Then he turned round and looked at the scene on deck. The crew were going about their job in perfect silence, and amongst the passengers a sort of stunned apathy prevailed. The thing had been so sudden, that most of them as yet hardly realised what had happened.
He saw one man--a funny little, pimply man with spectacles, of the type he would have expected to wring his hands and wail--take off his boots with the utmost composure, and place them neatly side by side on the deck.
Then a large, healthy individual in a fur coat came past him demanding to see the Captain, and protesting angrily when he was told to go to hell.
"It's preposterous, sir," he said to Vane; "absolutely preposterous. I insist on seeing the Captain. . .."
"Don't be more of a fool than you can help," answered Vane rudely. "It's not the Captain's 'At home' day. . . ."
And once again it struck him as it had so often struck him in France, what an impossible thing it is to guess beforehand how danger will affect different men. A woman beside him was crying quietly, and endeavouring to soothe a little boy who clung to her with wide-open, frightened eyes. . . .
"Do you think there's any danger, sir?" She turned to Vane and looked at him imploringly.
"I hope not," he answered reassuringly. "There should be enough boats to go round. . . . Ah! look--there is the swine."
Rolling a little, and just awash, the conning tower of the submarine showed up out of the sea about half a mile away, and suddenly Vane heard a voice beside him cursing it bitterly and childishly. He turned, to find one of the smoking-room patriots shaking his fist at it, while the weak tears of rage poured down his face. Afterwards, on thinking the experience over, Vane decided that that one spectacle had made it almost worth while. . . .
Two boats were pulling away from the ship, which had already begun to settle by the bows, and two more were in the process of being launched, when the Hun lived up to his rightful reputation. There are times when one is nauseated and sickened by the revolting cant of a repentant Germany; by the hypocritical humbug that, at heart, the German is a peace-loving, gentle being who has been led away by those above him. And as Vane watched grimly the path of the second, and so unnecessary torpedo, he felt an overmastering longing that some of the up-holders of the doctrine could be on board.