"Robins, you're a marvel." The Captain ate hurriedly; and by the time he had finished, the yeoman was back again.
"Message passed, sir."
"Did she sound near?" the Captain asked.
"Can't say, sir. But the range of the emergency set isn't all that great and she 'came up' at once."
A moment later a telegraphist came on the bridge with a signal. He gave it to the yeoman, who handed it to the Captain. The message read: Acheron to Hecate. Expect to arrive your position 1200 today.
"That's heartening to know anyway," the Captain said as he handed it back.
Both the boats were now in the water, trying to haul the destroyer's stern round; but it was soon obvious that they could accomplish nothing. The loud-hailer was no longer working, so the Captain went aft himself and shouted over the guardrails.
"It's no good, Number One. You'd better wait until I've found out from the Chief when he thinks he'll have steam." With that he hurried down to the boiler room.
"Well, Chief?"
"Not too good, sir. But with luck we'll be able to give you some sort of steam. About twenty minutes more, I reckon."
"That'll have to do."
The Captain climbed the long ladders back to the deck. He shouted to the First Lieutenant, "Chief thinks he can give us steam at" — he glanced at his watch — "about half past ten. I think the boats had better take a box of grenades each and lay about half a mile off the U-boat. If she tries to move, the chances are that she won't be able to go very fast, and you might be able to intercept her. Don't start anything unless you have to — much better to let me ram her."
On his way back to the bridge he went into the sick bay to see the burned stokers from the forward boiler room. They were sleeping the merciful sleep that morphine gives. "Well, Doctor?"
"Not so bad, sir. They're terribly burned, and I'd like to get them into a proper hospital as soon as we can. But they'll be all right for the moment. When can we steam, sir?"
"Very soon now. Doc. I'm going to ram as soon as the Chief's got steam on his kettle. Come up, if you'd like, and watch the fun."
"Thanks, I will. As soon as I feel her move. I can't do anything more for these chaps."
The Captain went back to the bridge. It had not seemed twenty minutes since he'd been in the boiler room, but he had hardly arrived when the coxswain was calling up the voice pipe. "Engine room's rung the telegraphs, sir."
"Thank you, Coxswain." He was panting after his climb. Suddenly he realized that he had been without sleep since eight o'clock on Tuesday morning, and it was now almost Thursday noon. Fifty hours. Strangely, he felt less tired than he had the previous day.
"Coxswain, you'd better get down to the after-steering position. I'll have to conn you by telephone. Report as soon as you're ready."
Von Stolberg and Schwachofer, driving their men like furies, had succeeded in reloading two bow tubes; but unless they could turn the boat around, they could still not fire them at the destroyer. With perspiration running down their faces they had gone back to the control room.
"Kritz," said von Stolberg to the engineer, "I want to see if there is anything left in the battery. Use only the starboard engine." And to the quartermaster, Schrader: "Put your rudder hard over to port."
"Hard-a-port," Schrader repeated.
The Kapitan nodded at the engineer.
The orders were carried out. For a second that was agony to the waiting men no sound came. Then very slowly a gentle purring noise was heard.
"Starboard motor turning," Kritz's voice came in a whisper. The four Germans looked at each other and breathed deeply.
The motion of the boat changed. The seas were now astern of her. She hung poised on one and then her stern slid gracefully into the hollow. When it rose again the force of the next sea swung her around rapidly. Von Stolberg trained the periscope.
"Stand by tubes." He gave the order, and then, "Gentlemen, we will sink him now. She will come around slowly. Ah — very soon now. Stand by, Schwachofer — and stand by, you verdammt British — " A longer pause. "Du lieber Gott, he is moving! Kritz! Give her every bit of power you have."
"There is no more, Herr Kapitan."
"Port, you fool — hard-a-port."
"The rudder is hard over, Herr Kapitan."
"The motor has stopped, Herr Kapitan."
Von Stolberg raised his head and shoulders from the periscope. Schwachofer was astonished that any face could change so much in so short a time.
"Can we not angle the torpedoes?" Kritz suggested.
"What? Without electricity to set the attack table?"
The three Germans looked at each other. "The Cecilie will be here in one hour and twenty minutes," the Kapitan murmured.
"I fear the destroyer may be here first," Schwachofer said.
"He will ram us — if he has any sense," the Kapitan said. He started up the conning-tower ladder, then turned. "And I fear that he has. Unlock the revolver cabinet and give us one each."
Revolver in hand, the Kapitan climbed up the ladder.
"Starboard twenty," the Captain said into the telephone handset.
Slowly, very slowly, the destroyer began to move. Her head turned away from her enemy as she set out in a big quarter circle. She would make her final approach on her opponent's beam, where the blow that she intended to deal would be lethal.
" 'Midships. Yeoman, signal to the boats to close in."
"Aye aye, sir."
"Port five. Pilot, tell Guns to open fire whenever he can."
"Aye aye, sir."
The after gun began to fire steadily. Shots once more fell about the U-boat, and two more hits were scored. Then the gun stopped as the Hecate began to turn toward her quarry.
"Gunnery Officer reports target obscured, sir."
"Tell Guns it's cold steel now," the Captain answered.
Slowly and sedately the Hecate advanced. Coming downwind and downsea, she moved gracefully, her high bow with its long knife edge rising and falling as it cleft the seas in two.
"Port twenty." Sunlight flooded the scene. The blue-green waves were dancing, the graceful ship bowing to the swell. The Captain sensed rather than saw the Doctor coming up beside him, and was glad of the company of his friend.
"Starboard twenty." At slow speed, downsea, and with the rudder in the hand-steering that was so much slower than her steering engine, it was proving very difficult to keep the Hecate on a steady course. The Captain could imagine the sweating men below, working feverishly at the big hand wheel. Had he realized just how difficult it would be to steer her down the seas, he would have turned the other way and come upwind against the enemy. It was too late to change; and although he did not know it, the U-boat would have torpedoed him had he turned to port.
Closing now. They could see the conning tower plainly and a flaxen-haired man standing there.
"Port twenty."
Suddenly the Captain was aware of a rifle raised beside him. One of the signalmen was aiming at the solitary figure on the conning tower.
The Captain leapt at the gun and seized it from the astonished sailor. Then, realizing that a short while before he himself had been firing at the U-boat, he was forced to explain. "It's quite different now, Higgins. Before, there was a chance that they could torpedo us. Now they haven't an earthly — and in a moment they will be survivors."
The precious seconds could have been otherwise employed. A wave slightly irregular in comparison with its fellows rose a little to port of the Hecate s stern. She was already carrying twenty degrees of port rudder, and the bow swung rapidly to port, passing the conning tower of the U-boat at which the Captain had been aiming.