Ken, though he could not see what was happening, heard the beat of her screw, and every nerve in his body tingled. As for Captain Carrington and the rest, they sat in their places, not moving an inch, and doing their best to convey the idea that they were quite worn out, and cared not at all whether they were retaken or not.
Yet, under his coat, or in his pocket, each man gripped his revolver, while his cutlass lay handy at his feet.
The launch came on slowly, and her crew fortunately were hardly noticing the boat. Their eyes were busy, searching the misty surface for the periscope of their deadly enemy.
Only the German seemed to have any suspicion concerning those in the boat. When the launch was within about half a dozen yards, he spoke again.
'You there, Englishman, stand up!' he ordered sharply. 'You, I mean, the one who speaks German.'
Captain Carrington rose leisurely to his feet.
'You will be the first to pay for treachery,' said the German fiercely. 'Put your hands up.'
Ken quivered. To him it sounded as though his father's death warrant had been sounded. At the first sign of attack the German would shoot him. Yet he had his orders, and he dared not move.
It seemed an age before he felt a slight jar. It was the launch touching the boat.
'What's under that tarpaulin?' came the sharp question from the German.