The threat was received with perfect resignation.
“Follow me.”
I turned on my heel, and led the way to the dockyard gates, the men marching after me with a regular tramp which could only have been acquired on the deck of a man-of-war.
The sentry was, if possible, more indifferent to our approach than he had been when I had been alone. I threw open the wicket, and bade the last man close it.
Then we marched in the same order to the place where the five submarines were moored.
“I am going on board one of these boats,” I announced. “Find something to take us off.”
The man whom I had engaged originally, taking on himself the part of mate, repeated my directions. A large whale-boat was found tied up in a convenient spot beside the wharf.
We all got in, and I took the tiller. The mate, who answered to the Russian name of Orloff, though the only language I heard him speak was German, said nothing till I brought the whale-boat alongside of the nearest submarine.
“I beg pardon, Captain, but I have a fancy that the boat at the far end is in better trim, if you have no choice.”
“Why didn’t you tell me so at once?” I returned sharply, not too well pleased to find him so well informed.