All at once in this antechamber of death there rises a song! To the
steel heart of the _Monge_ the even more highly tempered hearts of
the French sailors are replying. They are singing! If the plates are
springing, these hearts do not give way. Like their ancestors, the
ancient Gauls, they fear nothing; and they prove it by intoning a
hymn for France at 200 feet below the surface of the ocean. Yes, in
their half overturned, flooded cage which threatens to crush like an
eggshell, they sing! No audience is theirs and, so far as they know,
none will ever know how they met their end. But no matter, it is for
themselves they sing, possessed by the sublime exaltation that makes
martyrs and heroes.
Groping about, they manage to make a lamp flash for a few seconds. This
reveals the full gravity of the situation, for it shows the pointers of
the manometers standing still at their limit, proving that they are far
below the greatest depth permitted to the _Monge_.
Commandant Morillot's hand is upon the lever that controls the lead
ballast, his last resource, but he hesitates to release it. If the
leads be released the submarine will rise to the surface, but must be
captured at once, for she will then be unable to submerge again. He
looks at the men in the fitful light of the flashing lamp, questioning
them with his eyes, as he thinks: If it is good to live it is also good
to die for one's country. Their silence responding to his immobility
expresses their acquiescence in the sacrifice.
But at last, under the direction of the Commander, the engineers get
the turbines working again. The creaking diminishes, then it ceases.
Ensign Appell strikes a match and holds it to the manometer. The
pointer moves from its maximum (135 feet).
"Courage!" he cries, "we are rising!"
Quick to the periscopes! Alas, one of them has gone, and the other is
blind!
Still they rise. Suddenly a crash above, and then another. Four shells
explode right overhead. They are at the surface, and the Austrians are
firing on them!
There is nothing for it but to submerge again, come what may. Scarcely
has the Commandant given the order than a shell bursts right in the
port periscope chamber, tearing a great hole in the hull. This time
nothing can save the _Monge_. Only now does the captain let go the lead
ballast. Since his vessel is lost, he will profit by the brief respite
this lightening will give to save the crew. After closing the water
valves he orders the forward hatchway opened and leads his men to it.
"Not that way, my boys," he says to those who take the wrong direction,
"this way. As soon as you get out, leap overboard to show that the
_Monge_ is sinking and stop the enemy's fire."