“You’ll all know soon. We’ll up anchor and sail in half an hour. Orders from the port admiral. He has got information from the prisoners that there may be another Zeppelin fallen in the sea outside. They saw her fall, and it may be possible for us to rescue some of her company.”
“More of the baby-killing Heinies?” exclaimed Whistler.
“Ah, well, we have to be merciful,” said the ensign. “They were obeying their orders. We must obey ours.”
“But you know, Mr. MacMasters,” said Morgan earnestly, “if our superiors ordered us to commit the crimes the Huns commit, there would be mighty few of us who would obey orders.”
“Aye, aye, my lad,” sighed the older man. “But remember we have not lived under Prussian masters all our lives. We have different teaching and different ideals, thank God!”
In ten minutes the whole ship’s company was making ready for departure.
CHAPTER VII—ON THE GREY WATERS
For the most part the American destroyers on duty in British and French waters were doing patrol service, scouting over designated areas in quest of enemy submarines, meeting and escorting troop and merchant ships into port, and on occasion, when the S O S calls came, rushing to the aid of torpedoed or of mined craft.
Even during the short experience Philip Morgan and his chums had had on the Colodia, they had often seen the wreckage-littered waters where ships had gone down and men and women had suffered exposure in lifeboats.
The destroyer had roared through the grey seas, in fog and gale and darkness, in answer to the tragic calls for help. Never, since men went down to the sea in ships, had there been such adventure on the waves as in those years of the World War.