"Ach! How far from the coast? And what part of the coast? Did you ascend from a ship or from a harbour?"
Fuller shook his head.
"I cannot say," he replied.
The German took the refusal quite in good part.
"I do not blame you for refusing," he remarked. "Any brave man, be he German or English, would do the same. Now, sir, am I to have any better luck with you? Your name?"
The A.P. told him his name and rank, but resolutely declined to commit himself on other points. His captor merely grunted with the air of a man who has been given information of little or no interest. Kirkwood had not broken out of a German prison. Compared with the redoubtable Fuller he was a nonentity in the eyes of the kapitan-leutnant.
A gong clanged noisily in the conning-tower, its verberations outvoicing the pulsations of the oil-fed motors. Without a word the submarine's commander sprang to the ladder and, ascending, left Fuller and his companion in misfortune standing at the foot of the table.
A hoarse order, followed by the heavy pattering of sea,—boots upon the deck and the metallic clash of water-tight hatches being closed, denoted that UC49 was being trimmed for diving.
Fuller felt a hand tap him on the shoulder.
"Get you outside!" ordered the young unter-leutnant, indicating the for'ard compartment.