“There you are right, Gröning,” I agreed. “With that sort of a nuisance, equipped as they are with so many machines for our destruction, it would be very disagreeable to make their acquaintance. If they come, it is best to disappear. It is not worth the risk. We have many more important duties ahead of us. It would be too bad to spoil a good torpedo on such trash.”
At the same time, I decided to rise so as to get a better observation through the periscope and once more look around the horizon. I suddenly observed in the northeast a peculiar, dark cloud of smoke. I, therefore, did not give any orders to arise, but told “Centrale” by a few short commands through the speaking tube the new turn of affairs and, with added speed, went to meet the smoke cloud.
III
THE SINKING OF THE TRANSPORT
Soon the outlines of a ship told us that ahead of us was a large steamer, steaming westward at high speed. The disappointment which we experienced at first was soon reversed when it was clearly shown that the fortunes of war had again sent a ship across our course which belonged to a hostile power.
No flag could be seen—nor was it run up. Otherwise we would have seen it.
“This is a suspicious circumstance,” I reasoned with myself.
I called down to the “Centrale” all my observations through the periscope at regular intervals, snapping them out in the same sharp, brief style that the newsboys use in calling out the headlines to the listening public. My words were passed in whispers from mouth to mouth until all hands on board knew what was going on above the surface. Each new announcement from the conning tower caused great excitement among the crew, listening and holding their breath and, I believe, if you could measure the tension on human nerves with a barometer, it would have registered to the end of the tube, when, like hammer beats, these words went down to the “Centrale”:
“The steamer’s armed! Take a look, mate.”
I stepped away from the sights of the periscope. “Can you see the gun mounted forward of the bridge?”