"Is—is that you, Misther Madden?" chattered Hogan.
"Yes, yes, ropes, before we drown!"
"Was that you shootin' at us over there?"
"They were shooting at us! They hit two or three of us! Hurry!"
"And who's all that wid ye? Faith, the wather's alive wid min!"
"We're the crew of th' Vukan!" "Throw down ropes!" "Shut up and throw down ropes, ye bloody Irishman!" howled an angry chorus.
"Th' crew o' th' Vulcan, and thim all dead, these weeks ago! Sure if it's a lot o' ghosts——"
But others of the crew summoned enough courage to fling down aid to their old comrades, and soon the men came crawling up the dark sides of the tug and dropped limply inboard.
The utmost excitement played over the crew of the dock when they identified the former crew of the Vulcan. The air was full of excited questions and tired answers, but presently the word got out. It was "War." The news passed from mouth to mouth and grew in portentousness. War! Nations were at war! These men had escaped from a German warship!
It was unbelievable. It was stunning. Presently Caradoc shouted out in the darkness for Malone, Mate Malone. The cockney answered.