CHAPTER XIV
A Neglected Warning
"Idiot!" snapped Denbigh under his breath. "Some irresponsible signalman acting the goat."
"Perhaps they think that our signal is a faked message coming from the enemy," suggested O'Hara. "Try them again: add your name and rank."
Denbigh repeated the message, making the additions his companion had proposed; but there was no reply—not even a facetious one.
The signalman of the destroyer was engaged in taking down another message from the shore, for the Germans, seeing the word 'rats' flashed from an enemy ship, came to the conclusion that it was a personal affront to themselves. Consequently the searchlights had been temporarily shut off and a signalling lamp brought into play to frame a fitting reply to the Englishmen's single-worded challenge.
"We must make a move," announced Denbigh, disappointed at his warning being ignored. "It will be daylight before we get back, if we don't hurry. I'd like to stop and watch the scrap, but we can't wait. They may not attack until close on dawn."
Already possessed of the German soldier's rifle, bayonet and ammunition, Denbigh led the way from the shore. As the subs crossed the path along which the telegraph line had been laid, Denbigh severed the copper wire in two places, making the cuts quite fifty feet from each other. The separated part he removed, rolling it into a small coil.
"They'll have a bit of a bother to find that, I fancy," he remarked. "Unless they bring a spare length with them that telephone will be useless for the next couple of hours."