The ober-leutnant deemed it quite safe to bring the U-boat to the surface. As soon as the submarine's deck was awash, von Loringhoven called away the guns' crews, and, followed by Kulhberg, he emerged from the conning-tower.
At the sight of the submarine bearing down upon the boats the survivors of the torpedoed tramp lay on their oars.
"What is the name of the ship we have sunk?" demanded von Loringhoven.
"The 'Guiding Star' of Newcastle, from Bahia to London with a general cargo," replied the master promptly.
"Where are your papers?"
"With the ship. We hadn't too much time," was the answer.
"Come alongside," was the ober-leutnant's next order.
The boats closed. The men had no option but to obey, but even the muzzles of the two quick-firers failed to terrorise them.
"You have had enough of the sea, captain," continued von Loringhoven mockingly.
"Not I," replied the master, a short, broad-shouldered man of about fifty, whose iron-grey hair contrasted vividly with his brick-red features, dark with hardly suppressed anger. "I'll put to sea again within twenty-four hours if my owners give me another ship. Next time I fall in with you I hope the boot will be on the other foot. It won't be my fault if it isn't."