Toward morning, I must have
dozed, though it seemed to me
at the time that I had lain awake
for days, instead of hours. When
I finally opened my eyes, it
was daylight, and the girl's
hair was in my face, and she
was breathing normally. I thanked
God for that. She had turned
her head during the night so
that as I opened my eyes I saw
her face not an inch from mine,
my lips
almost touching hers.
It was Nobs who finally awoke
her. He got up, stretched, turned
around a few times and lay down
again, and the girl opened her
eyes and looked into mine. Hers
went very wide at first, and
then slowly comprehension came
to her, and she smiled.
"You have been very good to
me," she said, as I helped her
to rise, though if the truth
were known I was more in need
of assistance than she; the circulation
all along my left side seeming
to be paralyzed entirely. "You
have been very good to me." And
that was the only mention she
ever made of it; yet I know that
she was thankful and that only
reserve prevented her from referring
to what, to say the least, was
an embarrassing situation, however
unavoidable.
Shortly after
daylight we saw smoke apparently
coming straight
toward us, and after a time we
made out the squat lines of a
tug--one of those fearless exponents
of England's supremacy of the
sea that tows sailing ships into
French and English ports. I stood
up on a thwart and waved my soggy
coat above my head. Nobs stood
upon another and barked. The
girl sat at my feet straining
her eyes toward the deck of the
oncoming boat. "They see us," she
said at last. "There is a man
answering your signal." She was
right. A lump came into my throat--for
her sake rather than for mine.
She was saved, and none too soon.
She could not have lived through
another night upon the Channel;
she might not have lived through
the coming day.
The tug came close beside us,
and a man on deck threw us a
rope. Willing hands dragged us
to the deck, Nobs scrambling
nimbly aboard without assistance.
The rough men were gentle as
mothers with the girl. Plying
us both with questions they hustled
her to the captain's cabin and
me to the boiler-room. They told
the girl to take off her wet
clothes and throw them outside
the door that they might be dried,
and then to slip into the captain's
bunk and get warm. They didn't
have to tell me to strip after
I once got into the warmth of
the boiler-room. In a jiffy,
my clothes hung about where they
might dry most quickly, and I
myself was absorbing, through
every pore, the welcome heat
of the stifling compartment.
They brought us hot soup and
coffee, and then those who were
not on duty sat around and helped
me damn the Kaiser and his brood.
As soon as our clothes were
dry, they bade us don them, as
the chances were always more
than fair in those waters that
we should run into trouble with
the enemy, as I was only too
well aware. What with the warmth
and the feeling of safety for
the girl, and the knowledge that
a little rest and food would
quickly overcome the effects
of her experiences of the past
dismal hours, I was feeling more
content than I had experienced
since those three whistle-blasts
had shattered the peace of my
world the previous afternoon.
But peace upon
the Channel has been but a
transitory thing
since August, 1914. It proved
itself such that morning, for
I had scarce gotten into my dry
clothes and taken the girl's
apparel to the captain's cabin
when an order was shouted down
into the engine-room for full
speed ahead, and an instant later
I heard the dull boom of a gun.
In a moment I was up on deck
to see an enemy submarine about
two hundred yards off our port
bow. She had signaled us to stop,
and our skipper had ignored the
order; but now she had her gun
trained on us, and the second
shot grazed the cabin, warning
the belligerent tug-captain that
it was time to obey. Once again
an order went down to the engine-room,
and the tug reduced speed. The
U-boat ceased firing and ordered
the tug to come about and approach.
Our momentum had carried us a
little beyond the enemy craft,
but we were turning now on the
arc of a circle that would bring
us alongside her. As I stood
watching the maneuver and wondering
what was to become of us, I felt
something touch my elbow and
turned to see the girl standing
at my side. She looked up into
my face with a rueful expression. "They
seem bent on our destruction," she
said, "and it looks like the
same boat that sunk us yesterday."
"It is," I replied. "I
know her well. I helped design
her
and took her out on her first
run."
The girl drew
back from me with a little
exclamation of
surprise and disappointment. "I
thought you were an American," she
said. "I had no idea you were
a--a--"
"Nor am I," I replied. "Americans
have been building submarines
for all nations for many years.
I wish, though, that we had gone
bankrupt, my father and I, before
ever we turned out that Frankenstein
of a thing."
We were approaching
the U-boat at half speed now,
and I could
almost distinguish the features
of the men upon her deck. A sailor
stepped to my side and slipped
something hard and cold into
my hand. I did not have to look
at it to know that it was a heavy
pistol. "Tyke 'er an' use 'er," was
all he said.
Our bow was pointed straight
toward the U-boat now as I heard
word passed to the engine for
full speed ahead. I instantly
grasped the brazen effrontery
of the plucky English skipper--he
was going to ram five hundreds
tons of U-boat in the face of
her trained gun. I could scarce
repress a cheer. At first the
boches didn't seem to grasp his
intention. Evidently they thought
they were witnessing an exhibition
of poor seamanship, and they
yelled their warnings to the
tug to reduce speed and throw
the helm hard to port.
We were within
fifty feet of them when they
awakened to the
intentional menace of our maneuver.
Their gun crew was off its guard;
but they sprang to their piece
now and sent a futile shell above
our heads. Nobs leaped about
and barked furiously. "Let 'em
have it!" commanded the tug-captain,
and instantly revolvers and rifles
poured bullets upon the deck
of the submersible. Two of the
gun-crew went down; the other
trained their piece at the water-line
of the oncoming tug. The balance
of those on deck replied to our
small-arms fire, directing their
efforts toward the man at our
wheel.
I hastily pushed the girl down
the companionway leading to the
engine-room, and then I raised
my pistol and fired my first
shot at a boche. What happened
in the next few seconds happened
so quickly that details are rather
blurred in my memory. I saw the
helmsman lunge forward upon the
wheel, pulling the helm around
so that the tug sheered off quickly
from her course, and I recall
realizing that all our efforts
were to be in vain, because of
all the men aboard, Fate had
decreed that this one should
fall first to an enemy bullet.
I saw the depleted gun-crew on
the submarine fire their piece
and I felt the shock of impact
and heard the loud explosion
as the shell struck and exploded
in our bows.
I saw and realized these things
even as I was leaping into the
pilot-house and grasping the
wheel, standing astride the dead
body of the helmsman. With all
my strength I threw the helm
to starboard; but it was too
late to effect the purpose of
our skipper. The best I did was
to scrape alongside the sub.
I heard someone shriek an order
into the engine-room; the boat
shuddered and trembled to the
sudden reversing of the engines,
and our speed quickly lessened.
Then I saw what that madman of
a skipper planned since his first
scheme had gone wrong.
With a loud-yelled command,
he leaped to the slippery deck
of the submersible, and at his
heels came his hardy crew. I
sprang from the pilot-house and
followed, not to be left out
in the cold when it came to strafing
the boches. From the engine room
companionway came the engineer
and stockers, and together we
leaped after the balance of the
crew and into the hand-to-hand
fight that was covering the wet
deck with red blood. Beside me
came Nobs, silent now, and grim.
Germans were emerging from the
open hatch to take part in the
battle on deck. At first the
pistols cracked amidst the cursing
of the men and the loud commands
of the commander and his junior;
but presently we were too indiscriminately
mixed to make it safe to use
our firearms, and the battle
resolved itself into a hand-to-hand
struggle for possession of the
deck.
The sole aim of each of us
was to hurl one of the opposing
force into the sea. I shall never
forget the hideous expression
upon the face of the great Prussian
with whom chance confronted me.
He lowered his head and rushed
at me, bellowing like a bull.
With a quick side-step and ducking
low beneath his outstretched
arms, I eluded him; and as he
turned to come back at me, I
landed a blow upon his chin which
sent him spinning toward the
edge of the deck. I saw his wild
endeavors to regain his equilibrium;
I saw him reel drunkenly for
an instant upon the brink of
eternity and then, with a loud
scream, slip into the sea. At
the same instant a pair of giant
arms encircled me from behind
and lifted me entirely off my
feet. Kick and squirm as I would,
I could neither turn toward my
antagonist nor free myself from
his maniacal grasp. Relentlessly
he was rushing me toward the
side of the vessel and death.
There was none to stay him, for
each of my companions was more
than occupied by from one to
three of the enemy. For an instant
I was fearful for myself, and
then I saw that which filled
me with a far greater terror
for another.
My boche was bearing me toward
the side of the submarine against
which the tug was still pounding.
That I should be ground to death
between the two was lost upon
me as I saw the girl standing
alone upon the tug's deck, as
I saw the stern high in air and
the bow rapidly settling for
the final dive, as I saw death
from which I could not save her
clutching at the skirts of the
woman I now knew all too well
that I loved.
I had perhaps the fraction
of a second longer to live when
I heard an angry growl behind
us mingle with a cry of pain
and rage from the giant who carried
me. Instantly he went backward
to the deck, and as he did so
he threw his arms outwards to
save himself, freeing me. I fell
heavily upon him, but was upon
my feet in the instant. As I
arose, I cast a single glance
at my opponent. Never again would
he menace me or another, for
Nob's great jaws had closed upon
his throat. Then I sprang toward
the edge of the deck closest
to the girl upon the sinking
tug.
"Jump!" I cried. "Jump!" And
I held out my arms to her. Instantly
as though with implicit confidence
in my ability to save her, she
leaped over the side of the tug
onto the sloping, slippery side
of the U-boat. I reached far
over to seize her hand. At the
same instant the tug pointed
its stern straight toward the
sky and plunged out of sight.
My hand missed the girl's by
a fraction of an inch, and I
saw her slip into the sea; but
scarce had she touched the water
when I was in after her.
The sinking tug drew us far
below the surface; but I had
seized her the moment I struck
the water, and so we went down
together, and together we came
up--a few yards from the U-boat.
The first thing I heard was Nobs
barking furiously; evidently
he had missed me and was searching.
A single glance at the vessel's
deck assured me that the battle
was over and that we had been
victorious, for I saw our survivors
holding a handful of the enemy
at pistol points while one by
one the rest of the crew was
coming out of the craft's interior
and lining up on deck with the
other prisoners.
As I swam toward the submarine
with the girl, Nobs' persistent
barking attracted the attention
of some of the tug's crew, so
that as soon as we reached the
side there were hands to help
us aboard. I asked the girl if
she was hurt, but she assured
me that she was none the worse
for this second wetting; nor
did she seem to suffer any from
shock. I was to learn for myself
that this slender and seemingly
delicate creature possessed the
heart and courage of a warrior.
As we joined our own party,
I found the tug's mate checking
up our survivors. There were
ten of us left, not including
the girl. Our brave skipper was
missing, as were eight others.
There had been nineteen of us
in the attacking party and we
had accounted in one way and
another during the battle for
sixteen Germans and had taken
nine prisoners, including the
commander. His lieutenant had
been killed.
"Not a bad day's work," said
Bradley, the mate, when he had
completed his roll. "Only losing
the skipper," he added, "was
the worst. He was a fine man,
a fine man."
Olson--who
in spite of his name was Irish,
and in spite
of his not being Scotch had been
the tug's engineer--was standing
with Bradley and me. "Yis," he
agreed, "it's a day's wor-rk
we're after doin', but what are
we goin' to be doin' wid it now
we got it?"
"We'll run her into the nearest
English port," said Bradley, "and
then we'll all go ashore and
get our V. C.'s," he concluded,
laughing.
"How you goin' to run her?" queried
Olson. "You can't trust these
Dutchmen."
Bradley scratched
his head. "I
guess you're right," he admitted. "And
I don't know the first thing
about a sub."
"I do," I assured him. "I
know more about this particular
sub
than the officer who commanded
her."
Both men looked at me in astonishment,
and then I had to explain all
over again as I had explained
to the girl. Bradley and Olson
were delighted. Immediately I
was put in command, and the first
thing I did was to go below with
Olson and inspect the craft thoroughly
for hidden boches and damaged
machinery. There were no Germans
below, and everything was intact
and in ship-shape working order.
I then ordered all hands below
except one man who was to act
as lookout. Questioning the Germans,
I found that all except the commander
were willing to resume their
posts and aid in bringing the
vessel into an English port.
I believe that they were relieved
at the prospect of being detained
at a comfortable English prison-camp
for the duration of the war after
the perils and privations through
which they had passed. The officer,
however, assured me that he would
never be a party to the capture
of his vessel.
There was, therefore, nothing
to do but put the man in irons.
As we were preparing to put this
decision into force, the girl
descended from the deck. It was
the first time that she or the
German officer had seen each
other's faces since we had boarded
the U-boat. I was assisting the
girl down the ladder and still
retained a hold upon her arm--possibly
after such support was no longer
necessary--when she turned and
looked squarely into the face
of the German. Each voiced a
sudden exclamation of surprise
and dismay.
"Lys!" he cried,
and took a step toward her.
The girl's eyes went wide,
and slowly filled with a great
horror, as she shrank back. Then
her slender figure stiffened
to the erectness of a soldier,
and with chin in air and without
a word she turned her back upon
the officer.
"Take him away," I directed
the two men who guarded him, "and
put him in irons."
When he had
gone, the girl raised her eyes
to mine. "He
is the German of whom I spoke," she
said. "He is Baron von Schoenvorts."
I merely inclined my head.
She had loved him! I wondered
if in her heart of hearts she
did not love him yet. Immediately
I became insanely jealous. I
hated Baron Friedrich von Schoenvorts
with such utter intensity that
the emotion thrilled me with
a species of exaltation.
But I didn't have much chance
to enjoy my hatred then, for
almost immediately the lookout
poked his face over the hatchway
and bawled down that there was
smoke on the horizon, dead ahead.
Immediately I went on deck to
investigate, and Bradley came
with me.
"If she's friendly," he said, "we'll
speak her. If she's not, we'll
sink her--eh, captain?"
"Yes, lieutenant," I
replied, and it was his turn
to smile.
We hoisted the Union Jack and
remained on deck, asking Bradley
to go below and assign to each
member of the crew his duty,
placing one Englishman with a
pistol beside each German.
"Half speed ahead," I
commanded.
More rapidly now we closed
the distance between ourselves
and the stranger, until I could
plainly see the red ensign of
the British merchant marine.
My heart swelled with pride at
the thought that presently admiring
British tars would be congratulating
us upon our notable capture;
and just about then the merchant
steamer must have sighted us,
for she veered suddenly toward
the north, and a moment later
dense volumes of smoke issued
from her funnels. Then, steering
a zigzag course, she fled from
us as though we had been the
bubonic plague. I altered the
course of the submarine and set
off in chase; but the steamer
was faster than we, and soon
left us hopelessly astern.
With a rueful smile, I directed
that our original course be resumed,
and once again we set off toward
merry England. That was three
months ago, and we haven't arrived
yet; nor is there any likelihood
that we ever shall. The steamer
we had just sighted must have
wirelessed a warning, for it
wasn't half an hour before we
saw more smoke on the horizon,
and this time the vessel flew
the white ensign of the Royal
Navy and carried guns. She didn't
veer to the north or anywhere
else, but bore down on us rapidly.
I was just preparing to signal
her, when a flame flashed from
her bows, and an instant later
the water in front of us was
thrown high by the explosion
of a shell.
Bradley had
come on deck and was standing
beside me. "About
one more of those, and she'll
have our range," he said. "She
doesn't seem to take much stock
in our Union Jack."
A second shell passed over
us, and then I gave the command
to change our direction, at the
same time directing Bradley to
go below and give the order to
submerge. I passed Nobs down
to him, and following, saw to
the closing and fastening of
the hatch.
It seemed to me that the diving-tanks
never had filled so slowly. We
heard a loud explosion apparently
directly above us; the craft
trembled to the shock which threw
us all to the deck. I expected
momentarily to feel the deluge
of inrushing water, but none
came. Instead we continued to
submerge until the manometer
registered forty feet and then
I knew that we were safe. Safe!
I almost smiled. I had relieved
Olson, who had remained in the
tower at my direction, having
been a member of one of the early
British submarine crews, and
therefore having some knowledge
of the business. Bradley was
at my side. He looked at me quizzically.
"What the devil are we to do?" he
asked. "The merchantman will
flee us; the war-vessel will
destroy us; neither will believe
our colors or give us a chance
to explain. We will meet even
a worse reception if we go nosing
around a British port--mines,
nets and all of it. We can't
do it."
"Let's try it again when this
fellow has lost the scent," I
urged. "There must come a ship
that will believe us."
And try it again we did, only
to be almost rammed by a huge
freighter. Later we were fired
upon by a destroyer, and two
merchantmen turned and fled at
our approach. For two days we
cruised up and down the Channel
trying to tell some one, who
would listen, that we were friends;
but no one would listen. After
our encounter with the first
warship I had given instructions
that a wireless message be sent
out explaining our predicament;
but to my chagrin I discovered
that both sending and receiving
instruments had disappeared.
"There is only one place you
can go," von Schoenvorts sent
word to me, "and that is Kiel.
You can't land anywhere else
in these waters. If you wish,
I will take you there, and I
can promise that you will be
treated well."
"There is another place we
can go," I sent back my reply, "and
we will before we'll go to Germany.
That place is hell."
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