Half a dozen men from the O47 were placed on board the Gelderland as a prize crew, and Chard, before leaving, advised Lawless to make straight for Plymouth. Then he returned to the trawler and the two vessels slowly drew apart and were lost to each other in the darkness.
"Keep her nose to the west," Lawless told the quartermaster, and then dived into the chart-room to lay out his course for Plymouth. This done, he stepped out on to the bridge again and peered into the darkness. The Eddystone Light was not visible yet, and he was about to return, when there came a shout from the look-out on the fo'c'sle head.
"Light on the port bow, sir!"
The Lieutenant leaned over the bridge-rail and stared into the night, but could see nothing. He was about to hail the look-out man, when he saw a faint yellow glimmer appear for a second, and vanish, but this time it was on the starboard side.
"Queer," he murmured.
He started towards the other end of the bridge, and accidentally knocked his foot against something. Stooping down, he found it was a signal-lamp, but different to the one he had been used to handling. Thoughtlessly, he picked it up and tried the shutter; a beam of yellow light flashed out and was gone. Then, as if in answer to it, the mysterious light to starboard flicked twice and disappeared again.
"Oh-h!" murmured Lawless.
It had come upon him that the light was a signal from a submarine, and that, in moving the shutter of the signal-lamp, he had unwittingly answered it. Here, indeed, was a chance of recovering his reputation, for there could be no doubt that the submarine was a U boat. If only it could be captured or sunk!
He crossed to the bridge telegraph and rang down "Stop!" to the engine-room. The machinery ceased throbbing, and the Gelderland, losing way, began to roll in a nasty fashion. Then, out of the darkness, a voice hailed her in German. The Lieutenant shouted back some meaningless gibberish, trusting to the wind to make his voice indistinct. This done, he hurried on to the deck, flung a rope ladder over the taffrail, and whispered some instructions to the bos'n.
Leaning over the bulwarks, he saw the shadowy outline of a large submarine alongside, her deck awash, and with a man standing on the hatch-cover, clinging to an inadequate handrail. The man flung out a rope with a hook at the end, caught one of the rungs of the rope ladder, and drew it towards him. Clutching it, he allowed himself to swing off the hatch, and next moment was clambering over the bulwarks. Then, as he reached the deck, a couple of seamen sprang out of the shadows and bore him down before he could utter a cry.