As I left the ward I glanced once more towards the patient. He was apparently sound asleep and snoring his loudest, but as I turned away, one eye suddenly opened and closed again in the most unmistakable wink that was ever winked by man or sailor.
* * * * *
It wasn’t until some years afterwards that I heard the end of the story.
I only got wind of it by chance at a dinner party, after the women folk had left us and the port had been round for the second time. It was before the War, and not knowing that there were any Naval guests present I was talking to my neighbour about the Navy, and telling him what I knew of the ‘02’ fatality, when the gray-haired man opposite me broke in.
‘I think I can finish your story for you,’ he said.
‘Finish the story!’ I replied in surprise. ‘Do you know any more details then?’
‘I think I do,’ he said quietly. ‘You see, I was in the T.B. at the time of the accident. I was a captain then, and it was before I retired from the Service, and I went out to see what a periscope looked like, and to prove some of my own pet theories as to the uselessness of these new-fangled things called submarines.’
‘Do tell me,’ I pleaded. ‘I’ll be very quiet if you will.’
‘It’s not a pleasant tale, though. I don’t know if——’
But the other guests, who had heard my account of the survivors’ experiences, clamoured for the story, and the gray-haired man gave way.