the captain's cabin and me to the boiler-room. They told the
girl to take off her wet clothes and throw them outside the door
that they might be dried, and then to slip into the captain's
bunk and get warm. They didn't have to tell me to strip after I
once got into the warmth of the boiler-room. In a jiffy, my
clothes hung about where they might dry most quickly, and I
myself was absorbing, through every pore, the welcome heat of the
stifling compartment. They brought us hot soup and coffee, and
then those who were not on duty sat around and helped me damn the
Kaiser and his brood.
As soon as our clothes were dry, they bade us don them, as the
chances were always more than fair in those waters that we should
run into trouble with the enemy, as I was only too well aware.
What with the warmth and the feeling of safety for the girl, and
the knowledge that a little rest and food would quickly overcome
the effects of her experiences of the past dismal hours, I was
feeling more content than I had experienced since those three
whistle-blasts had shattered the peace of my world the
previous afternoon.
But peace upon the Channel has been but a transitory thing since
August, 1914. It proved itself such that morning, for I had
scarce gotten into my dry clothes and taken the girl's apparel
to the captain's cabin when an order was shouted down into the
engine-room for full speed ahead, and an instant later I heard
the dull boom of a gun. In a moment I was up on deck to see an
enemy submarine about two hundred yards off our port bow. She had
signaled us to stop, and our skipper had ignored the order; but
now she had her gun trained on us, and the second shot grazed
the cabin, warning the belligerent tug-captain that it was time
to obey. Once again an order went down to the engine-room, and
the tug reduced speed. The U-boat ceased firing and ordered the
tug to come about and approach. Our momentum had carried us a
little beyond the enemy craft, but we were turning now on the
arc of a circle that would bring us alongside her. As I stood
watching the maneuver and wondering what was to become of us, I
felt something touch my elbow and turned to see the girl standing
at my side. She looked up into my face with a rueful expression.
"They seem bent on our destruction," she said, "and it looks like
the same boat that sunk us yesterday."
"It is," I replied. "I know her well. I helped design her and
took her out on her first run."
The girl drew back from me with a little exclamation of surprise
and disappointment. "I thought you were an American," she said.
"I had no idea you were a--a--"
"Nor am I," I replied. "Americans have been building submarines
