At last the submarine, quite satisfied, ceased firing. Then she closed, and Campbell fired two torpedoes, but missed with both. After this he wirelessed for help. But when British and American destroyers came tearing up they found him, cool as ever, arranging for a third "panic-party" to jump overboard and leave him alone with three men to try one more shot with the only gun left free by the fire. He failed this time. But two of his men earnt the V.C. as well as any men have ever earnt it; and his gallant Q herself went down with colours flying. The news soon passed round the underworld of "sub-dom"; and the Germans swore they would never be caught again. So when another sub chased and shelled an old tub of a sailing ship her commander took good care to make sure he had not caught another Q. First and second panic parties, or what he thought were panic parties, did not satisfy him. But at last, when he had seen the ship's papers and had counted the crew, he laughed at his own mistake and came close alongside, ordering the boats away in spite of the skipper's entreaties to be allowed to go back and get his wife, who was crying her eyes out on deck with her baby in her arms. When the boats rowed off the poor woman went mad, rushing about wildly, with piercing shrieks, and finally, just as the German was coming on board, throwing her baby straight into his conning tower. What the Germans thought of this will never be known; for the baby was made of rubber filled with high explosive, and it blew the sub to smithereens. CHAPTER XXVII SURRENDER! (1918) As Jutland broke the spirit of the Germans who fought on the surface so minefields, netting, convoys, patrolling, and Q boats broke the spirit of those who fought in submarines. Drake's Sea-Dogs would take their chance of coming home alive when the insurance on their ships used to be made by men whom Shakespeare calls the "putters-out of five for one." As we say now, the chances were five to one against the Sea-Dog ship that went to foreign parts in time of war. But, when the odds reached four to one against the German subs, the German crews began to mutiny, refusing to go aboard of what they saw were fast becoming just new steel coffins of the sea. A Belgian maid, compelled to slave for officers of German submarines at Zeebrugge, kept count of those who returned alive. The same number, twenty, always boarded in the house. But, before the British came and drove the Germans out, no less than sixteen of her twenty masters had stepped into dead men's shoes. Finally, in the early morning of November the 3rd, when, in wild despair, the Kaiser ordered the whole Fleet out for one last fight, the men of aircraft, surface craft, and submarines alike refused point blank to go; and the German Revolution then and there began. It was the German Navy that rose first, brought to its senses by the might of British sea-power. The Army followed. Then the people.