Lawless glanced over the man's shoulder at the compass-card and then started to walk—or rather stagger—up and down the bridge in order to exercise his cramped muscles. Each time he reached the end of the bridge he grasped the rail and tried to pierce the surrounding blackness for any sign of a vessel, friendly or otherwise, but without success, because it was impossible to see more than a few yards ahead even between the rain squalls. Presently he bent down, glanced at the illuminated dial of his wrist-watch, and swore softly. There was still another half hour before his junior officer was due to relieve him on the bridge.
But at last there came the sound of a bell, and before it had died away a muffled figure crawled up through a hatchway aft and proceeded to stumble and slither along the deck in the direction of the bridge. Its progress was slow and precarious, and the remarks which emerged from beneath the hood were such as will not be found in a dictionary of nautical terms. Eventually it reached the perpendicular iron ladder leading to the bridge and, mounting it, was assisted on to the platform by an unexpected lurch which landed it somewhere in the vicinity of the quartermaster's sea-boots.
"That you, Trent?" inquired the Lieutenant, gazing down upon the recumbent bundle of clothes within which was concealed the person of Sub-Lieutenant Trent.
The figure slowly scrambled into an upright position, but without ceasing to emit curses upon the universe in general and the weather in particular.
"When you've quite finished offering up praise for having been born a sailor bold I'll leave you in charge," said Lawless. "Keep a southerly course and look out for submarines."
"Submarines!" snorted the junior officer. "Why not aeroplanes as well? It'd be as easy to see one as the other a night like this."
"Well, keep a bright look-out."
"A bright look-out——" the Sub-Lieutenant's reply was drowned by another squall, and Lawless, with a sigh of relief, descended to the deck. Seeing the door of the galley open, he stepped in and demanded of the cook a mug of hot cocoa. With this between his hands the Lieutenant perched himself upon the locker and, in defiance of the rules of conduct towards subordinates as laid down by my Lords of the Admiralty, swapped weather anecdotes with the cook. Then, having finished his cocoa, he slid off the locker and started to scramble aft towards the hatch which gave entrance to his cabin. But he had not covered more than half the distance when out of the darkness came the sound of a shot.
The Lieutenant swung round, and as he did so the white beam of the Knat's searchlight suddenly flashed out and, after waving about like some gigantic feeler, finally came to rest at a point about fifty yards astern. Beneath its glare could be seen a small patrol steamer and alongside her with platform awash, a German submarine with U77 painted on her conning tower.
Forgetting all about his much-needed rest, Lawless hastened back to the bridge. From the fact that the submarine had not torpedoed the patrol boat, he concluded that the German commander had boarded her in the hope of obtaining some information from the skipper concerning the movements of the fleet. The conning tower hatch was open and a machine-gun on the for'ard platform was trained on the boat.