With a supreme effort the adventurer sank his fingers deep into the arms of the two men.
"Wait!" he gasped faintly in German. "On the Emperor's service"
"What's that?" The officer turned back sharply.
"Imperial Secret Service," Lanyard faltered—"Personal Division—Wilhelmstrasse Number 27"
A brilliant glare settled suddenly upon the deck of the submarine, and was welcomed by a panicky gust of oaths. One officer had already popped through the conning-tower hatch, followed by several of the crew. There remained only those supporting Lanyard, and the second officer.
"Take him below!" the latter ordered. "He may be telling the truth. If not. …"
In the distance a gun boomed. A shell shrieked over the submarine and dropped into the sea not a hundred yards to starboard. The men rushed Lanyard toward the conning tower. He tried feebly to help them. In that effort consciousness was altogether blotted out. …
