Before their eyes the other seemed to shake off ten years of age. He sprang into the boat as lightly as a boy. Three more followed, making twenty-two in all. Then the blocks creaked, and the boat was rapidly lowered to the water.
Oars began to ply vigorously, and she shot across the intervening space, and a minute later was alongside the submarine.
'You must wait there, please, gentlemen,' said Strang courteously. 'I have to deal with the troops at once. Keep well astern.'
Ken was aching to greet his father, but there was plenty for him to do for the moment. He had to translate the commander's orders, which were that all those aboard the steamer should get away at once in the boats. He gave them twenty minutes for the operation.
They were the longest twenty minutes Ken every knew, but they were over at last. The crowded boats pulled slowly away in a northerly direction, the big steamer floated empty and helpless.
'Do we board her, sir?' asked young Hotham of Strang.
'Yes, I'll save my torpedoes while I can. Put a good charge of gun-cotton in her hold. Quick as you can, Hotham. We may have a destroyer down on us any minute. You may be sure they had plenty of time to use their wireless.'
He turned to the boatful of released prisoners. They were of every sort, young and old—French, English, with even one or two Russians and Belgians.
'Gentlemen,' he said briefly, 'I can't ask you all aboard. The reason is obvious. In a submarine there is only room for a certain number, and I am already three beyond my proper complement. The question is, what I am to do with you for your safety, and I should be obliged if two of you would come aboard to discuss matters with me. One whom I will specially ask is Captain Carrington.'
Ken's breath came quickly as he watched his father step across out of the boat on to the steel deck of G2, but like the trained soldier that he was, he did not move. Strang, however, had not forgotten him.