"I give you twenty seconds to agree to my proposal," he said.
"You mentioned a good many proposals," replied the skipper of the "Guiding Star" sarcastically. "Which one do you mean?"
"To give us the British Admiralty sailing course."
"I'll see you to Hades first!" declared the prisoner.
Von Loringhoven began to count—slowly, in the hope that the Englishman's spirit would be broken under the prolonged mental strain.
Suddenly there was a peremptory knock at the cabin door, and in answer to an invitation to enter a petty officer appeared.
"Your pardon, Herr Kapitan, but Unter-Leutnant Kuhlberg ordered me to inform you that the English cruiser is in sight."
"Very good," replied the ober-leutnant. "Tell a couple of hands to lock this schweinhund in the empty store-room."
He waited until the prisoner had been removed, then snatching up his binoculars he hastened to bring the submarine awash. Five miles away was a large, grey four-funnelled cruiser. She had just altered helm on a zig-zag course, and her new direction, if maintained, would bring her within torpedo range of U 254.
"That is the 'Tantalus,'" declared the ober-leutnant. "Diving stations, there; launch home in both bow and broadside tubes. We'll have her right enough."