Strangely enough, she did not try to pursue or shell
them. The men at the oars rowed furiously to escape. The wind
rose, and the rain, which had been drizzling down, commenced to
fall in torrents. It made a shield as enveloping as a heavy fog.
The submarine was not to be seen, and they, of course, were
hidden from her. Hour after hour the rain fell; and all the men
rowed, taking turns at the heavy oars. The Colonel sat silent.
He could not forget the young gallant pair gone down with the
ship, two splendid lives snuffed out in an hour.
Night came to the drenched, hungry men a time of torture. In the
morning, the Colonel divided a part of the chocolate, which
restored a portion of strength to the rowers. So another day
dragged toward its close. The rain had stopped, and a hot sun
had dried their clothing. They were beginning to feel the pangs
of thirst, but the hoard of chocolate and malted milk tablets
mercifully held out. In the far, far distance they could see one
of the other boats. The others were gone. Where, they could not
tell.
Then at dawn happened the miracle. Out of the dusk a big ship
seemed to take form. She was miles away, but to their eyes,
growing accustomed only to the unrelenting stretch of sea and
sky, she seemed to loom over them.
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