The Submarine Hunters

For the next few minutes, all was bustle and orderly confusion on board the Capella. Taking three steps at a time, Captain Syllenger gained the bridge, closely followed by Eccles, to whom the sudden interruption of a hearty breakfast came as a welcome call.

At a terrific pace the sleuth-hound of the sea tore towards the Hoorn, for such she was. Rounding under her squat counter, and reversing engines, the Capella brought up within fifty yards of the submarine before the astonished Germans could realize their precarious plight.

"Surrender, or I sink you!" roared Captain Syllenger.

The grim muzzles of the Capella's 4.7's, trained at a point-blank range, were a conclusive argument. Without waiting for orders, the majority of the unterseeboot's crew held up their arms. For a brief instant did her Kapitan hesitate.

"Me surrender," he replied.

"Very good; I accept your surrender," replied the Capella's skipper. "But understand, any attempt to open the sea-cocks will mean that no quarter will be given. Order all hands below, and leave the hatchways open. You will oblige me by proceeding on board His Majesty's ship Capella."

By this time the Hoorn was forging ahead, since she was in danger of drifting down upon the captured submarine. In the excitement of the capture, no one on board noticed two grotesquely garbed men on the Hoorn whose antics resembled those of a pair of demented creatures; nor was the presence of a couple of dejected German leutnants and five seamen, stranded on board the Dutchman, observed, as the Huns frantically besought the obdurate skipper of the Hoorn to steam as hard as he could towards the Dutch coast.

It was Vernon Haye's duty to take the cutter and board the prize. It was a hazardous piece of work, for the sea was now fairly high, and breaking under the effect of tide against wind; but, with the exception of a broken top-strake, the boat managed to lie sufficiently close alongside the submarine to enable the midshipman and five seamen to board.

Already the German crew were below. Hatches were lowered and secured, with the exception of the one in the after side of the conning-tower. This could be left open without fear of the submarine being swamped, while, to prevent the captured crew closing it and making an attempt to dive, the steel cover was removed from its hinges and secured on deck. The Black Cross flag was hauled down and rehoisted under the White Ensign, and preparations were made to take the prize in tow.

It was some time before a grass rope, to which a stout wire hawser was bent, could be veered from the Capella's quarter and taken on board the submarine, but eventually the hawser was made fast.

"Now, sir," said Vernon, addressing the German Kapitan. "Will you please step into that boat? Where are the other officers?"

"In that ship," replied the Hun sullenly, as he pointed towards the Hoorn. "They will not welcome you, but there are others who will."

Not knowing what the German meant, Vernon indicated that he should get on board the cutter.

"There are two German officers on board that vessel, air," reported the midshipman, as the boat came alongside the Capella. "Am I to bring them off?"

Captain Syllenger hesitated before replying. It was a knotty problem. To remove by force the subjects of a hostile nation from a neutral ship was contrary to international law. However much the Germans violated the "right of search", it was not Great Britain's policy to engage upon reprisals. Holland, although a third-rate Power, had to be treated with due courtesy.

"It's all the same in the long run," replied Captain Syllenger. "Board that vessel, Mr. Haye, and see what those fellows are doing there. If the Dutch skipper objects to their presence on his hooker, then bundle them into the boat. If, on the other hand, he protests against their removal, let them remain. They will be collared as soon as the ship enters our three-mile limit."

The Hoorn had once more come to a dead stop, at two cables' length from the British patrol-vessel.

As the Capella's cutter came alongside, Vernon agilely scrambled up the "monkey ladder" and gained the deck.

"Hulloa, old man!" exclaimed a well-known voice.

Vernon looked at the speaker. He knew the voice, but for a moment he failed to recognize in the oddly garbed youth his chum Ross Trefusis. Then he grinned broadly.

"My word!" he exclaimed. "You do cut a pretty figure."

Had they been of any nationality but British, the lads would have fallen on each other's necks and perhaps kissed each other. Instead, they stood a yard apart and laughed—but their mutual joy was none the less genuine.

"So you've come to fetch the German Leutnant and his boat's crew," said Ross, after Haye had been introduced to the Flight-Sub. "He's somewhere below. You'll recognize him right enough."

"Eh?" asked Vernon incredulously.