It was sound strategy. The captain of the submarine evidently imagined that the trawler was approaching out of sheer curiosity, or that, seeing the barque hove-to, her master thought that the skipper of the British craft wished to communicate with the shore. Lying snugly under the port quarter of the barque, the submarine was now invisible from the trawler's deck, while the crew of the captured vessel were ordered not to give the alarm under penalty of death.
Meanwhile, the "Myrtle" and "Cinema," having crossed the barque's track, were able from a convenient distance to see what was going on.
The pirates made their captives work with the utmost dispatch, and in a very short time almost all of the barque's cargo and stores that they were in need of was transported to the submarine and stowed below.
This done, the captain was ordered to surrender his papers, but the stubborn old salt declared that he had heaved them overboard before capture. As a matter of fact they were slipped into the lining at the back of his coat. This act of non-compliance aroused the German captain's anger. Ordering the boats back to the barque, he told the skipper and crew that they had five minutes to clear out. At the expiration of that time limit, he would sink the vessel by gun-fire.
Directly the British officers on the "Myrtle" and "Cinema" saw that there were no longer any of the crew of the barque on or alongside the submarine a signal was sent to the "Asphodel." Instantly the ketch luffed up, ran under the barque's stern and came in sight, and within eighty or a hundred yards of the submarine, the crew of which were standing by their quick-firers, ready to hull and sink the prize.
"Heave-to, 'Asphodel'!" shouted the German captain in good English, as he read the name of the apparently unsuspecting trawler that had blundered right into his clutches. "Heave-to, or we'll sink you without mercy."
"Let them have it!" shouted Terence. He had no scruples now. It was a fair fight between a modern submarine, with her guns ready for action, and a trawler manned by a trained Navy crew.
Like a sheet of tissue paper caught in a furious wind the tarpaulin concealing the gun was whipped off; cool and collected the highly-trained gun-layer lingered a fraction of a second over the sights, then—crash!
Almost before the recoil of the weapon had been taken up by the hydraulic mountings the breech-block flew open with a clang and a fresh cartridge was inserted.
One round was enough.