he explosion shot into the air. The third shot tore a piece off the
funnel, the fourth hit the bridge, and before the fifth had left the
mouth of the gun the signal flew up, "I have stopped."

Ah! old friend, you had come to it, anyhow!

An old sea-rule says: "Carefulness is the best seamanship." Regarding
all the tricks and subterfuges which the hostile merchant-marine has
used against us, I did not consider it advisable to advance nearer the
steamer at once. I therefore also stopped our machines and signaled:
"Leave the ship immediately!"

The signal was unnecessary. The English captain had himself given the
command to the crew to take to the boats after he, frothing with anger,
had comprehended the impossibility to flee. Snorting with wrath, he
shortly afterwards came alongside our boat, and handed me at my request
the ship's papers and asked me to tow the three boats to the
neighborhood of the coast. I promised this and said some simple words
to him in regard to his bad luck and concerning the grim necessity of
the war--which he dismissed with an angry shrug of his shoulders. I
certainly could understand the man's bad spirit.

I then went forward and torpedoed the steamer, which sank, stern
foremost, with a gurgling sound into the deep.

At the same time four thousand tons of rice were lost to the English
market.

We had met with success and this put us into the highest spirits. Come
whatever wants to come, our voyage had not been entirely useless.

When I stepped down into the boat for a moment and passed through the
narrow crew-room to my own little cabin, I saw to right and left joyful
faces, and all eyes were smiling towards me as if they wished to say:
"Congratulations!" The steamer's sinking was the subject of discussion.
Those who had witnessed the incident had to describe all the
circumstances in smallest detail; where the torpedo had struck, how high
the water-pillar had risen, and what afterwards happened to the steamer,
how the people on the boat looked, and the like. Everything had to be
explained.

When I went back some one said: "To-morrow it will be in the papers."
These words whirled around in my head for some time. Yes, to-morrow
there would be in all the German newspapers under the column: "Ships
sunk" or "Sacrifices to the U-boat war," that once more we had
retaliated on our most hated enemy, that his inhuman attempt to starve
our people had been parried by a horrid and strong blow. And o