‘Oh, it wasn’t much,’ replied Raymond. ‘“Snatcher” told me about it. They were having tea at about thirty feet when they heard a rumbling stunt. He took her down to eighty feet and stopped there till he had recovered from the fit of nervous prostration into which he had been thrown. Then he went down to a hundred and twenty, took the opportunity of going round and seeing if the boat was right at that depth. When he was satisfied he came up and kept her at forty-five for the rest of the patrol.’ ‘What was it?’ queried Seagrave. ‘Seaplane bomb dropped from right above, and only just missed ’em. It was a smooth day, and the pilot must have been able to see the boat easily. The joke was that the stoker P.O., who was off watch at the time, was asleep, with his head against the skin of the hull, and when the bomb went off, the vibration of the boat’s side gave him a lump on the back of the chump as big as an ostrich egg.’ ‘Interesting and instructive experience,’ remarked Boyd. ‘Honest Herbert harried by the Hun! That’s the reason there wasn’t any gin in the boat yesterday. The shock to the nerves must have been too much for them. ‘Let the Hun pass, Though he’s an ass. I warrant he’ll prove an excuse for the glass.’ ‘Yes,’ said Seagrave, ‘I heard “Bunty” trying to cadge a bottle off the mess-man before we left. But it wasn’t any good. He pleaded that they might meet a “U” boat this time, and that after they’d finished her off they wouldn’t have anything to celebrate the event in. Then he tried strategy, and told the mess-man that he was positive all the German boats were well supplied, on the off-chance of strafing one of our “E” boats.’ ‘What did the mess-man say?’ ‘Said “U” stood for ’Un and “E” for England, and handed him his mess bill, plus extras,’ said Seagrave, hoisting himself into the upper bunk. ‘Now, just watch me,’ grinned Boyd, pushing back the table, ‘in my wonderful impersonation of shut-eye Joe, the modern sleeping beauty. Warranted to sleep until the next meal, or, failing that, till Fritz shows us his world-famous tip-and-run stunt. Bye-bye, good people. Call me when she swings.’ Raymond was taking the periscope watch himself, as the others were fully employed on watch-keeping and other duties when on the surface. The morning dragged slowly away without incident, and the land was getting distant now and was barely visible by about eleven o’clock. It was very still and peaceful once more, and the two off-watch slept the sleep of the just. Occasionally a man passed forward outside the curtains on his way to the lockers, or the sound of voices drifted in from the after compartment. Only the sunlight, visible on the water through the periscope, indicated that it was broad daylight. Once an electric bell broke the stillness with a persistent clanging which caused Boyd to leap from his bunk and rush off muttering imprecations on the gyro compass. The bell stopped, and presently he reappeared.