THE SKIPPER OF THE "GUIDING STAR"
U 254 arrived at the position indicated by her kapitan-leutnant
nearly forty-eight hours before H.M.S. "Tantalus" sailed from
Trecurnow Roads. During the period of waiting for her anticipated
victim the submarine remained almost inactive, although nearly a
dozen merchantmen were sighted on the first day and fifteen on the
second.
With more important ends in view von Loringhoven made no attempt to
sink the vessels flying the red ensign, lest news of the U-boat's
presence might be communicated to the naval authorities at
Trecurnow.
There was one exception, however, and the ober-leutnant risked a
torpedo on the chance of aiding rather than hazarding his piratical
progress.
Just before sunset a steamer was reported about three miles to the
sou'westward. Von Loringhoven, binoculars in hand, clambered upon
the flat top of the conning-tower, and having searched the horizon
with his glasses, focussed them upon the approaching vessel.
Satisfying himself that the tramp was alone, and noting the fact
that she carried a puny gun mounted for'ard and perhaps one
aft--although from the way the vessel was pointing it was impossible
to verify the suggestion--von Loringhoven descended from his
elevated position and shouted orders to the men on deck to go below.
"I am about to torpedo that ship, Kuhlberg," announced the
ober-leutnant, after he had followed his men into the interior of
the steel hull and had closed the watertight hatch in the
conning-tower.
The unter-leutnant regarded his superior with undisguised surprise.
"Is it wise, Herr Kapitan?" he asked. "I thought you had decided not
to trouble about any vessel until we have attacked the 'Tantalus'?"
"Do not question your commanding-officer's decisions," snapped von
Loringhoven. "The vessel will be sunk without leaving a trace, and
there will be few survivors. Those few I will make good use of
during the next day or two."
"Gunfire, Herr Kapitan?"
Von Loringhoven turned away from his subordinate and jerked down one
of the levers actuating the valves of the diving tanks. Hans
Kuhlberg, thinking that the ober-leutnant had not heard the
question, repeated it.
"_Himmel!_" growled von Loringhoven over his shoulder. "Where are
your wits, Kuhlberg? That craft carries a gun; perhaps two. We could
out-range her, of course, but then, there would be the delay before
we sent her to the bottom."
The ober-leutnant did not think it worth while to mention that he
had a wholesome respect for the comparatively short-range guns
carried on tramps and drifters. Experience had taught him that
lesson.
With the tips of her periscopes showing at intervals above the
waves, U 254 manoeuvred until she was in a favourable position for
firing a torpedo. At a distance of three hundred yards the chances
of hitting the tramp were practically certain.
"Fire!" ordered the ober-leutnant.
The submarine tilted slightly as the powerful weapon left the
starboard tube. Barely had the hiss of the compensating quantity of
water rushing into the vacated tube ceased, when the dull roar of
the exploding missile was borne to the ears of the piratical crew.
"Another cursed Englander gone," grunted von Loringhoven, as he
ordered the ballast tanks to be blown.
Very cautiously, after a lapse of five minutes, the dealer of the
recreant stroke poked her periscopes above water. As the
ober-leutnant expected, the tramp was sinking rapidly. The force of
the explosion, for the torpedo had struck her abreast of the engine
room, had practically shattered the lightly built hull. Bow and
stern were cocked high in the air, while amidships the frothy sea
was pouring over the submerged deck.
One boat had already been lowered. Another had been swung out and
the falls manned. The crew were waiting for something. Curious on
that point, von Loringhoven peered intently through the eyepiece of
the periscope. Presently he saw a man, waist deep in water,
staggering aft, carrying the body of an insensible comrade on his
back. So steep was the deck and so strong the swirling water that
the devoted rescuer had all his work cut out to reach the boat,
where willing hands relieved him of his burden.
The boat got away only just in time. Even as the lower blocks of the
falls were disengaged, the doomed tramp slid beneath the waves, the
davits just missing the laden boat's gunwale as the crew fended off
with oars and boathooks.
Then in a smother of foam and a dense pall of smoke and steam the
two boats were left tossing upon the waves, eighty miles from the
nearest land, and without a friendly craft in sight.
The ober-leutnant deemed it quite safe to bring the U-boat to the
surface. As soon as the submarine's deck was awash, von Loringhoven
called away the guns' crews, and, followed by Kulhberg, he emerged
from the conning-tower.
At the sight of the submarine bearing down upon the boats the
survivors of the torpedoed tramp lay on their oars.
"What is the name of the ship we have sunk?" demanded von
Loringhoven.
"The 'Guiding Star' of Newcastle, from Bahia to London with a
general cargo," replied the master promptly.
"Where are your papers?"
"With the ship. We hadn't too much time," was the answer.
"Come alongside," was the ober-leutnant's next order.
The boats closed. The men had no option but to obey, but even the
muzzles of the two quick-firers failed to terrorise them.
"You have had enough of the sea, captain," continued von Loringhoven
mockingly.
"Not I," replied the master, a short, broad-shouldered man of about
fifty, whose iron-grey hair contrasted vividly with his brick-red
features, dark with hardly suppressed anger. "I'll put to sea again
within twenty-four hours if my owners give me another ship. Next
time I fall in with you I hope the boot will be on the other foot.
It won't be my fault if it isn't."
The master of the "Guiding Star" had spoken his mind. It was
indiscreet, and he knew it; but he came of a stubborn stock, that
fears nothing either on land or sea.
"You amuse me, captain," said von Loringhoven, his thick lips
curling ominously. "So much so that I want to have more of your
company. Come on board."
The tough old skipper said a few hurried words to the mate, then,
with an exhortation to his men to stick to it and keep together, he
stepped out of the boat and gained the U-boat's deck.
"Take him below," curtly ordered the ober-leutnant, addressing two
of his crew.
With folded arms von Loringhoven waited until the master of the
"Guiding Star" was taken to a compartment in the after part of the
submarine, and securely locked in. One of the two sailors returned
and reported that the instructions had been carried out.
"You may go now," said the ober-leutnant to the crews of the boats.
The men pushed off and commenced rowing in the direction of the
invisible land. The crew in one of the boats set to work to step the
mast and set sail, calling to their companions in misfortune that
they would take them in tow.
Von Loringhoven made his way to the navigation platform, where
Kuhlberg was standing by the steering-wheel.
"Gunfire, Herr Kapitan?" asked the unter-leutnant.
"You have gunfire on the brain," replied the ober-leutnant. "We have
made quite enough noise already. Order half speed ahead and port
your helm."
The U-boat swung round, gradually increasing her way until her bows
pointed towards the two boats.
"Steady on your helm," ordered von Loringhoven. "At that.... Full
speed ahead!"
At fifteen knots the blunt bows of the modern pirate crashed into
the foremost boat, rending the elm planking like matchboard. A few
of the men who escaped being crushed by the enormous bulk of the
murderous craft were left struggling in the water. Of these only one
wore a lifebelt. Von Loringhoven had not noticed it when the boat
was alongside. He signed to a petty officer standing aft. The Hun
drew a revolver and, as the lifebelted seaman swept past, shot him
through the head with as little compunction as a gamekeeper would
have at killing a stoat or a weasel.
The rest of the survivors, finding themselves in the U-boat's wake,
struck out for the remaining boat. It was an unavailing struggle for
life, for, turning again, U 254 charged down upon the second of the
"Guiding Star's" boats and the tragedy was re-enacted.
"Enough!" ordered the ober-leutnant, scanning the horizon, over
which the shadow of night was rapidly drawing. "With the sea at this
low temperature a man cannot last more than ten minutes."
It was about noon on the following day, when U 254 was gently
forging ahead at seventy feet beneath the surface, von Loringhoven
ordered the skipper of the "Guiding Star" to be brought to his
cabin.
"Well, captain," began the ober-leutnant with a burst of assumed
affability. "I am sorry that I was compelled to detain you. On the
other hand we did all we could to assist your crew on their long
voyage."
The skipper made no audible comment. If von Loringhoven imagined
that he was ignorant of the cold-blooded tragedy he was grievously
mistaken. The master of the tramp had heard the double crash as the
U-boat collided with the two boats, and had formed his own
conclusions--which happened to be perfectly correct.
"I must explain my reasons for receiving you as a guest," continued
von Loringhoven. "We are now bound for Wilhelmshaven by the shortest
route, which, as you know, is through the Straits of Dover. As I am
under the impression that you were furnished with Admiralty
directions concerning the course through the mine-fields you will be
most useful to us as a pilot. I am certain that you would not throw
away your life by withholding your assistance."
The skipper of the "Guiding Star" looked the Hun straight in the
face.
"If that's what you've made me a prisoner for you might have spared
yourself the trouble," he said pointedly. "As for the mine-fields,
you'll fetch up against them right enough if you aren't sent to Davy
Jones by the latest anti-U-boat appliance, which ought to be in full
working order by now."
"What appliance is that?" demanded von Loringhoven uneasily.
"I can understand your anxiety, but I won't enlighten you further on
the matter," replied the master of the "Guiding Star."
The ober-leutnant literally snarled. He was baulked, and he knew it.
He had made the mistake of gauging the British merchant skipper's
calibre with that of the Hun.
"You'll feel sorry for yourself, Englishman, when we arrive at
Wilhelmshaven," he said.
"Which will be never," rejoined the prisoner. "You'll be trapped,
whether you make up-channel or try to dodge round the Orkneys."
"And I need hardly remind you," continued von Loringhoven, "that if
anything befalls this vessel you will most certainly perish."
"I am not afraid to die," announced the master in a tone that
carried conviction. "My only regret is that I may have to put up
with a crowd of skulking German pirates for messmates in Davy
Jones's locker."
With an oath von Loringhoven levelled an automatic pistol at the old
man's head. Only the pressure of a few ounces upon the sensitive
hair-trigger stood between the tramp's skipper and death. Not a
muscle of his features moved as he calmly eyed the muzzle of the
powerful weapon and the sardonic face of the pirate behind it.
Again von Loringhoven had made an error. He had failed entirely to
intimidate or terrorise his helpless captive, and he was now on the
horns of a dilemma. He did not want to shoot: it would come in handy
to have a hostage should he find himself in a tight corner; on the
other hand, once having levelled the pistol he could not without
loss of dignity put the weapon down.
"I give you twenty seconds to agree to my proposal," he said.
"You mentioned a good many proposals," replied the skipper of the
"Guiding Star" sarcastically. "Which one do you mean?"
"To give us the British Admiralty sailing course."
"I'll see you to Hades first!" declared the prisoner.
Von Loringhoven began to count--slowly, in the hope that the
Englishman's spirit would be broken under the prolonged mental
strain.
Suddenly there was a peremptory knock at the cabin door, and in
answer to an invitation to enter a petty officer appeared.
"Your pardon, Herr Kapitan, but Unter-Leutnant Kuhlberg ordered me
to inform you that the English cruiser is in sight."
"Very good," replied the ober-leutnant. "Tell a couple of hands to
lock this schweinhund in the empty store-room."
He waited until the prisoner had been removed, then snatching up his
binoculars he hastened to bring the submarine awash. Five miles away
was a large, grey four-funnelled cruiser. She had just altered helm
on a zig-zag course, and her new direction, if maintained, would
bring her within torpedo range of U 254.
"That is the 'Tantalus,'" declared the ober-leutnant. "Diving
stations, there; launch home in both bow and broadside tubes. We'll
have her right enough."