man, speaking in German.

Sefton staggered to his feet, feeling stiff and cramped in his limbs.

Leslie was still asleep, and when disturbed took even longer than his brother to be fully aroused.

”By Jove,” thought the sub, ”if the crew are all like this, early morn is the time to catch them napping! Well, here goes.”

The two captives followed their jailer through an oval-shaped hatchway, gaining the deck by means of a steel ladder.

Lounging on the long, narrow platform were more than a dozen men, some stretched upon their backs, others lying with their heads pillowed upon their arms, but in every case one hand was outstretched to grasp the stanchions. The precaution was necessary, for the boat was floundering heavily in the long, sullen rollers.

Instinctively Sefton gave a glance in the direction of the sun. It was now broad daylight. The orb of day, high in the heavens, betokened the fact that it was approaching the hour of noon. By the direction of the shadows cast upon the deck, it was now apparent that the U boat's course was a little east of north. Away on the starboard hand was a seemingly interminable range of frowning cliffs, the nearmost being but two or three miles distant. They were the rock-bound sh.o.r.es of Donegal.

Holding Leslie tightly by the arm, for the lad was not accustomed to the Atlantic swell, Sefton marched him up and down the deck between the after end of the conning-tower and the stern. Although the limited promenade was still further curtailed by the p.r.o.ne bodies of the crew, the latter paid no attention to the two prisoners.

On the platform surrounding the conning-tower was the unter-leutnant who had ordered their arrest. Scanning the horizon with his binoculars, he, too, seemed indifferent to the presence of the two Englishmen. With him, and stationed at a small wheel in the wake of a binnacle, was a quartermaster. The conning-tower hatchway was closed, owing possibly to the spray that literally swept the fore part of the submarine, and was flung high over the domed top of the ”brain of the s.h.i.+p”.

”Where are we now?” asked Leslie.

”Off the Irish coast,” replied his brother.

”Wish one of our destroyers would put in an appearance,” remarked Leslie wistfully.

The sub made no audible reply. His views upon the matter, based upon actual experience, told him pretty plainly that the captain of a British war-s.h.i.+p would not be likely to ascertain whether there were compatriots on board the craft he purposed to destroy. Also, there had been fully authenticated cases of the Huns locking the prisoners down below before they abandoned the sinking s.h.i.+p. Sefton did not mind running legitimate risks in action, but he had a strong objection to being ”done in” by British guns.

His reveries were interrupted by a shrill whistle from the conning-tower. Instantly the somnolent men were roused into activity.

In less than thirty seconds Sefton and his brother were tumbled below, the decks were cleared, and the hatches closed.

By the inclination of the floor of the compartment that served as a cell Sefton realized that the U boat was diving. Almost at the same time there was a m.u.f.fled detonation as a 12-pounder sh.e.l.l, fired from a destroyer at a distance of 7500 yards, exploded immediately above the spot where the submarine had disappeared.

”Good heavens, she holed!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the sub, as the U boat quivered and dipped to an alarming angle. Momentarily he expected to hear, above the rattle of the machinery, the irresistible inrush of water and the shrieks of the doomed crew.

But in this he was mistaken. The nearness of the explosion of the sh.e.l.l had urged upon the submarine's kapitan the necessity for haste.

Thrusting the diving-planes hard down, he caused the U boat to dive with unusual abruptness, never bringing the vessel upon an even keel until she had descended to a depth of twelve fathoms.

The rest of the day was pa.s.sed in utter monotony as far as the prisoners were concerned. Although it was two hours before the U boat dared to expose the tips of her periscopes above the surface, the greater part of the day was spent in running submerged.

Towards evening U99 ascended, and, altering course, stood in pursuit of a small tramp. After a short chase, for the former had the advantage of 15 knots in speed, the submarine approached sufficiently near to be able to fire a shot close to her quarry.

Almost immediately the tramp slowed down and hoisted American colours.

It did not take U99 long to range up alongside, and the unterleutnant and half a dozen seamen proceeded on board.

The prize was a Yankee, bound from Boston to Liverpool with a cargo of warlike stores. According to arrangements, she should have been met and escorted by a patrol vessel; but, although the latter was hourly expected, something had occurred to delay her.

”We'll have to sink you,” declared the German officer.

The ”old man”--a typical New Englander--shrugged his shoulders.