It had been more than two weeks since the sinking of the Hirondelle and the young men were growing very weary of the life. Their misery was increasing because of the uncertainty they knew their families must be in. No respite was in sight. They could tell by the balmy air when they were allowed on deck that they were further south than they had been when they were struck, but where, they had not the slightest idea.
“The water looks as it does around Burmuda, but surely we are not over there,” said Kent in Tutno.
“The Lord knows where we are!” answered Jim in the same language.
“I wish the brutes would let us telegraph our folks, somehow. They could do it if they chose. They can do anything, these Prussians.” When Kent said Prussians in Tutno: “Pup rur u sus sus i nun sus,” the young officer whose turn it was to guard them whipped out his note book and examined it closely.
“Sus often repeated!” he muttered.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE “SIGNY.”
“The orders of the Commander are for the Americans to disembark!”
A lieutenant clicked his heels in front of our friends and saluted.