Leaning over the bulwarks, he saw the shadowy outline of a large submarine alongside, her deck awash, and with a man standing on the hatch-cover, clinging to an inadequate handrail. The man flung out a rope with a hook at the end, caught one of the rungs of the rope ladder, and drew it towards him. Clutching it, he allowed himself to swing off the hatch, and next moment was clambering over the bulwarks. Then, as he reached the deck, a couple of seamen sprang out of the shadows and bore him down before he could utter a cry. "Well?" remarked the Lieutenant interrogatively, as the prisoner, with a sailor on each side of him, stood in the Captain's cabin. The man from the submarine growled something beneath his breath. Evidently he had not yet recovered from his astonishment. "Well?" repeated Lawless almost genially. "This boat, is it not the _Gelderland_?" asked the prisoner in passable English. "It is." "Then why----" "Take him aft to the wheelhouse and lock him in," interrupted the Lieutenant. The prisoner made an abrupt movement, which was checked at sight of a revolver which one of the seamen was holding. Then he was marched off. It was not till then that Lawless realised the difficulties of the situation. He had no gun mounted wherewith to sink the enemy submarine; obviously he could not board her so that---- "I'll ram her!" he ejaculated aloud. He returned to the bridge and saw that the huge whale-like form of the _U_ boat was still alongside. Grabbing the telegraph, he rang down "Full speed ahead!" and then, thrusting the quartermaster aside, took the wheel and swung the vessel round so that she was bows-on to the submarine. At the same moment the latter's hatch opened and a man stepped out, evidently to try and find out what kept the other so long. But before he could realise what was happening, the _Gelderland_ drove right into the low-lying hull; there was a terrific shock, and, as the steamer reeled under the force of the impact, a stifled cry from out of the blackness--and then silence. Considerably elated, Lawless picked up the Eddystone light about an hour later. Then, having taken his bearings, he left Plymouth far away to starboard and headed down Channel, while, in obedience to his instructions, the quick-firer was taken out of the hold and mounted on deck and the damaged funnel repaired. He had been the recipient of a brilliant inspiration. * * * * * "The young fool's been and got himself torpedoed, that's what he's done," said Skipper Chard in a tone of conviction. He was seated with other patrol-boat skippers in the bar-parlour of a certain hostelry, and the conversation had turned on the mysterious disappearance of the _Gelderland_ with her prize crew. A full week had elapsed since her capture by the _O47_, yet she had not been reported at Plymouth or any of the other western seaports. "Skipper Trevail do say he saw she west of Lizard," remarked an old Cornishman.