Meanwhile the airship, left to its own devices, since the helmsman had abandoned the wheel, had turned eight degrees to port and was travelling at a rate of 120 miles an hour on a course N. by W.
Von Sinzig, who "had the wind up" as badly as anybody, was nowhere to be found for some time. Leutter even came to the conclusion that his superior officer had leapt overboard when the alarm of fire had been raised; but after a lapse of twenty-five minutes the count re-appeared, looking very grey and haggard.
"I think I must have been stunned, Herr Leutter," he said in explanation.
His subordinate accepted the excuse without smiling incredulously. He had seen his chief bolting for his very life. He certainly did not look like being stunned.
"Take charge for a while," continued von Sinzig. "I am not feeling well. I must go to my cabin and lie down."
He staggered aft along the narrow catwalk, while the Unter-Leutnant gave orders for the airship to be brought back on her original course.
It was easier said than done. The gigantic gas-bag was see-sawing erratically. She had difficulty in answering to her helm, and in spite of the fact that the horizontal rudders were trimmed for ascending, the airship was decreasing her altitude.
Then reports began to come in from the still "jumpy" crew. The engineer reported that the after propeller was damaged; another man announced that there was a large gash in the aluminium envelope, and that several of the after ballonets were leaking rapidly.
Further examination revealed the grave fact that one of the propeller blades had fractured, and the flying piece of metal had penetrated the gas-bag at about eighty feet from the after-end. So great had been the velocity of the broken blade that it had practically wrecked every gas compartment in the stern of the envelope.
Unter-Leutnant Leutter sent a man to inform von Sinzig. He had to do that, although he would have preferred to act upon his own initiative. He was decidedly "fed up" with his arrogant and craven skipper.