Suddenly the steamer makes a rapid turn and comes straight towards us. Now we can see that the sturdy neutral has swung out her boats; obviously with intent to make more complete her character of a peaceful merchantman, is ready and prepared to follow all commands.
This remarkable civility on her part is quite sufficient for us. I send all the crew below deck and give the alarm at once.
We make ready to submerge, and in doing so move towards the steamer in order to lie broadside on to the sea, which makes diving easier.
Then, to our great amazement, the following incident occurs. Hardly has the "neutral" ship observed our movements and noticed that we are submerging, than she twists round with a jerk.
As we submerge we can still watch her as she wends her characteristic zigzag course, puffing out thick clouds of smoke behind her.
This confession of a bad conscience struck us profoundly. Never have we laughed so heartily as over the flight of this honest merchantman with her unknown course.
The artful dodger thought she was found out, and feared any moment we might send a torpedo into her ribs.
And how furious she must have been! It would have been so fine to approach quite near to the "pest" in the character of neutral ship, and then at a safe distance to let the mask of "harmlessness" drop, and shoot through the port-holes.
The trap was so beautifully laid. The German "pirate" had only to go just a little nearer. Instead we described a curve under water, and only rose to the surface again two hours later.
First I searched the horizon with the aid of the periscope. Then I opened the hatch of the conning-tower, which was still half submerged, in order to get a look round with the glasses. The air was clear. In the south the moon had risen, making the dusky light of the summer night even more transparent. But as far as the eye could see the sea was empty, no steamer was in sight.