A few lights were burning upon the destroyer’s deck, but otherwise she seemed deserted; possibly the Seuen-H’sin believed we had perished in the blowing up of the Nippon, and that they had nothing more to fear from intruders.
All at once, as we began to drop below the vessel, Ensign Hallock gave an order to cease rowing. Drawing us close together so we could hear his whispered words, he announced:
“Boys, let’s try to recapture the Albatross!”
Then, with repressed excitement, he unfolded a plan.
To our ears the ensign’s words sounded like a proposal of suicide; but the situation was appallingly desperate, and the upshot of the matter was that we decided to make the attempt.
“Who is to go with you?” I asked Hallock.
Several of the men promptly volunteered, and the ensign selected a muscular seaman named Jim Burns.
Agreeing upon a signal that should inform us when to follow them, the officer and his partner slipped off most of their clothing and, arming themselves only with knives, swam away. In a few seconds they were lost from sight.
From Hallock himself, afterward, I learned the story of their daring undertaking—although I am certain he greatly minimized the dangers they ran.
Reaching the deep shadows beside the destroyer, Hallock and Burns swam forward to the anchor chain hanging from the bow. There they waited a time, but, hearing not a sound from above, the officer climbed up the chain and looked over the edge of the deck. No one was in sight.