The Submarine Hunters

The two attendants then proceeded to place the diver's helmet on his head. The lads noticed that it had neither air-tube nor telephone wire. Nor was there a life-line attached to his waist. Fresh air was obtained from a metal case strapped to his back. The man was able to work independently, and without having to rely upon his air supply from the submarine.

The oval door in the diving-chamber was thrown open. The diver entered, and the water-tight panel was quickly replaced. One of the seamen thrust over a short lever, and immediately water rushed into the small compartment. As soon as the space was filled the diver was able to open a similar door in the outer plating of the submarine, and thus gain the bed of the sea.

Presently Leutnant Rix turned, and saw for the first time that Ross and Vernon were discreetly standing in the background.

"Go away. It is forbidden!" he shouted angrily.

They obeyed promptly, retreating to the space allotted to the crew, since it was neither desirable nor possible to return to their bunks.

For some minutes the luckless Hans Koppe was subjected to a severe dressing-down by his hot-headed officer, and when at length the seaman rejoined the lads he was in no humour to resume conversation.

Slowly the minutes sped. The submarine was still rolling sluggishly, in spite of the fact that more water had been admitted into the ballast tanks.

The men were talking seriously amongst themselves. From scraps of conversation that drifted to the lads' ears, it was evident that they had grave doubts concerning the ability of the diver to perform his task, and even of his chances of regaining the submarine, owing to the violent disturbances of the water.

Presently the motion of the anchored submarine became more acute. A weird grating sound—the noise made by the hull rasping over the bed of the sea—was distinctly audible.

One of the seamen produced a pocket compass. His startled exclamation brought other members of the crew around him. The magnetic needle was apparently describing a semicircle. U75 was swinging round her anchor.

Just then a bell tinkled, and a disc oscillated on the indicator board on the bulkhead. Instantly the two men who had been told off as attendants upon the diver hurried aft, while their companions crowded expectantly around the door.

The two men came back, staggering under the weight of the diver. They had already removed his head-dress and leaden weights. Water dropped from his rubber suit. His face was livid, his eyes wide open and rolling. One of his bare hands was streaked with blood that flowed sullenly from a cut in his numbed flesh.

Kapitan Schwalbe and Leutnant Rix followed him into the crew-space. It was not through feelings of compassion that they had come for'ard. It was acute anxiety to hear the diver's report.

The luckless man was laid upon the mess-table. His attendants divested him of his diving-suit, and rubbed his body with rough towels. A petty officer poured half a glass of brandy down his throat.

"What is amiss?" Kapitan Schwalbe kept on repeating.

With a great effort the diver sat up.

"An anchor, sir," he gasped feebly. "An anchor—an English naval pattern one—has been dropped right over ours. A very big one."

Then his eyes closed, and he fell back unconscious.

"Gott in Himmel!" ejaculated Rix. "We are trapped!"

CHAPTER VIII

Balked by a Sea-plane

"How so?" demanded Kapitan Schwalbe. "If we keep quiet, the cruiser—for cruiser she must be, judging by the fellow's description—will weigh and proceed."

"When she does weigh we are undone," said Rix despondently. "We are swinging round our anchor. For all we know, our cable has taken a turn round hers. As soon as they heave up their anchor, our anchor and cable will be brought up with it, and then the game is up. Either the strain will overcome our dead weight and we will be hauled to the surface, or else they'll lower one of their brutal explosive charges."

"The situation is serious," admitted Schwalbe in a low tone, for his Leutnant's words had produced a demoralizing effect upon the men. "How much cable have we inboard?"

Rix repeated the question. A petty officer doubled forward to consult the cable indicator. U75's anchor, when under way, was housed in a trough on the under side of the submarine's forefoot. The cable was automatically ranged in a compartment between the inner and outer skins, the space being always filled with water. The inboard end of the cable was not shackled; but to prevent its being able to take charge and run out, an indicator was placed on the bulkhead nearest to the cable tier. The amount of chain let go was regulated by a compressor, which was actuated from within the hull by means of levers and cranks, watertight glands being provided to prevent any leakage into the interior of the submarine.

"Seventy-five fathoms," reported the petty officer. "When we commenced to swing we paid out the length we had taken on board when we hove short."