The order was now given for the men to "stand easy." Pipes and cigarettes were lighted and conversation began, although curiously enough the present state of affairs was hardly discussed. The chief anxiety on the part of the ship's company appeared to be the possibility of having to "stand by" the vessel, or whether there would be general leave granted before the men returned to the depôt for commissioning another craft.
Parties were told off to go below and salve various articles. The paymaster was working heroically, directing the removal of the ship's ledgers, the men's "parchments "—the seaman's record during the course of his career afloat—and other documents. The "coin" also was brought on deck, buoyed lines being attached to the canvas bags, so that the money could be recovered should the "Tantalus" sink in comparatively shallow water. The Treasury notes were left severely alone, since others could be issued in lieu of the missing numbers.
Most of the ward-room and gun-room officers not actually on duty also went below, the former to their cabins and the latter to their "common room," in order to retrieve their small but personally valuable belongings. Amongst them went Farrar, with Bruno, not completely recovered from his indisposition, ambling in his wake.
At the foot of the ladder leading to the halfdeck the sub encountered the captain of marines, followed by two stalwart men carrying the ward-room gramophone.
"Hullo, Slogger!" exclaimed the captain. "Do you want to buy a clinking little motorbike? I've a beauty stowed away in the steerage flat. What offers for spot cash?"
"Half a crown!" offered the sub promptly.
"Make it four shillings and it's a deal," rejoined the marine officer laughingly. "Done. I'll write you out a receipt when we get ashore. By the by, Farrar, talk about devotion to duty under hazardous circumstances, one of those bright bounders (indicating the two marines who were just disappearing over the coaming of the hatchway) deserves the Iron Cross of the Nth Degree—and all on account of that ferocious beast of yours."
The captain patted Bruno's massive head, and whimsically eyed the sub.
"How was that?" asked Farrar, unable to restrain his curiosity.
"The door of the padre's cabin was open," continued the marine officer, "and on the floor was Private Puddicombe diligently carrying out pre-torpedoing instructions by mopping up the corticine, It seems to me that there'll be water enough and to spare in the Woolly Lamb's den before very long. Hullo! What's up now?"