Instead of proceeding direct to the Dogger Bank, as I had done, the other boat must have joined Admiral Rojestvensky’s squadron, and come on before it like a jackal pointing out the lion’s prey.
“Go forward,” I commanded the German mate. “Let no one disturb me till this business is over.”
Orloff gave me a wondering look, but obeyed without an instant’s hesitation.
As soon as his back was turned, I swung the wheel around, put on the full power of the engines, and went after the craft I had been searching for during the last forty-eight hours.
Had the commander of the other submarine noticed mine, and did he suspect my intention to frustrate his design? It almost seemed so. His boat, scarcely visible in the gloom, fled in front of me to where the foremost fishing boats were riding lazily over the shoals, dragging their nets along the bottom.
It was a weird chase. Neither of us showed a glint of light, or made the smallest sound. Like two great shadowing fish we darted through the depths of the sea, hunter and hunted.
In between the sagging nets with their load of cod and flounders, shot the phantom boat I was pursuing, and I followed, obliged to slacken speed as we twisted in and out under the keels of the unconscious fishermen.
And all this time the huge warships in two lines astern were plunging through the seas, heading straight for the unfortunate smacks.
The chase seemed to be aware that it was a case of now or never. I was catching up with it fast; I was able to mark its course by the broken water churned up by its propeller; when, all at once, I saw it rise with the swift motion of a bird.
I had no alternative but to do the same.