It now became clear that the submarine commander had decided to gain his ends by swift manoeuvring. Crouch himself was the first to recognize that the "Harlech" stood no chance of overhauling its enemy. The U93 could apparently travel on the surface at the rate of not less than fifteen knots; and even had the "Harlech" not been so sadly disabled, she could hardly have overtaken her quarry.
The submarine drew away some distance ahead, and then made a half circle to the left, returning on a parallel course, until she was level with the steamer. The "Harlech" was then not more than a mile away from the Cornish coast, where the dark, rugged outline of the hills was clearly visible in the moonlight.
Suddenly the hatch in the conning-tower of the U93 was seen to open, and two men made their appearance, one of whom shouted through a megaphone. He spoke good English. In the stillness of the night every word he said was audible.
"Ahoy, there!" he cried. "Slow down at once, and stop; or we send you to the bottom."
"Who are you?" asked Crouch, more with the idea of wasting time than of gleaning any definite information.
"His Imperial Majesty's submarine U93," came the answer. "Heave to, at once!"
Crouch saw that he had no alternative but to surrender. The "Harlech" was now broadside on to the submarine, which was not a hundred and fifty yards away. A torpedo, if discharged, could no more fail to strike its target than send the merchant ship to the bottom in the space of a few moments. It was a bitter pill to swallow; and as he paced to and fro upon the bridge, the little wizened master-mariner thought of Jason, Junior, sitting in his spacious offices in the midst of the hurry and commotion of New York.
He looked again at the submarine, which had now turned round and was following its victim as a cat plays with a mouse--except that, in this case, the mouse was huge and cumbrous, the cat quite small and fragile. In something that was very like a fit of rage Crouch grasped the handle of the telegraph, and rang down to the engine-room to "Stop."
The submarine drew even closer, until at last the German commander was able to make himself heard without the use of his megaphone.
"Are you the 'Harlech'?" he demanded.