"In case Herr Kapitan sends for you," explained the man, and without another word he again backed out of the compartment and locked the door. While waiting for the soup to cool, the Sub, with feelings of repugnance, put on the loaned suit. It felt damp and clammy and smelt vilely. As for the soup it was little better than dish-water, greasy and unpalatable, while with deliberate intent an excessive quantity of salt had been put into the liquid. Nevertheless Alec took a considerable quantity, for he was desperately famished, and the hot concoction warmed his chilled body, for even in the warm atmosphere cold chills were persistently passing over him. For several hours--how long Alec had no accurate idea--the U-boat ran submerged. As far as he could estimate it was about noon when she came to the surface, only to dive again very quickly, to the accompaniment of a couple of bombs from a British sea-plane. Although wide of the mark the explosion of the missiles gave the submarine a nasty shaking up, so much so, that the startled Huns allowed their craft to rest on the bed of the North Sea until nightfall before resuming their course. It was during this period of enforced detention that Alec was summoned to be examined by Kapitan-leutnant von Kloster. Clad solely in his borrowed canvas suit, unshaven and unkempt, Alec felt his position keenly. He realized that it was a hard matter to preserve his dignity, when his appearance was like that of a greaser of a third-rate tramp. Attended by two stolid German seamen the prisoner was taken to the kapitan's cabin. Seated on a settee by a narrow folding table were Count Otto von Brockdorff-Giespert and Kapitan-leutnant von Kloster. The former was rigged out in a uniform that evidently was von Kloster's, judging by the fact that the Count was lightly-built and his borrowed garments fitted him like a sack. His injured arm was in a sling, while, as the result of his immersion and subsequent prolonged stay in the whaler, he had contracted a very bad cold. Von Kloster, on the other hand, was stout, florid-featured, and well-groomed. He had the typical Prussian "square head", the contour of the back of his head and neck forming practically a straight line. His moustache he wore with the points upturned after the fashion set by his Imperial master. On a camp-stool at the other end of the table sat the unter-leutnant, Kaspar Diehardt, a very young and very bumptious Prussian. His bulging forehead contrasted vividly with his insignificant, receding chin, while his watery blue eyes belied the suggestion that he could ever become an efficient leader of men. With paper and ink in front of him he sat gnawing the end of his quill pen, as if his thoughts were constantly of the ever-present danger that threatened those who go down into the sea in German submarines. In his broken English von Kloster demanded Alec's name, rank, the vessel to which he belonged and her approximate position when torpedoed.