“Maybe it would be possible to put in a couple of mermaids who look in through the conning tower window inquisitively and knock with their fingers on the glass,” said Petersen, our youngest lieutenant, with a smile. “That would undoubtedly make the picture still more attractive.”
Gröning, who during the entire time had listened with a quiet smile to the conversation, took out his empty cigar holder, on which he always chewed when we were under water because, as a heavy smoker, he missed tobacco, as none of us was allowed to smoke inside the boat. Slowly he said with a touch of irony, in a deep, sympathetic voice:
“Here, my dear Petersen, you are an unreasonable rascal. If there are no women in the game, then there is no pleasure for you. Doesn’t the fellow actually talk about mermaids when he tells us every fourth week he is going to become engaged. ‘This time it’s absolutely certain! This time I surely will do it, as I will never find such a girl again.’ This and more I hear every month. What was the last one’s name that you intended to make happy—your March girl? Wait, I have it—the February girl—ha, ha, ha—has the captain heard the story of the February girl?”
He turned to me laughing.
“Will you shut up, Gröning!” Petersen burst forth and blushed up to his ears. “I’ll tell you that if you tell tales out of school—and besides——”
“Well, Petersen,” I encouraged, “what ‘besides’?”
“Besides, all that is not true,” he continued and blushed still more when he noticed that he had betrayed himself. “You should certainly keep quiet,” he went on suddenly, beaming with an idea, and began to attack in order to lead the conversation away from himself. “He who lives in glass houses should be more careful.”
“I—I—I—how so—that’s the limit!” Gröning angrily rejoined, as he considered it an honor to be known among his friends as a woman hater. “I—in a glass house? It’s a mean accusation, or have you been drinking too much wine, my dear boy?”
“Bah! only a glass,” answered the younger officer, defending himself. “It is ridiculous to claim anything like that.”
“Well, well, be friends now, sirs,” I said soothingly. “Don’t let’s quarrel down here at the bottom of the sea. I hereby decide that our younger officer is absolutely sober, but that, even so, he will not be allowed to let his April girl with her fishtail come in here, as a punishment, because he has jilted his February girl.”