"Bother the fellow!" exclaimed Peter. "He's done me out of the salt sea breezes. All right, I'll keep below; but really I don't see the use of doing so. It's not likely that a first-class passenger would invade the quarters of the steerage passengers."
Assisted by a funny but powerful little tug, the Koning der Zee drew clear of the wharf, and, slipping between the piers, gained the choppy waters of the North Sea.
Beyond territorial waters danger unseen lurked. All on board realized the fact--it was Germany's version of the freedom of the seas. Serving out the life-belts was in itself a significance. Yet undeterred, the captain of the Koning der Zee had sailed regularly since the memorable 4th of August, 1914, risking U-boats and floating mines to uphold the flag of Holland on waters that were hers by equal right with other nations of the world.
Less than thirty miles from the Dutch coast the Koning der Zee met her doom. Travelling at twenty-two knots, her bows struck the flexible wire bridle connecting a pair of mines. Like porpoises, the deadly cylinders swung towards the ship under the strain on the span. One struck the hull just below the water-line on the starboard side, nearly abaft the foremost funnel; the second bumped heavily under her port quarter. Practically simultaneously the deadly mechanical mines exploded. Calculated to blow a hole in the bottom of the most strongly constructed war-ship afloat, the mines simply pulverized the thin steel plating of the luckless Dutch vessel. Amidst the rush of escaping steam the Koning der Zee began to settle rapidly.
Well it was that the passenger list was a light one. Notwithstanding the fact that three boats had been blown to fragments by the explosions, the rest were practically intact. Promptly the undismayed crew bundled the passengers into them and lowered away--an easy task, since the vessel was sinking on a comparatively even keel.
The captain and the wireless operator were the last to leave, the latter striving in vain to get the damaged transmitter into working order until peremptory orders from his superior obliged him to desist.
Within eight minutes the Koning der Zee had disappeared beneath the element which in name she professed to rule, leaving five boats tossing upon the choppy seas.
"You've got plenty of sea breezes now, Peter," remarked his brother as they sat on the stern grating of one of the life-boats. "And salt spray thrown in. I wonder what the next move is to be?"
"I don't mind very much, provided we are not picked up by a German ship," replied Peter. "Where's your pal the spy?"
"In there," said Malcolm, indicating one of the boats lying at about a hundred yards distance. "He was mighty sharp in nipping in."