Three-quarters of an hour later, the smack ran alongside one of the patrol-boats operating in Christchurch Bay, and reported the incident. Quickly the news was wirelessed, and a regular fleet of swift motor-boats was soon upon the scene, while overhead a couple of sea-planes hovered, in the hope of detecting the shadow of the U boat against the white sandy bottom.
But in vain. The unter-leutnant's threat that he purposed remaining in the vicinity for an hour was a mere piece of bluff. Without loss of time, the submarine was running at her maximum submerged speed in a south-westerly direction, intent upon putting as great a distance as possible between her and the hornets whose activities had already taken a heavy toll from these modern pirates of the Black Cross Ensign.
U99 was one of the most recent type of unterseebooten. Possessing a great radius of action, she combined the roles of mine-layer and submerged torpedo-craft. She was one of nine detailed for operations in the English Channel, and, since the passage through the Straits of Dover had long been regarded as "unhealthy" by the German Admiralty, the flotilla had been ordered to proceed and return via the Faroe Isles and the west coast of Ireland.
Although the U99 had disposed of her cargo of mines without mishap--several of the German submarines having been "hoist with their own petards"--her efforts had not met with marked success. Beyond torpedoing a tramp, and sinking another by gun-fire, she had failed to carry out the work of frightfulness that had been expected of her. Having exhausted her stock of torpedoes, and making only one effective hit, she was on her way home.
After three hours of terrible suspense, when she found herself enmeshed in a net somewhere off the back of the Wight--a predicament from which she freed herself by means of the specially-devised wire-cutters on her bows--U99 was forced to come up for a breather early in the morning. Provisions were running short, and the sight of the solitary fishing-smack tempted her commander to investigate, with the result that Sub-lieutenant Sefton and his brother found themselves in the unenviable position of prisoners in the hands of the enemy. More, they were cooped up in a wretched U boat, faced with the possibility of being hunted by their fellow-countrymen and consigned to Davy Jones in the undesirable company of a crew of piratical Huns.
No wonder that Jack felt like kicking himself for having embarked upon the ill-starred voyage in the smack Fidelity.
"Yes, by Jove!" he muttered. "Here's a pretty kettle of fish--and the lid on with a vengeance."
[CHAPTER XXI--U99]
During the first hour of their captivity Jack Sefton and his brother were left alone, locked in a narrow, ill-lighted compartment in the after part of the submarine. Overhead they could hear the ceaseless clank of the steering-gear, while the crowded space within the hull echoed to the noisy clatter of the propelling machinery.
Outwardly calm, the sub was raging furiously. Yielding to his sense of discretion, and realizing the importance of reassuring his young brother, he made a brave show at keeping up his spirits. On several occasions he had found himself in a tight corner, but now there was the humiliation of being captured in a most ignominious fashion, without being able to raise a hand in self-defence.