holding on, or else somewhat foolishly attempting to clamber upon her upturned bilges. Still farther away was the whaler, waterlogged and with only her bow and stern-posts showing above the surface. Quite half a mile off, and still carrying way in spite of having reversed her engines, was the cause of the disaster to the boats.

"Stick it, men," exclaimed Webb encouragingly. "They'll soon pick us up."

At which information, unnecessary since the Portchester Castle's intention was obvious, the men gave a cheer. Most of them had been "in the ditch" before, and in far more hazardous conditions. This immersion in a warm sea and on a calm day was of the nature of an aquatic picnic, while with the prospect of a speedy rescue none of the men thought it worth while to sacrifice his boots.

The Sub found himself counting the heads of the survivors. Thank God! the number tallied with that of the complete boat's crew. In fact, he was not sure but that there seemed to be more.

"Any casualties?" he enquired of the coxswain, who was lazily swimming close to his young officer.

"Bill Evans, sir; stopped a bullet. Right shoulder, sir. They've got him in tow alongside the cutter. Nothing more."

The coxswain did not think it necessary to inform Webb that he himself had a little memento of the brief scrap with the U-boat's crew, in the shape of a wound just above the left knee. In the water it was hardly noticeable.

The whaler's people, too, seemed to be in the best of spirits. They had closed in around the waterlogged craft, each man gripping the partly submerged gunwale and lustily singing one of the latest ditties, just to emphasize the fact that they were very far from being down-hearted. With them were five or six survivors of the U-boat. Enmity had disappeared, the whaler's men treating their companions in misfortune with the utmost good humour.

Presently Webb felt a hand clutch at his shoulder.

"Here, come off it!" exclaimed the coxswain.

"If you do want a leg-up, don't put your dirty paws on our officer."

The Sub turned his head. Behind him was a German seaman, obviously distressed and in difficulties. He had been holding on to an oar, but the buoyancy of the wood was insufficient to keep his head above the surface.

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