"No; she wouldn't lift as she's doing. Besides, the crew are moving about. Let's bang on the door with our boots."
For several minutes they hammered, but without result. The air, never very fresh, was now almost unbearable, owing to lack of ventilation. The imprisoned youths began to get desperate.
Then, without warning, the door slid back. The alley-way was flooded with brilliant light.
"Make haste!" shouted a voice which the lads recognized as that of Hans Koppe. At the same time he grasped Ross by the shoulder and literally dragged him across the steel threshold. Vernon followed quickly, but barely had he gained the compartment beyond than the massive steel door shot back again.
"Didn't you hear the order all hands for'ard?" asked Hans, not unkindly, for the white faces of the English lads told their own tale.
"No," replied Ross. "Besides, we are not included in the 'hands', are we?"
"You'll have to bear the consequences if you don't obey," rejoined Koppe. "I'm supposed to be looking after you, but how was I to know you hadn't turned out? Fortunately for you, I heard your knocking, and asked Herr Kapitan to open the doors. He was angry, but did so."
"What has happened then?" asked Trefusis, for the seaman seemed in a communicative mood.
"A shift of wind. It's blowing great guns up aloft, and there's a terrific tumble into this channel. We've dragged, or, rather, swung round our anchor."
"But we are safe enough?" asked Vernon.