CHAPTER XII

PRISONERS OF WAR

"YOUR bird," wirelessed Lieutenant-Commander Ronald Tressidar,

D.S.O., of H.M. Destroyer "Antipas."

"Thanks," was Barcroft's laconic reply.

"Stand by and pick up the pieces."

The "Antipas" approached rapidly, manoeuvring to keep bows on to the

U-boat's stern. Fritz is a treacherous skunk to deal with. The

modern pirates lack even the faint spark of chivalry that was to be

occasionally met with in the German Navy during the earlier stages

of the Great War. If the crew of the surrendered craft had an

opportunity it was just possible that they might have let fly at the

destroyer with a torpedo; consequently, in the knowledge that there

was no sting in the submarine's tail, Tressidar took the precaution

already referred to.

"Away whaler," ordered the lieutenant-commander. "I suppose the

bounders have opened the sea-cocks, Mr. Holcombe, but make sure on

that point."

The whaler was manned and lowered, with Sub-Lieutenant Holcombe in

command. Only a distance of two cables' lengths separated the

"Antipas" from Barcroft's prize.

"We surrender!" announced von Loringhoven, as the boat ran alongside

U 254.

"So I understand," replied Holcombe. "If you've been trying to

scuttle your hooker, take my tip and close the valves. We are about

to take you in tow."

"_Himmel!_" ejaculated the ober-leutnant. "It is impossible. Every

plate in the hull is strained."

"I'll satisfy myself on that point," rejoined the sub. "If you play

any monkey tricks there'll be trouble for the whole crowd of you."

Agilely Holcombe boarded the submarine, bidding the whaler lay off

at two lengths' distance and not to take off any of the prisoners

until he gave orders.

"I suppose," he remarked, addressing the ober-leutnant, "that every

man on board is now on deck?"

"Yes, every man," declared von Loringhoven in an assumed tone of

pained surprise. "For why do you ask?"

"Because," replied Holcombe, looking the ober-leutnant straight in

the face, "one of our destroyers picked up two survivors of the s.s.

'Guiding Star' yesterday. Something seems to have gone wrong with

your _spurlos versenkt_ plans, Herr Kapitan. One of the men stated

that the master of the tramp was taken on board U 254 as a prisoner.

Where is he?"

Von Loringhoven was trembling like a leaf.

"I had forgotten him," he stammered.

It was only half a truth. In the wild rush for the open air the

ober-leutnant had overlooked the fact that the staunch old British

merchant skipper was still locked up in one of the store rooms.

Afterwards he had decided to let the prisoner stay, since his

appearance might lead to awkward questions being asked. With the

amount of water already in the hull of the submarine, he argued with

himself, no inquisitive Englishman would dare to go below to

investigate. But he was very much mistaken.

"It is not too late to make reparation for your thoughtlessness,

Herr Kapitan," said Holcombe sternly. "Lead the way below to where

the prisoner is confined. I will accompany you."

Von Loringhoven began to give instructions in German to one of his

men, but the sub shut him up very promptly.

"No deputies are permitted for this business," he observed. "Lead

on, Herr Kapitan. For the second and last time, I order you. Until

the master of the s.s. 'Guiding Star' is rescued, not a man of the

crew of this vessel will be removed."

Several of the Huns who understood English immediately offered their

services, but Holcombe "turned them down." His anger was aroused and

he meant to give the brutally callous ober-leutnant a practical

lesson.

In desperation von Loringhoven descended the steel ladder in the

interior of the conning tower, Holcombe following him closely. By

the aid of an electric torch the sub realised that the

ober-leutnant's description of the state of the prize was not

exaggerated. Already the water was ankle-deep above the floor,

surging sullenly with every sluggish motion of the slowly foundering

U-boat. In a dozen places jets of water were squirting through the

strained plates, the sound of splattering liquid echoing and

re-echoing in the confined space.

With a master-key von Loringhoven unlocked the door of the

prisoner's cramped quarters. If he had expected to see a terrified

man he was mistaken, for the sturdy old skipper was at least

outwardly unperturbed.

"Glad you've come, sir," he exclaimed as he caught sight of a

British naval uniform. "I thought it was all U P with me this time,

but there was one consolation: I wasn't going to Davy Jones with a

crowd of dirty Huns for messmates."

"If you don't look sharp and get a move on you'll have one at all

events," said Holcombe, indicating the still trembling

ober-leutnant, who was casting anxious glances, first at his late

prisoner and then at the steadily rising water.

Upon regaining the deck the sub ordered the whaler alongside. The

master of the "Guiding Star" was assisted into the stern-sheets: he

was too weak with the reaction following his release to trust to his

own limbs. Then, one by one, the prisoners were ordered into the

boat, while Holcombe, with the ensign of the prize under his arm,

was the last to leave. He was only just in time, for the U-boat's

deck was now awash. Before the whaler had rowed a hundred yards U

254 brought her career of black and ignominious piracy to a close by

seeking a final resting-place on the bed of the Atlantic.

"It's fortunate for those fellows that you are on board the

'Antipas,'" was Lieutenant-Commander Tressidar's greeting to the

master mariner. "My sub, Mr. Holcombe, had definite instructions on

that point."

"Murderous swine!" growled the skipper of the torpedoed tramp. "I

haven't a doubt that they deliberately killed my two boats' crews in

cold blood, although I didn't see it myself."

"All but two," corrected Tressidar. "One of our destroyers found

them clinging to the wreckage of a boat. The bow portion was cut

clean away and floated bottom upward. The poor fellows had the sense

to get underneath, and so balked the Huns. Yes, justice will be

done, although, thank goodness, retribution is in worthier hands

than mine."

There was no sloppy sentimentality in Ronald Tressidar's character.

Knowing the U-boat's crew to be pirates and murderers he treated

them with scant consideration. Von Loringhoven, Kuhlberg, and their

men were ordered below and placed under lock and key, while the

"Antipas," having hoisted in the whaler, started off to overtake the

still manfully labouring "Tantalus."

"By Jove, Holcombe!" observed the lieutenant-commander to his sub as

they stood upon the bridge and kept the torpedoed cruiser under

observation by means of their binoculars, "the old hooker looks like

fetching home after all. She doesn't appear to be listing much more.

Wonder where Barcroft has bundled off to?"

"The Blimp did jolly well, sir," remarked Holcombe. "Only I can't

quite make out why she didn't pulverise the U-boat."

"Nor can I," agreed Tressidar. "I'd dearly like to pull Barcroft's

leg over the business, only he might retaliate by asking how we came

to miss the strafed Hun with our depth charge. Hullo! there's the

Blimp--still strafing something, I believe."

The airship, almost invisible against the grey sky, was about ten

miles astern. Two faintly muffled reports indicated the present

nature of her business.

"Any wireless from 144A?" inquired Tressidar of the telegraphist.

"No, sir."

"Then get a message through. Inquire if any assistance is needed."

It was five minutes later, by which time the Blimp was lost to

sight, that the reply came through.

"No assistance necessary. Mine-laying sub-marine properly strafed

this time."

The lieutenant-commander and the sub exchanged glances.

"That's a nasty one," remarked Tressidar. "Barcroft's evidently

blaming us for getting in his way when he kippered U 254. I

remember----"

"Look, sir," interrupted Holcombe. "The old 'Tantalus' is going."

Levelling his glasses in the direction of the stricken cruiser,

Tressidar realised that her end was nigh. Apparently a bulkhead had

given way, admitting an enormous quantity of water, for the vessel

was heeling to an angle of forty-five degrees, while her stern was

lifting until the blades of the remaining propeller were churning

the water into cauldrons of foam.

While the "Antipas" was hurrying to the assistance of the foundering

"Tantalus" the lieutenant of the destroyer mounted the bridge.

"Here's a curious bit of documentary evidence to find on the person

of a Hun, sir," he remarked, tendering Tressidar a folded piece of

paper. "While we were examining the pirate chief's belongings I came

across this. It was in his pocket-book."

"H'm!" commented Tressidar. "This will want some explanation. A bill

for a dinner for two at the Imperial Hotel, Trebalda. That's

somewhere in North Cornwall, I believe. Let me see, what's the date?

By Jove! The consummate cheek of the fellow. He was evidently ashore

a little more than forty-eight hours ago."

"Up to some underhand mischief, I'll be bound, sir," remarked the

lieutenant.

"Looks like it, Mr. Palmer," agreed the lieutenant-commander. "If

you have no objection, I'll take charge of this scrap of paper.

Meanwhile we have more urgent work in hand."

And he indicated the stricken cruiser, still battling gamely in her

attempt to reach shallow water.

The Fritz Strafers: A Story of the Great War · 第 12 / 34 章