For some minutes there was a dead silence on the part of the astonished Germans, broken only by the moaning of the wind through the rigging and the lap of the water against the trawler's sides. Then, giving a hasty glance round to assure himself that no vessel was within hailing distance, and realising that the daring Englishman was alone, the skipper gave a hurried order.
The next moment Terence was confronted by the muzzles of half a dozen automatic pistols.
"Surrender yourself, Englishman," replied the skipper. "You mad; you all alone. Hands up, or you dead man."
"Perhaps," remarked Terence, with outward calmness, although he remembered with some misgivings that the hair trigger of an automatic pistol is a delicate piece of mechanism for a horny-handed seaman to play with. "If you shoot you'll make things a jolly sight worse for you than they are already. You're properly cornered. The two motor-boats are waiting a short distance off, and there's a destroyer only too ready to bear a hand."
"Vot you going der do?" asked the German, in a chastened tone.
"To summon assistance and take possession of an enemy ship. The more trouble you give, my friend, the worse it will be for you."
[Illustration: "Taking a quick yet steady aim, the Sub. pressed the trigger.">[
The skipper shrugged his shoulders, then hastily addressed his crew. The latter put up their pistols, sullenly and almost mutinously. One of the men hurried across the deck and drew a signal rocket from a locker. This he affixed to the vessel's side and produced a match.