"What of that?" said von Sperrgebiet gruffly.
The Second-in-Command looked back over his shoulder at his Commanding
Officer: his face was livid with excitement. "It means women, Herr
Kapitan," he said. "Children perhaps…."
Von Sperrgebiet shrugged his shoulders. "They are English," he replied. "Swine, sow or sucking-pig—what is the difference? They learn their lessons slowly, these English. We will drive yet another nail into their wooden heads…. You will drive it, Ludwig," he added thoughtfully: and then, as an afterthought, "for the honour of the Fatherland."
"Thank you, Herr Kapitan," replied the youth, and turned again to the periscope mirror. Silence fell upon the waiting men: the minutes passed while the elevating wheel of the periscope revolved first in one direction and then in another. At last the form of the Second-in-Command stiffened.
"Fire!" he cried: his uncertain voice cracked into a falsetto note.
The stern of the Submarine dipped and righted itself again: the
Oberleutnant's harsh voice rang out in a succession of orders. The
Second-in-Command leaned against a stanchion and wiped his face with
his handkerchief.
A minute passed, and a dull concussion shook the boat from stem to stern. Von Sperrgebiet showed his dog-tooth in that terrible mirthless smile of his. "A hit, my little Ludwig!" he said.
The Second-in-Command clicked his heels together. "For the honour of the Fatherland," he said. "Gott strafe England!"
"Amen!" said Oberleutnant Otto von Sperrgebiet.
The boat had been travelling in a wide circle after the torpedo left the tube, and ten minutes later the Oberleutnant cautiously raised the periscope. The next moment he swung the wheel round again in the opposite direction.