and the crews have been treated exactly the same as other
prisoners of war."

"I have heard differently," said Hans, "but I hope it's a mistake. I
have a feeling that we won't see Wilhelmshaven again. And I have a
wife and six children at Flensburg. Our Kapitan, too, expects that we
might be denied quarter, because we have sunk your merchantmen.
Believe me, I regret having done so, but we have orders. Do you know
why Kapitan Schwalbe took you on board?"

"Because a certain German agent wanted us out of the way, I suppose,"
replied Ross.

"Perhaps," admitted Hans Koppe. "But in the event of our being
captured he thinks that his good treatment of you will be in his
favour. We are, I do not mind telling you, in a very tight corner.
Our fuel supply is almost run out. We cannot hope to return home by
way of the Straits of Dover. Not one of our submarines has tried that
passage of late without meeting with disaster--at least, so I heard der
Kapitan tell der Leutnant. Ach! It is deplorable, this war."

The rapid ringing of a gong was the signal for the watch below to turn
out. A peculiar hissing noise proclaimed the fact that the ballast
tanks were being emptied. U75 no longer grated over the bottom; her
motors were running almost dead slow.

Although submerged, the submarine was "pumping" violently. Seasoned
men were prostrate with sea-sickness. The air, in spite of chemical
purifiers, was becoming almost intolerable. Everything movable was
being thrown about in utter disorder, while to add to the discomfort of
the crew the covering-plates of one of the lubricating-oil tanks had
been strained, and at every jerk jets of viscous fluid would squirt
through the fracture and trickle sullenly over the floor of the
crew-space.

Since the watertight doors were still closed, Ross and Vernon were
unable to get back to their bunks. Feeling thoroughly wretched, they
were glad to accept Hans Koppe's offer to lie down on a long locker.

At noon, U75 came to the surface. The storm, being short forecasted,
had quickly blown itself out, but the waves still ran high.

It was a prearranged plan on the part of the three U-boats operating in
the English and Bristol Channels to communicate with each other by
wireless at noon and at midnight. U75's wireless had a range of about
180 miles, and although it could be "jammed", the call could not be
tapped by vessels other than the one for which it was intended. To
make doub