"I don't wish yer no harm, blow yer!" said he. "I don't want yer to get sunk, nor even captured by a British cruiser. Oh, no. I only wants yer blighted ole submarine to fall foul of a steamer's bow some dark night and get capsized. Then I hopes she'll float around for a month bottom up, with the whole crowd of yer standin' on yer bloomin' heads and yellin' 'Gott strafe England' until you choke." Undoubtedly there were several Germans on board the submarine who understood English well enough to gather the gist of the irate stoker's remarks. They looked very ugly as they fingered their rifles and glanced towards their officer for instructions; most probably the Londoner ran a grave risk of paying for his temerity with his life. It happened, however, that at this moment smoke was descried in the distance. The German commander levelled his binocular glasses and took a long look at it. Apparently this column of grey smoke caused him some uneasiness. Full well he knew the rapidity with which, during the hazy weather, a destroyer could appear on the scene and open fire. He was evidently a cautious Teuton, for he gave a short, guttural order, he and his men descended into the submarine, and she dived below the surface, and so out of this story. How and when the piratical career of this particular U-boat came to a sudden end cannot now be chronicled. III--THEY WATCHED THE VESSEL SINK Meanwhile the _Glenholme's_ crew sat in their boats and watched their vessel sink. Her bows were by this time below the surface; she was going fast. Her stern rose high in air, and for about a minute the stricken and abandoned craft hung poised in this position--her fore part submerged, her rudder and propeller a hundred feet in air. Then, with a slow, slanting dive, she vanished from sight. Down she sank, like many a good ship before her, to rust and rot on the sandy-tide-swept floor of the Mediterranean. The smoke which had been sighted previously was no longer visible. Captain Groome and his crew in their three open boats had now to face the chances of a wide and lonely sea. Each boat was well equipped, and stocked with ten days' provisions; nevertheless, the weather indications were not encouraging. Wind and sea were gradually increasing, while a heavy bank of clouds in the north-west foretold a coming storm. The captain shouted a few words of advice and instruction to the officers in charge of the two other boats. "It's no use trying for Malta against this northerly gale that's coming. We'll just have to 'up stick' and run for Tripoli. You're quite right, Mr. Bolt; the boats may get separated. If the sea becomes very heavy we must lie to our sea-anchors until it moderates, or until we get picked up."