Accordingly U75 gave the Eddystone a wide berth, shaping a course to pass twenty miles to the south'ard of the far-famed lighthouse. Here she was in the thick of the Channel traffic, a stream of mercantile ships passing up and down as unconcernedly as if such a thing as a German submarine did not exist.
Although there were plenty of opportunities, Kapitan Schwalbe made no attempt to molest the ships. For one thing, experience had taught him that the British merchant skipper possessed a bull-dog tenacity, and a courage not to be daunted by the sight of a hostile periscope appearing from nowhere in the midst of a waste of water. For another, he was now on the look-out for more important game—his chance to retrieve his already vanishing prestige.
However, one of the merchant vessels served him a good purpose, although unknown to her. Marking a large ocean tramp bound up-Channel, U75 dived deeply, so as to be free from any danger of being hit by her forefoot.
With the noise of the tramp's propeller to guide her, U75 followed, unsuspected, in her wake as she made for the Lizard Light.
Arriving safely at the rendezvous, Kapitan Schwalbe waited until it was dark, and then cautiously brought the submarine awash. Punctually at ten o'clock a feeble violet light blinked through the night. It was U77's call to her consort.
"What's the game, I wonder?" asked Vernon, as a hail in German was borne faintly to their ears.
The chums had turned in. There was nothing else for them to do, since they had been ordered to leave the quarters allotted to the crew. As there was no furniture of any description in the alley-way that had been made their sleeping compartment, they had climbed into their bunks. Here they could maintain an almost uninterrupted conversation.
"Hist!" exclaimed Ross warningly. He had been lying with his ear almost touching one of the many voice-tubes that led from the conning-tower to various parts of the submarine. Quite by accident, he discovered that the pipes formed an excellent conductor of sound in a manner that had not been intended.
"What are you doing?" asked Haye curiously.
"Jam your ear against the centre one of these three pipes," said his chum.
Vernon did so. It required very little movement on his part, since the bunks were rather narrow. The same voice-tube that Ross was "tapping" ran vertically past Haye's bunk, which was immediately underneath the one Trefusis had appropriated from the time when he had been laid upon it under the influence of the injection.
This particular pipe formed a means of vocal communication between the conning-tower and Kapitan Schwalbe's cabin. For some reason the whistle had been removed from the cabin end, and consequently sounds from the Kapitan's quarters were conveyed with tolerable clearness.
There were two men engaged in conversation. One was Kapitan Schwalbe; the other, who spoke in a lower key, and so rapidly that Ross had great difficulty in mentally translating his words, was the Lieutenant-Commander of U77. He had been put aboard U75 only a few minutes previously.
"My dear von Hoffner," Kapitan Schwalbe was saying. "Your plan is all very well as far as you are concerned; but where do we come in? Understand that while we are on the surface our risks are increased ten-fold. Suppose, for instance, the battleship does not notice, or affects not to notice, the white flag?"
"She will, right enough," assured the Lieutenant-Commander of U77. "These English are such fools that in their anxiety to observe the rules of warfare" (here von Hoffner laughed sardonically) "they play into our hands. More than a twelvemonth of war has not taught them that the hitherto recognized observances of war are no longer binding. This is not a petty squabble between two nations. It is a struggle for existence; consequently it is where our frightfulness scores."
"It hasn't up to the present, according to my experience," objected Kapitan Schwalbe gloomily. "These Englishmen simply won't be frightened. But to return once more to the point: what steps do you propose to take to minimize my risk?"
"There must be risk, of course," remarked von Hoffner. "According to latest reports, it seems pretty certain that we cannot hope to intercept the Tremendous during the hours of darkness. Consequently we have to make use of a ruse. Directly I spot her I dive, keeping as much as possible close to her track, say three hundred metres off."
"Yes, you dive," commented Schwalbe caustically. "That is quite feasible. But what of U75?"
"She will keep on the surface almost exactly in the indicated path of the battleship. You will strike your ensign and hoist a large white flag in its place. It will mean scrapping your best tablecloth, mein herr. With the wind in its present quarter the flag will blow athwart the battleship's course, so there is no risk of it not being seen. You and your crew will, of course, form up aft. That will give more colour to the deception."
"Perhaps it will work," said Kapitan Schwalbe.
"Perhaps? Of course it will," declared von Hoffher sanguinely. "Then the rest is child's play. Directly the Tremendous slows down—it's the speed of these battleships that has caused us to miss hitherto—I will let loose two torpedoes. There will be no bungling, I assure you. I'll take good care to hit her close to the magazine, and there will be no opportunity for her to use her quick-firers.
"By the by, I've two English boys on board," said the Kapitan of U75. In a few words he related the circumstances in which they were made prisoners. "I suppose they ought to line up on deck with the hands?"
"Certainly," replied von Hoffher, with one of his cold-blooded sniggers. "It will heighten the illusion. It will do them good to see what one of our unterseebooten can do. But it is highly important that there be no survivors from the torpedoed battleship. The ruse is a grand one, and can be employed over and over again, provided that the secret does not leak out. After all, I don't think I would bring these English youths on deck."
"They are safe enough," protested Schwalbe. "If we return to Wilhelmshaven, they will be locked up in safe custody until the end of the war. If we do not, then I fancy there will be no survivors from U75 as well as from the English battleship Tremendous."
The two treacherous officers conversed in a similar strain for several minutes longer. Then came the sound of glasses being clinked as an accompaniment to a boastful toast. Talking boisterously, the two officers left the cabin, and presently the lads heard the sound of oars as von Hoffner was rowed back to his command.
CHAPTER XI. Preparations
"The brutes!" ejaculated Vernon savagely. He was violently excited. Perspiration was pouring off his face at the thought of the almost unparalleled act of wanton treachery that was about to be enacted. "If we could only prevent them!"
"I can't see how," rejoined Ross gloomily. "We cannot give an alarm. If we could control the valves for half a minute, I'd sink this blessed craft with all on board, myself included, for good and all. But it is no use talking of the impossibly heroic."
"I have a plan," announced Vernon, after thinking deeply for a few minutes.
"Well, out with it!"
"We have to pass through one of the broadside torpedo-rooms as we go on deck. We could each snatch a spanner and give the war-heads a terrific blow. You'll remember that there are half a dozen torpedoes in the cages against the bulkhead. It would mean certain death for us, but it would save nearly a thousand lives."