rol will pick you up some time
soon." Without further sound save for the almost silent fixing of the
conning tower lid, the submarine moved off.

"I thought it best to make my answers sharp and satisfactory, sir," said
Ballyn, when he repeated the conversation to me word for word. "I was
thinking of the women and children in the boat. I feared every minute
that somebody in our boat might make a hostile move, fire a revolver, or
throw something at the submarine. I feared the consequence of such an
act."

There was no assurance of an early pickup so we made preparations for a
siege with the elements. The weather was a great factor. That black rim
of clouds looked ominous. There was a good promise of rain. February has
a reputation for nasty weather in the north Atlantic. The wind was cold
and seemed to be rising. Our boat bobbed about like a cork on the
swells, which fortunately were not choppy.

How much rougher seas could the boat weather? This question and
conditions were debated pro and con.

Had our rockets been seen? Did the first torpedo put the wireless out of
commission? If it had been able to operate, had anybody heard our S. O.
S.? Was there enough food and drinking water in the boat to last?

This brought us to an inventory of our small craft. After considerable
difficulty, we found the lamp, a can of powder flares, the tin of ship's
biscuit, matches and spare oil.

The lamp was lighted. Other lights were now visible. As we drifted in
the darkness, we could see them every time we mounted the crest of the
swells. The boats carrying these lights remained quite close together at
first.

One boat came within sound and I recognised the Harry Lauder-like voice
of the second assistant purser whom I had last heard on Wednesday at the
ship's concert. Now he was singing--"I Want to Marry 'arry," and "I Love
to be a Sailor."

There were an American woman and her husband in that boat. She told me
later that an attempt had been made to sing "Tipperary," and "Rule
Britannia," but the thought of that slinking dark hull of destruction
that might have been a part of the immediate darkness resulted in the
abandonment of the effort.

"Who's the officer in that boat?" came a cheery hail from the nearby
light.

"What the hell is it to you?" our half frozen negro yelled out for no
reason apparent to me other than possibly the relief of his feelings.

"Will somebody brain that skunk with a pin?" was the inquiry of our