Noiselessly the three men followed their captain. Forty yards of open ground separated them from their intended captive. Nearly half this distance was covered when the madman suddenly rose and looked over his shoulder. His wild glance fell upon his would-be assailants.
"Bowl him over," shouted Captain Restronguet, breaking into a run.
The German waited apathetically till the nearest of his foes was within ten yards. Then, uttering a wild unearthly laugh, he turned and dashed headlong into the river. Half a dozen strokes brought him to the stern of the submarine. Here he tried to haul himself up, clinging tenaciously to the slight support afforded by the upper edge of the propeller brackets. Baulked in this direction he slipped back into the water and swam to the other side of the "Vorwartz."
By this time the whole of the landing party arrived on the scene. Half a dozen powerful men tailed on to the stern warp till it was almost as taut as a bar of steel. Two others, one being O'Shaunessey, grasping the rope with both hands and throwing their legs round it began to make their way towards the submarine; but before they had swung themselves over half the distance the maniac appeared on deck.
Once more drawing his revolver, from which the moisture dripped copiously, he steadied it in the crook of his arm and pressed the trigger. The hammer clicked harmlessly on the empty chambers. With a snarl of rage the German hurled the useless weapon not at the two men hanging on to the rope, but at the group ashore. It whizzed perilously close to Captain Restronguet's head, bouncing on the sun-baked mud.
"Attract his attention," ordered Captain Restronguet. "Try to entice him towards the bows and give those fellows a chance to board."
Picking up lumps of hard mud the "Aphrodite's" men opened a heavy yet comparatively harmless fusillade upon the solitary figure upon the deck of the "Vorwartz." Still keeping up his discordant yells the madman stooped and picked up an object at his feet. With wellnigh superhuman force he hurled it at his assailants. The missile fell at Hythe's feet. Something prompted him to stoop and examine it. It was an ingot of pure gold.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I never had gold thrown at me before!"
His remark attracted the attention of the men nearest to him.
"Keep it up, old sport," shouted Carclew. "We don't mind."