Sefton was not long left in doubt, for presently an officer in uniform corresponding to that of a lieutenant-commander entered the cabin.
"So!" he exclaimed triumphantly, as he thumbed the pages of a British Navy List. "We fine bag have made. 'Sefton, John B. G.' That not the same as Smith, hein?"
The sub vouchsafed no remark. He felt horribly humiliated by his position and by the easy manner in which he had been bowled out. Also, he realized that now the chances of the prisoners being set on board a passing vessel had been entirely knocked on the head.
"We take you back to Zhermany," continued the kapitan of the submarine. "Day after to-morrow we land you at Wilhelmshaven at exactly nine o'clock."
The day after to-morrow--at nine o'clock. That would be Monday, and at that hour Sefton was due for "divisions" at Portsmouth Naval Barracks. The irony of his position ate into his soul.
"If not, you will be a corpse at the bottom of the sea," rejoined the German pointedly. "Now get your clothes on, and take good care to yourselves behave."
The kapitan quitted the cabin, leaving Sefton and his brother to resume their garments. This they did in silence, for Leslie had noticed his brother's despondency and chagrin.
Except for the periods when they were ordered forward for meals, the prisoners were left severely alone. Of the passing of time they had but a remote idea, since the sub had wisely left his watch ashore before proceeding on the ill-starred trip in the Fidelity. Certain it was that, for nearly twelve hours, U99 remained submerged, running on her electric power.
Then she rose to the surface. The petrol engines were coupled up, and at an increased speed the submarine proceeded, in what direction Sefton had no idea. Without means of consulting a compass, and confined below, he was in total ignorance of the vessel's course.
At length, dead-tired, for neither of the twain had slept the previous night, Jack and Leslie threw themselves down on the floor. There was no need for bedding. The heat of the confined space was too oppressive for that. For a long while the sub tossed uneasily on his hard couch, finally dropping off into a fitful slumber.