"We are from Messina, bound for Damietta, with a general cargo, illustrious kapitan," he replied.
"Ach! general cargo—contraband every kilogramme. Abandon your craft. I give you five minutes."
"But," protested the pseudo Greek, "we have only one small boat, and we are many leagues from the nearest land. Bad weather threatens. Have you no mercy?"
"Since you Grecian dogs are fond of licking the feet of your accursed taskmasters who are the enemies of the German Fatherland," snapped the Hun, "you can drown or starve for aught I care. In any case, you will have plenty of time for reflection. Hasten; one minute of the five has already gone."
With every semblance of panic-stricken haste the members of the "theatrical stunt" threw themselves upon the boat amidships, swinging it outboard by means of tackle from the yards.
Jabbering in imitation of the cosmopolitan seafarers of various Mediterranean ports the disguised bluejackets leapt into the boat and began to row away from the felucca as hard as they could.
Farrar glanced aft. A seaman had crawled to the taffrail, and was handling the ensign halliards in gleeful anticipation, while another man was "standing by" the halliard of the Greek flag—or, rather, he was sitting on the deck with the uncleated ropes in his horny hands.
The U-boat was approaching slowly. To save time in the expected looting operations she evidently meant to run alongside. She was now but a cable's length away.
The sub sprang to his feet. Simultaneously the blue and white striped flag was struck, while a tug on the ensign halliards "broke out" the British White Ensign. Down fell several sections of the hinged steel bulwarks, revealing to the astounded Huns the deck of the felucca crowded with armed bluejackets and the muzzles of the two four-inch quick-firers pointing straight at the U-boat's conning tower.
"Surrender instantly!" shouted the sub in stentorian tones.