CHAPTER VI
A Prisoner of War
The Sub-lieutenant made the best of a bad job. Although weak withexhaustion and exposure to the elements, he held his head high as hewas taken on board the submarine.
The coxswain and stroke of the whaler, who had assisted their youngofficer, were curtly ordered back. The U-boat was not engaged upon anerrand of mercy. It was the British officer who was wanted for adefinite purpose. The men did not count. In the eyes of the Germansthe hapless British seamen were almost beneath notice, although inother circumstances the Huns would have feared to have met them infair fight.
As he gained the bulging deck of the pirate craft, Seton, steadyinghimself by the guard-rail, turned to bid good-bye and good luck tohis men. Guessing his intention the unter-leutnant gave a curt order.Instantly two German sailors laid hold of the British officer; andwithout ceremony took him below.
In the act of descending the vertical ladder, Alec caught sight ofCount Otto von Brockdorff-Giespert and the kapitan of the U-boat.Both were vastly enjoying the British officer's discomfiture. CountOtto, in spite of his injuries and dishevelled appearance, wassmoking a cigar and holding a steaming cup of "coffee substitute".
"I owe this young Englishman a debt," he remarked grimly to thecommander of the U-boat. "I will take good care that I repay it withinterest."
It was the Prussian touch all over. Von Brockdorff-Giespert totallyignored the fact that his foes had saved his life. He attributed hismisfortunes mainly to Sub-lieutenant Seton, as if the latter had beenactuated by feelings of personal animosity rather than sheer devotionto duty. Already the Hun had made up his mind to inflict everypossible indignity upon the prisoner.
Confined in a cramped, ill-ventilated and ill-lighted compartment inclose proximity to the wireless-generator-room, Seton strained hisears in the hope of finding out what had happened to his whaler'screw. The purr of the electric motors and the noise of men's voicesechoing and re-echoing in the interior of the huge metal cylinderdeadened all sounds from without.
The U-boat was submerging. Apparently she had not used her guns uponthe boat, for the recoil of the weapons would have been noticeable.There was, however, the horrible possibility that, before diving, thesubmarine had deliberately rammed the boat. Or, perhaps the Huns hadshot down every man in the whaler by rifle and pistol. That was oneof Fritz's little stunts--cold-blooded butchery.
After a while Alec thought it was time to look after himself, sincehis captors evidently had no intention of attending to his personalcomfort. The warmth of the cell caused the moisture to steam from hissaturated clothes. Divesting himself of his garments he wrung themout, and began to exercise his limbs to ward off the numbness thatassailed them.
Presently the door of his cell was thrown open and a seaman appearedcarrying a bowl of hot soup.
"Can I have my clothes dried?" asked Alec.
"It's not my work to dry the clothes of a schweinhund," replied thefellow in English. Then he pointed to the Sub's wristlet watch.
"For that I will dry your things," he added.
"Right," replied Alec. "It isn't going, though. The water's spoiltit."
"That is to be expected," rejoined the German, picking up thesaturated garments. Then waiting until Alec had handed over hiswatch, he went out, to return presently with a canvas suit,rust-marked and greasy.
"In case Herr Kapitan sends for you," explained the man, and withoutanother word he again backed out of the compartment and locked thedoor.
While waiting for the soup to cool, the Sub, with feelings ofrepugnance, put on the loaned suit. It felt damp and clammy and smeltvilely. As for the soup it was little better than dish-water, greasyand unpalatable, while with deliberate intent an excessive quantityof salt had been put into the liquid. Nevertheless Alec took aconsiderable quantity, for he was desperately famished, and the hotconcoction warmed his chilled body, for even in the warm atmospherecold chills were persistently passing over him.
For several hours--how long Alec had no accurate idea--the U-boat ransubmerged. As far as he could estimate it was about noon when shecame to the surface, only to dive again very quickly, to theaccompaniment of a couple of bombs from a British sea-plane. Althoughwide of the mark the explosion of the missiles gave the submarine anasty shaking up, so much so, that the startled Huns allowed theircraft to rest on the bed of the North Sea until nightfall beforeresuming their course.
It was during this period of enforced detention that Alec wassummoned to be examined by Kapitan-leutnant von Kloster.
Clad solely in his borrowed canvas suit, unshaven and unkempt, Alecfelt his position keenly. He realized that it was a hard matter topreserve his dignity, when his appearance was like that of a greaserof a third-rate tramp.
Attended by two stolid German seamen the prisoner was taken to thekapitan's cabin. Seated on a settee by a narrow folding table wereCount Otto von Brockdorff-Giespert and Kapitan-leutnant von Kloster.The former was rigged out in a uniform that evidently was vonKloster's, judging by the fact that the Count was lightly-built andhis borrowed garments fitted him like a sack. His injured arm was ina sling, while, as the result of his immersion and subsequentprolonged stay in the whaler, he had contracted a very bad cold.
Von Kloster, on the other hand, was stout, florid-featured, andwell-groomed. He had the typical Prussian "square head", the contourof the back of his head and neck forming practically a straight line.His moustache he wore with the points upturned after the fashion setby his Imperial master.
On a camp-stool at the other end of the table sat the unter-leutnant,Kaspar Diehardt, a very young and very bumptious Prussian. Hisbulging forehead contrasted vividly with his insignificant, recedingchin, while his watery blue eyes belied the suggestion that he couldever become an efficient leader of men.
With paper and ink in front of him he sat gnawing the end of hisquill pen, as if his thoughts were constantly of the ever-presentdanger that threatened those who go down into the sea in Germansubmarines.
In his broken English von Kloster demanded Alec's name, rank, thevessel to which he belonged and her approximate position whentorpedoed.
"You may yourself think fortunate that no lies you haf told,"remarked his interrogator. "All this information I haf. Now, tell me:for what reason was der _Bolero_ an' oder schips off der NordHinder?"
"That I cannot tell you," replied the Sub.
"Do you know?"
"I refuse to answer this question."
The Kapitan-leutnant addressed several words to his subordinate, thelatter writing diligently for some moments.
It was an acute period of suspense for Seton. The silence was onlybroken by the scratching of the temporary secretary's pen, while theCount and von Kloster kept their eyes fixed on the prisoner. Alec wasbeginning to feel the effects of the salt soup. A burning thirstgripped his throat.
"Now, you have time had," continued his inquisitor. "Will youanswer?"
Seton shook his head. Even if he wanted to speak his parched tongueseemed unequal to the task. But that was not the reason. At allcosts, he determined to refuse to give any information likely to beof service to the enemy.
"Answer!" shouted Count Otto von Brockdorff-Giespert, bringing hisfist down upon the table and wincing at the effort.
"Water!" gasped Alec.
The Kapitan-leutnant gave an order to one of the men. The fellowsaluted and went out, presently to return with a carafe full ofwater, and a glass. Very deliberately von Kloster filled the glassalmost to the brim and offered it to the prisoner. Then, as Setonstepped eagerly forward to take the liquid, the Kapitan-leutnantwithdrew the glass.
"After you spoken haf, not before," he reminded with tantalizingcunning.
"I see you to blazes first!" Alec said hoarsely, with an effort.
"Ach, goot!" rejoined von Kloster sneeringly. "We shall see. I leaveder matter in der hands of mine chief."
"Quite so," assented Count Otto von Brockdorff-Giespert. "I may tellyou, prisoner, that the information y
ou refuse to give is already atour disposal. How remains our affair? I can tell you this withabsolute certainty: either you will remain a prisoner of war untilthe end of hostilities, or you will not leave this U-boat alive.Rescue is entirely out of the question. Hence it does not matterwhether I tell you a British naval secret. Those tramp steamers youwere escorting were decoys. It was the intention of the BritishAdmiral to sacrifice those ships in the hope that our torpedo-boatflotilla at Zeebrugge would be lured out to bite a tempting bait.While our boats were engaged thus, your destroyers were to attempt araid upon our new naval base, which, like Antwerp in the time ofNapoleon, is a pistol aimed at the heart of England. Unfortunatelyfor you, the plan miscarried. Instead of our torpedo flotillaappearing, some of our _unterseebooten_ were lying at the rendezvous,and, as a result, you are here."
He paused to watch the effect of his words. Not a muscle of the Sub'sface moved. Outwardly his face was an imperturbable mask, although hewas suffering the torments of acute thirst.
"And, since you are, like many others of our enemies, very curious toknow what is developing at Zeebrugge," continued the Count, "it willafford me great pleasure there to offer you hospitality--of a kind. Imean to provide you with quarters and rations in a comfortable poston the Mole of Zeebrugge. If your pestering compatriots come flyingover and drop bombs, and you happen to fall a victim, theresponsibility is theirs, not mine. If, again, you are anxious toexchange your quarters for others beyond the Rhine, you have but toanswer a few questions and the transfer will take effect."
Then, finding that Seton was apparently quite indifferent to thisproposal, von Brockdorff-Giespert lost all control of his temper.
For fully two minutes he raved and threatened both in English andGerman. Had it not been for his injuries he would doubtless havestruck his prisoner in the face. At length, after giving variousinstructions to von Kloster and Unter-leutnant Diehardt, he orderedthe prisoner to be removed.
"The rascals look like being right," thought Alec on finding himselfagain in the cell. "Either this U-boat returns to Zeebrugge, or shedoes not. If she doesn't, it means that she'll be strafed properly.The Huns seem keenly alive to the possibility."
The Sub had not been very many minutes alone, when the seamanreturned with his clothes. Giving a sort of superior smile, thefellow placed the bundle on the floor, and, without a word, backedout and relocked the door.
A brief examination showed that the Hun had broken the compact. Hehad Alec's wristlet watch, but no attempt had been made to dry thethings. The uniform and underclothes were almost as wet as when Alechad arrived on board the U-boat.
Two hours later the submarine blew her ballast tanks and rose to thesurface. The electric-motors were cut off, and the surfacepetrol-engines started and coupled up. All immediate danger was past,and the U-boat once more shaped a course for Zeebrugge.
Presently Seton was given another bowl of so-called soup and a pieceof black bread. One taste of the former was sufficient. It wasexcessively salt. The bread, too, had a saline taste, and was as dryas sawdust, but Alec derived some relief to his burning throat byslowly chewing the unpalatable substance.
"And I've to thank the British Navy for this," thought Alec,critically regarding the black war bread. "Evidently efficacious, ifFritz and all his kind are compelled to carry on with this. Hallo!What's the game now?"
For the U-boat had suddenly commenced to submerge once more, thesteep diving angle indicating that the action was not entirelyvoluntary on the part of her nerve-racked pirate crew.
The Thick of the Fray at Zeebrugge, April 1918 Page 6
