“We had best be careful, sir,” said Jack. “Remember what the prisoner told us about the submarine blockade.”
“Right,” was the reply. “Of course there is a safety zone for the protection of neutral ships, but as we do not know just where these fellows are likely to be hanging about, we had better take a stitch in time and go down a ways.”
He turned to give the command, but before the words could leave his lips, he turned suddenly again at a cry from Frank.
“What’s up now?” he demanded.
For answer Frank pointed straight ahead toward the distant horizon.
“Looks like a ship in some kind of trouble, sir.”
Lord Hastings raised his glass to his eyes and peered through it long and intently.
“She’s in distress, that’s sure,” he said, lowering the glass at last. “But I can’t make her out from this distance. She doesn’t look like a ship of war, though.”
“Probably some merchantman victim of the German submarine blockade,” said Jack.
“That’s about the size of it,” Frank agreed.