"I've a good mind to report you for insubordination and—and cheek," observed the Lieutenant, taking no pains to conceal his enjoyment of the other's misfortune.
"And I'll sue you for a new suit of duds, Lawless, you dismal idiot. It's all through you that I'm soaked to the skin with this confounded coffee."
A week later Lieutenant-Commander Lawless, bound for Cork via Plymouth, was reclining at his ease in the comfortable little smoking-room of the Lake Killarney, one of the miniature liners which carry passengers to and from Ireland. Lawless had decided to spend his holiday on the west coast of the Emerald Isle, and had provided himself with golf clubs, fishing rods, and other implements of innocent sport wherewith to while away his leisure. The only thing which troubled him was his customary want of cash, and when he thought of the thousand pounds waiting to be earned, he heaved a sigh of deep regret. If only he could have brought down another Zeppelin....
Now, Lawless, as those who have followed his turbulent career are aware, was one of those hapless individuals who seem to be marked out as the sport of destiny. On this particular occasion the mischievous planet under which the Lieutenant had first seen the light must have twinkled with more than its usual malignity, for, within twelve hours of setting forth on his pleasure trip, he was a prisoner in the hands of the Germans.
It came about in this manner. The Lake Killarney had barely left the Seven Stones Light on her port quarter when, not more than fifty yards away on her starboard bow, there arose the conning tower of a large German submarine. Before the captain of the steamer was aware of this unwelcome visitor the latter had sent a couple of shots across his bows as a peremptory signal to stop. The Lake Killarney, being a slow boat and unarmed withal, there was nothing for it but to obey, and accordingly she was hove-to.
The shots had awakened Lawless, at the time peacefully asleep in his bunk, and scrambling into his trousers he rushed upon deck to see what all the noise was about. Other passengers, in even lighter attire, also hastened on deck, where the crew, in obedience to orders, were lowering the lifeboats. Lawless at once proceeded to help the women and children into them, and then, with the captain, got into the last one to leave the ship. As the boat pulled away from the Lake Killarney the German commander ordered her to come alongside the submarine; an order which, in view of the machine-gun on her for'a'd platform, it would have been unwise to ignore. Then the German officer proceeded to put the Captain through a pretty severe cross-examination concerning the whereabouts of various portions of the British Fleet and other matters which he desired to know. The Captain, however, was able to profess ignorance in nearly every case, and where he could not, lied like a Trojan.
"We've been trying to get at your wonderful fleet for the last eighteen months," said the German, "but it's managed to elude us so far. Still, we'll drag it out of its hiding place before long, and then Guten Tag to the British Navy."
"What's the good of unloading that piffling swank," exclaimed Lawless, unable to contain himself any longer. "We taught you a lesson at Heligoland, and when we do meet your High Canal Fleet there'll be another island in the North Sea—made of German scrap-iron."
"Himmel! I'll put a bullet through you, insolent English pig!" cried the German, at the same time producing an automatic pistol. "Who is this man?" he added, turning to the Captain.
"Lieut.-Commander Lawless, I believe," answered the latter unthinkingly.