"Steady!" exclaimed Denbigh. "You're looking for trouble with that thing, Pat. It's as dangerous as a shillelagh at Donnybrook Fair. And what's the object in breaking out?" he continued, addressing Stirling, who was fondling the screw-driver in anticipation. "If you're detected there'll be a rumpus. I don't suppose you'll do any good, and if you possess your soul in patience a little longer you'll be let out." "Hanged if I can," retorted Stirling. "I must have a look round. I didn't ask you fellows to come. In fact, there's less risk for one than three." "Have your own way, then," said Denbigh, who knew that when the Scot once made up his mind there would be no turning aside. The lock was secured to the inside of the door. It was sufficient to keep out intruders, but quite inadequate to resist the application of the screwdriver. Working swiftly yet silently, Stirling removed the brass staple. Only the pressure of his boot against the door kept it shut. Cautiously he drew the door ajar. There was a light switched on in the passage. At the far end of the alley-way was the sentry on the aft-deck. The rest of the cabins were deserted, since the excitement of the chase kept all officers on deck. Having, then, no fear of detection the sentry was sitting on the lid of a chest, his face buried in a book. "All clear," whispered Stirling. "S'long, you fellows. Expect me when you see me." He gave another glance in the direction of the sentry. The man had not stirred. Softly Stirling crept out and tiptoed along the passage in the direction of the ladder leading to the upper-deck. The noise of the engines, audible throughout the length and breadth of the ship, and the tramp of feet on deck, deadened the slight sound of his movements. At the end of the alley-way a curtain had been stretched in order to screen the light from the companion-way. Beyond, although there were men standing about, the place was in darkness. Stirling took the risk. He knew that in the gloom there would be great difficulty to distinguish the uniforms of the German officers from his own. Lifting aside the curtain, he stepped forward with the self-confidence of a man accustomed to command. The knot of seamen separated, the men clicking their heels and standing rigidly at the salute. In the darkness they recognized the officer but not the individual. Not for one moment did they suspect that he was one of the strafed Englishmen, whom they had every reason to suppose to be under lock and key.