“I am more cruel than you, then, madam,” Dave continued, as he led her away step by step, “for I would have the wretch live a long life. No matter how long he lives his ears must be filled with the shrieks of dying women and children. He must hear the cries of the drowning and the moans of the wounded. He must start in terror from his sleep at night, for he has done foul deeds that will haunt him as long as memory lasts. He has lived the sneaking, cowardly life of a pirate, and is steeped in all the foulness of piracy. His has not been the life of the brave fighting man, who willingly grants the foe an equal chance. He has murdered and pillaged. This fellow can never, as long as he lives, escape the accusations of his own lost soul.”
“It is a lie!” foamed Sparnheim. “A lie, a lie, a lie, I tell you! What I have done, I have done as a loyal and patriotic German. What I have done was for my country and my sovereign!”
“To be sure,” Dave agreed, “but you can never shift your part of the burden from yourself. Your life will be one of misery.”
Others of the passengers had crowded forward to share with the frenzied woman the storm of reproaches that she visited upon these Germans, but Dan felt that matters had gone far enough.
“All rescued survivors will please step inside,” he called out. “We will register your names and make the best possible provision for you.”
Having gotten the rescued ones well aft, Dan turned to the petty officer in charge of the prisoners.
“March them down to the brig,” he ordered.
Sparnheim drew himself up, then indicated a younger man at his side.
“Me? You know who I am. And this is Lieutenant Witz. When you send my men to your brig, what do you do with us?”
“We won’t separate you,” Dan assured him, with a smile.